Yearning, en Français

This past week, with H rushing to meet a deadline, and my days as a lady of leisure numbered (I start my new job in less than two weeks), I decided to make myself scarce and took a quick trip to France to meet up with an old university roommate of mine.

On the short ferry ride over, innocently minding my own business and dreaming of all the soft cheese and red wine me and my barren womb were about to consume with gusto, I had a chance encounter with a member of the opposite sex that set my heart aflutter. (These types of encounters, I must confess, have become all the more frequent since I have become a married woman.)

With his unmistakable French swagger and a stylish scarf tossed with careless élan, my admirer had that certain je ne sais quoi; I couldn't help but have a wandering eye. You wouldn't blame me if you had seen him: he had long, dark lashes that framed his gorgeous, flirtatious eyes, caramel brown skin that looked oh-so-soft, and I could tell just by looking at him that he must have smelled incredible, intoxicating even. And, as has happened before in such encounters, he awakened in me a deep-seat, primal yearning.

We glanced at each other coyly for the better part of half an hour, playing a shy game of 'who-will-look-away-first', flirting casually, slowly edging closer to one another as our shyness and inhibitions waned.

And when his Maman came to lead him off the boat at disembarkation, after our intimate little game of peek-a-boo, tiny, caramel brown Alain, my adorable new friend, sweetly waved a chubby-handed au revoir and was gone. He melted my heart a little, and renewed my will to continue with all...this...

...le sigh... 

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Other than this brief, bittersweet delight, the rest of the best of those three days...

Canalside strolling

Macarons. Just...yum.

Cathedral by day

Cathedral by night; funky light show

More canals, more strolling

Questionable cocoa advertising

Crêpes and crême de marrons and salted caramel glacé, oh my!

Kir à la pêche

Just like in a Monet

I always light a candle for S, and for all lost babies