Keeping Up

My Handsome Beekeeper

If there is one person who is keeping up with it all, and I mean everything, right now, it’s my husband. It’s one man to 260 beehives, raising queens, seeking terrain and chasing the flower blooms, with honey deliveries on top of that, then taking care of his wife getting her prescriptions at the pharmacy, being there for every sage femme (mid-wife)/birthing group/doctor appointments/sonograms, dealing with insurance stuff, getting groceries, helping set-up the baby nursery and the heavy loaded garden work, being chauffer for his wife until she can get her license, and somehow he still manages to do the dishes and give her foot rubs with tired hands. How did I get so lucky?

I don’t know how he juggles it all, though he’s always been an amazing circus artist. I remember back in the day when he tried to impressed me by juggling the faucille tool, a sickle hand blade, which we use to harvest lavender and other wild plants. That was then. Husband, father, beekeeper, businessman, this is now. 

Apiary up the road from our house. 

Queen Cells

Some hives in our backyard.

And now, this spring, and soon the summer to come, will be an extremely eventful, exciting and busy time for us. I am mostly excited, though a little nervous, naturally; our baby girl is expected to arrive July 6^th, during peak season, around the time Jorris will have to move the bees onto the Lavender. And, with the pandemic, clinic regulations are that he is not to leave the building, otherwise he won’t be able to re-enter and be with us. I am hoping the bees will be well for a few days, and he won’t have to go. 

It’s lovely to follow and watch him work, the way he surveys each hive, in the flow of doing and observing, keeping track of each colony, its health and the honey flow. He’s always a few steps ahead in his mind, planning out the next spots to move them, driving around to each apiary, waking up in the middle of the night when the high winds blow bee hive roofs off! At the same time he is queen rearing, raising his own queens, which takes a very dedicated schedule commitment, and precise calendar to follow for success. 

Our Busy Bees

Sometimes when I tag along, I bring a chair, find a shady spot under a tree, read a little, then help with the smoker and observe frames for eggs or brood along with him. It gives us a chance to be together during the drives, to talk bees, for me to learn more. It also keeps me in touch with our work as a couple and reminds me of our commitment to this profession and to Mother Nature. After all, each bee is our responsibility to care for and their equal hard work this time of year we are utmost grateful for. Their liquid gold results in our bread and butter.  It’s humbling to watch them waggle and care for each other on the frames, marvelling at the fact of all the many flowers they must have had to visit to gather those cute little colorful pollen balls on their back legs. When tasting honey straight from the frames, I am reminded of the magic, which I discovered when I first arrived into this world of bee keeping nearly 5 years ago. 

Breakfast in Bed: pumpkin pancakes, fresh-squeezed o.j., coffee.

I was hoping to take my handsome man out to a date night for his birthday today, but no restaurants are open yet for such an occasion. So, I opted for breakfast in bed, and while it wasn’t a pumpkin pie (his favorite), it was pumpkin pancakes, with half a pumpkin left from last fall I was able to salvage. I put on some coffee, made some fresh squeezed orange juice, a little kiwi and pear fruit salad, and picked some fresh wild flowers. 

Just waking up as I entered our bedroom with the birthday tray, he sat up, sleepy-eyed, surprised and happy. We shared the pancakes and coffee, savoring a peaceful morning together. He opened my present which was a book by a bee researcher and professor he admires. Bodhi came home, meowing through the window. Baby kicked in my belly as I bit into the soft buttery pancakes, probably in delight of her first taste of pumpkin pancakes, while wishing her Papa a happy birthday, too. 

Cheers to mon amour, papa to my baby, keeper of my heart and of the bees, my always wild and forever brave mountain man, Happy 34^th Birthday!! I love you! 




*photos by me. 

Home Sweet Home

Our new village of Saint-Léger, Southern France

I once read that "old doors won't open new ways". And since I read it some years ago, I have found it more true with each new year that passes, with each new life experience I encounter. About 3 weeks ago, Jorris and I closed one door and open another. We moved from our tiny studio apartment in the village of Puget-Theniérs to the tiny village (30 inhabitants year-round) of Saint-Léger.

Together we closed the door of village and apartment life. And now we have opened new doors to a house of 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, spacious kitchen and living room and, get this, a honey room/atelier (workshop) below!! Our new home acts as a home and work place. It is owned by the municipality and one must be a farmer to rent it. The mayor, as well as the villagers whom we have met so far have been very welcoming and kind.

Home Sweet Home; I'm envisioning flower pots.

The honeyroom and atelier below; I love the blue shutters, very Provençal.

While the road is windy and 30 minutes to Puget, it is a beautiful drive. Fatiguing yes, since we have to honk at all the blind-turns, which there are many. It takes me about 30 mintues to get to work at the fields below, but the days I have to go to the ferme en haute (farm above, the farm house), it takes about 45 minutes. After a long and hot day of work under the merciless sun, I sigh at the drive back ahead. But, no distance is too long when you know you will arrive to a place you can call home.

We'll probably eventually miss from time to time being able to just run down stairs and step out on Sunday mornings to get some freshly baked croissants, pain au chocolate, eclaires cafés et baguettes from the boulangerie as we did when we lived in Puget (no boulangerie in our tiny village). But for now, it is such a luxury to have so much space! Our tiny studio was a lovely start and a charming experience, but with running a business and building a life together we are in need of space to store all of our creations, honey and natural cosmetics, alike. There are also disadvantages of village apartment life that we won't miss like hearing music from your neighbors perhaps you're not so fond of and village chatter and motor bike engines in the night when you're trying to sleep.

St. Léger Village Center

We live a little outside of our new village. It's smaller than Puget-Theniérs and there is no grocery store. We have one neighbor whom we haven't formally introduced ourselves to yet, but they live below us and have goats and sheep. They produce soap from their goats' milk. Their home is also owned by the municipality. I think they are also a young couple, and we are looking forward to get to know them soon.

It's amazing what a difference physical space can have on one's sense of well-being. The other day, I wanted to play music but Jorris wanted some quiet time, so I was able to go into our guest room and play my heart out! It was so liberating! Like, we could fully express ourselves and share one space together, in different rooms. Both of us were content. Also, a physical distance from work and the village of Puget is so refreshing. Being surrounded by all this beautiful nature is so calming and nourishing to my soul. When I get home from work I can just let it all go, turn the noise down and just be in peace to cook, read, write, play music, snuggle with Bodhi etc.

Bodhi and Frida. 

Bodhi has been enjoying our new home as well. Now he can go outside and also explore nature. He is loving it so far. As an animal, I think it is much healthier for him to be in touch with nature, as it is for us. I love when he comes back home from one of his adventures outside and his fury head smells like wild flowers and herbs.

Bodhi baby exploring the garden with toy. 

Having more space in our home also means being able to invite family and friends over, which is what Jorris and I love to do. Right now, Pap, mon beau pere (my father-in-law) has been here visiting us since we just moved in. His name is Marcel, but in Dutch, pap means dad so I call him pap. It has been such a pleasure to have his presence grace our home. He is such an incredible human being, with a gentle heart and golden hands, as ma belle mere (my mother-in-law) put it so well. He can make anything! He makes guitars, furniture, the best mayonnaise in like 30 seconds (yes it was a life-hack he taught me) and so much more. He also plays the guitars which he builds beautifully, classical pieces and bassa nova, which I am listening to now as I write this blog post.

He has helped Jorris and I with so much: assembling shelves for honey room, labelling jars of honey, cleaning the house, doing laundry, cooking, playing guitar while I cook, playing guitar with me, and today as I write, building us a kitchen which he so generously gifted to Jorris and I. We are so grateful and honored to have Pap bless our home. All the laughs together have been so meaningful. I've always appreciated Pap and now spending so much time with him and getting to know him more, I appreciate him even more.

Meet Pap, our Head Handyman/Contractor/Chef/Guitarist...

Ta-DA!!! I love the touch of the sparkling lights Pap added & so does Jorris.

Also last weekend, Jorris’ cousin Emille and his family of 5 kiddos and wife Yvonne arrived! They are doing a trip throughout europe by train and public transportation. We had a wonderful dinner that Friday night, Jorris’ famous cous cous and ratatouille-sytle veggies. They too are a brave family, having opened a new door themselves 5 years ago when they moved to Sweden from Holland. It was spontaneous and perfect timing that we moved to a bigger house so we could host them. We were excited to receive a whatsapp message from Emille saying how they would love to stop by. They are such a kind and well-rounded family. Pap and Emille and his family inspire me in so many ways. It's such an honor to call them family. 

Pap (Dad in Dutch), about to enjoy a veggie spring roll. 

We had a wonderful time together taking them through Provence to la plage de St. Julien and Lac de St. Croix, through the Gorges de Verdun and up to the most charming village of Moustiers St. Marie where Jorris and I had our first gelato together many summers ago. It was so joyful to re-visit the places where we first got to know each other and to share that with family. We finished our long day of adventure driving through the Lavender fields of Valensole where some fields of Lavender hadn't been cut yet and we could still smell the magic. Jorris stopped by to check on his bees, naturally. I am so happy he had some time to enjoy summer and family since he is working so much. He would never take time off for himself and rarely for us during this busy time of the season, but he was delighted to take time off for family. 

Afternoons are for picnics; Emille, Yvonne and the kiddos. Photo: Pap

Evenings are for guitar concerts. 

Life happens in rhythms big and small. These cycles are constantly shifting and changing within ourselves, within our society, community, Mother Nature. Not to long ago I wrote about the Buddhist concept of Dukkha and reflected upon my own struggles in that moment. And, at now in this moment, we've shifted into a new cycle, moved through a new door, of such joy and abundance in good organic food and a household of love.  

Veggie Spring Rolls for dinner with some veggies from the farm. 

How about those views out those windows!

Fresh organic tomatoes from the farm where I work.

Emille and his family added their touch of love to our home, lending a hand with building the kitchen as well as adding a little surprise of art to the some of the beehives in the atelier. We were told by the kiddos that we were not allowed to enter the atelier. A few hours later they invited us in and the sweet sight nearly brought tears to my eyes. Jorris had a bright smile on his face. Their gift really warmed our hearts and home and our bees' homes. 

A little surprise the kiddos and their mom created. 

Handfuls of magic. 

An artful gift to the bees. 

Jorris and I have walked through many doors together now. We walked through a door of wwoofing and organic farming, the sliding door of the j9 camping car where we lived in while in Villetale Haute, then the wooden doors of the yurt, the door of marriage, and up until recently the grand apartment door of Puget-Théniers, and now the home-y one of Saint-Léger.

Our future garden space! How many butterflies can you spot?

I'm so excited for what the land here will teach me, what plants I will discover, insects, trees and animals. The air is so fresh and the spring water so clean (we saw the report from the Mayor's office!). We also get our water heated by the sun with 2 solar panels on the roof. To top it off, the week before was a full moon and lunar eclipse where, the Moon in all her glory greeted me through my bedroom window, full and bright with the silhouette of a tree in the left and mountains in the foreground of the window frame, a perfect picture. I soaked it all in. 

If you are going through a rhythm of life that is unpleasant, dark or uncomfortable, fear not, for a new door awaits you, sooner than you know. Hang in there. Just be compassionate and patient with yourself. Trust that you'll know which door to open when you see it, and when you see it, though it'll be new and unfamiliar, don't be afraid to step through.

Our old & beautiful door to our apartment in Puget.

*photos by me unless noted otherwise.

Dukkha

We’re all a little bruised and broken. Suffering is indiscriminate. No matter who you are or where you come from or where you were and where you are going, no matter your gender, age, the color of your hair, your morals and beliefs, rich or poor, we all suffer.

The Buddha said that life is Dukkha. Life is suffering. To live is to suffer. Because, as the Buddha explained we are living in the cycle of samsara: life, death, rebirth; and with living comes suffering because karma, the law of cause and effect, can lead to suffering.

Some say our sufferings stem from ancestral wounds that never healed. This is a new concept for me, which I am curious about. I wonder though, does this mean that we can blame others for our suffering? Does this mean that we have no control over it, and it’s all predetermined through an ancestral algorithm of sorts? If not any of these hypotheses, then what does any of it mean?

Of course, humans are not the only beings or spirits which suffer, though I feel as though our suffering is worse because we are complicated creatures who perhaps bring a lot of it upon ourselves.

Some days, like today, all we can do is feel it through and just observe. For me it’s yoga, a walk in the woods, playing guitar, or writing a blog post, but for you, it could be something else. Whatever that space or action that can lead to cathartic expressions I believe can be incredibly healing.

Today I got onto my mat and discovered a deep well of sadness. I felt its darkness and absence of love. I didn’t know it was there until I got into a posture, just lying on my belly and breathing, and I began crying for all the things I felt and couldn’t say. In this state of delicacy, however, my mind was so clear. It was as if my mind was soothing my heart and just observing these emotions, and sort of consoling my heart that it’s ok to feel emotions like sadness and “just cry, just keep breathing and feel what you need to feel, without judgment, attachment or shame,” my mind instructed.

I think my meditation practice has helped me become so much stronger, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. I have to thank Andy Puddicombe from my Headspace app, and my soon to be brother-in-law Steven for having introduced me to the app in spring 2017 when I had gone to visit him and brother Kevin in San Francisco. I’ve been meditating since then and this practice has changed my life.

I’ve learned tools to help me not be afraid of my thoughts or emotions and to just observe them like passing clouds because underneath all the dark clouds there is always a blue sky. This analogy can often be found in meditation practices, and I learned about it through headspace. We just have to remember we have peace of mind all the time (blue sky) and that sometimes those clouds of sadness or doubts will creep in. Meditation has allowed me to better understand myself and my mind. Slowly I begin to see patterns and why I do or think the way I do, all from a place of tender curiosity and deep compassion. I am reminded of how human I am and constantly question what it means to be human and why we do what we do and don’t do what we don’t do.

Life, even in the Southern French Alps, is not always a fairytale. It’s hard no matter where you are. I’ve made more French friends here and have learned of more sad stories and pain and suffering are the recurring theme. It puts things into perspective.

For me life has been so condensed and charged with change these last 6 months. I got married, moved to a new country, moved to a new village within that country, intensified my studies of this new language, continued building my business while my husband continued building his and finding a way for those to blend together, all while raising a young cat and the learning curve that comes with raising a cat for the first time.

In this moment we are the crucible of building a new life, together. It’s getting hot inside as more responsibilities and deadlines pile up for this loan to that. It seems to never end and some weeks, we seem to never see each other as we live in the mountains and loans and banks live in the city and now the bees are on the coast so Jorris has been driving back and forth between all places, his cup filled with bee work, business class work with a dash of bank/finance work.

He’s stretching himself in all directions and you can imagine what that does to a person, and for a newlywed couple. His cup can fill no more. There’s no more room for drops of my quirky jokes or childish comments like this morning when I said “what if I loved Bodhi (our cat) so much he turned into a real human?!” Texting a business text and not hearing my comment, Jorris continued with his work. 

Then those quirky jokes and my wish for attention get swept under the rug and soon the rug isn’t big enough to cover it all up. Then what?

It seems like this sort of pressure-filled feeling has always been in our relationship since the beginning, perhaps a sort of relationship karma? At first it was, soon I’ll have to go back to CA because my visa will expire so we’ll be apart again but for how long; then it was where do we want to make our life in France or U.S.; then now, how are we going to do it...all these choices and life decisions that just seem to keep demanding an answer now.

Jorris had been camping in L’Esterel and working with the bees and various business formations in Nice so we hadn’t really seen each other until we went on a date night on Sunday. It had been the first just-us date night in a while at the local Au Bon Coin (The Good Corner) restaurant in our village. Over trout and pizza we had a moment to just be a couple, and while some clouds lingered, I could see the blue sky for a moment.

This morning though, I’m not sure if it’s as blue. My heart is heavy. I continue to breathe through the uncertainty that is life. What else can we do? Whatever happens though will happen as it should and life will continue because it just does. Someone close to my heart the other day wrote to me and reminded me of how I was a bright ray of sunshine to her from across the ocean and that she admired my authenticity and how I could put love above all else. It was beautifully written and sincere. I felt a sense of peace after reading it because even if I accomplish nothing more in this life, at least I know I inspired love and light from a place of authenticity for one person and that’s more than enough for me.

If, to be human is to suffer, but to suffer is to know or have known true love, beauty and wisdom, then perhaps it is worth it, wherever our paths may lead.





*Photos by Tiffanie Ma

In a Nutshell

Les fleurs sauvage: Primevère Acaule

Sometimes I feel like I’m in my 30s and retired. I’m writing a memoir, gardening, going to the weekly village knitting club, and recently, started a French and English Café Exchange. That looks like the schedule of a retired gal in Southern France, right?! I guess what is not mentioned and not so retire-y is that I am in the process of job hunting, for what I’m not sure, whatever feeds my gypsy soul.

Happy first day of spring!! I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here, my apologies. Life happens fast. No excuses though, I really want to me more present here. I miss Garden Gallivanter and sharing my thoughts here with you all. I feel a shift today, maybe because it’s soon to be a full moon, and it’s the Spring Equinox; and it’s also the first time both are happening at the same time since 1981?!

I want to say that since I’ve been living in the south of France and this life close to nature, I am aligning more to her rhythms. Or, maybe it’s just all in my head, I’m not sure, but I know something is happening. Like today, I took a long nap, knocked out for 2 hours! I love naps, just normally don’t take them, but today, I just really needed one. I’m going to say the Spring Equinox and full moon coming has had something to do with it.

The first day of spring is quite special, especially for beekeepers I suppose, since it marks the first day of the season I would venture to say....to my beekeepers out there, would you agree? The season though, began long before today, months before. Jorris has been working in the workshop up in Villetale building frames for the new hives we will soon pick up in Montpellier (city in Southern France) since January? And, he has been very preoccupied with paperwork and taking mandatory formations in Nice while caring for our hives, which are still on the coast in L’Esterel (I think my favorite place of the French Riviera!)

La bonne brood @L'Esterel.

So much has happened since I was last here, so I’ll try to be brief but thorough. We went to Holland for the holidays. It was picturesque. Northern Europe, if I can call it that, is like the birthplace of Christmas. It felt like that with the Christmas markets and traditions we experienced. Unfortunatley, Jorris' Grandma on his French side, Leonie, passed away, so we made our way back to France, to the Alsace, a north-east region of France with a long historical border conflict with Germany. Despite the circumstances, it was a beautiful opportunity to be with family, and for me, meet new family for the first time.

Colmar Noel Marche

Mon bus route a Nice pour la cours intensive Francais pendant Janvier. 

Mes grandparents, ma Ama et Aye avec mon petit frere Kevin et moi.  

The month of January was busy busy since I was taking an intensive French course in Nice everyday and rode the bus for 3 hours everyday for the month! I loved it and it was so worth it. I made friends and had a superb professor. I really learned so much that one month. I continue working through the text book on my own. I also did two days of important French immigration formalities, which having already gone back and forth to Nice for the week and then having to go on the bus again on Saturday, to spend a whole day of lecture, was extremely exhausting, but I made it.

At the end of February, my Grandpa Ma passed away. He was 96 and truly lived life to the fullest, at least in my eyes. My heart was broken and still healing, just because I loved him so much, and we were so very close. So, I flew home to Los Angeles to pay my respects, read some words from my heart and cried with my family. I got to see my cousins, aunties, uncles, my father, brother, mother, and it really was a most special celebration of life. Perhaps I’ll share my eulogy to my Grandpa with you sometime.

La famille en premiere. Photo: Kevin Ma

It was a whirlwind, emotionally, and physically, since I was fighting terrible jet-lag and was only in L.A. for 3 full days before flying back to France! I did get to fly back however, with my mom, cousin Kitty (Kat), and my brother Kevin. We landed in Paris where Steven, my soon-to-be brother-in-law, would meet us. They had planned to come visit me months ago, since the end of last fall I believe. Kat was the surprise element, though, with the whole change of plans with my Grandpa leaving us, the “cat” was out of the bag when I was talking to my mom about my seat selection and she said, “I wonder if there’s a seat near me...well, I’m sitting next to Kat, and there’s maybe...oh shoot!...”

Truthfully though, I had known a few weeks ago about the surprise when my sweet Nimbo Thin told me with such enthusiasm for Kat to see Europe for the first time and go on a vacation! I really was so honored to be the one to introduce her to Europe and France.

Ça fait longtemps <333

Mon autre demi devant Monet. 

Le Louvre

We had a wonderful time in Paris for the weekend; I played pushy tour-guide and got us around the landmarks and museum must-sees of Paris. I won’t bore you with the details, unless you’re interested; but suffice it to say that no time was left squandered because we were either walking, perusing through impressionist paintings of Monet or eating yummy food. I will say though, that my favorite museum was L’Orangerie, for it’s serenity, beauty and it just left an “impression” on me.

I felt like Grandpa Ma was watching over us because things would happen like it was raining a bit the last day and we wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower and while it rained during the car ride, it stopped just as we got out! And it stayed dry and sunny through all the pics and then when we got back in another uber, it started raining again! I saw out the window this woman pushing against the strong gusts of wind with her umbrella that looked like it was nearly going to break!

Sacré Cœur.

Poor Steven had been sick so actually had to change his flight and come to join us the last day we were in Paris, only to fly again that same evening to Nice, since that was in our itinerary. Kat, and he and I did get to go to Montmarte and Sacré Cœur, which was quite special, as we clinked les cafés and roughly ripped off pieces of la baguette to share.

Les tous que on a besoin! Santé!

Ils sont heureux dans Montmarte. 

After arriving to Nice, we drove through the alps to their air b’n b which was right across the bridge from our apartment which was great! We spent a few days here, showing them around the village, Entrevaux, Guillaumes and dinner in Valberg so they could meet my French entourage. Ma belle mère, my mother-in-law, was also here! She had planned to visit as well and it just so happened to be at the same time of my family's visit. I was happy for her to have met my family and shared a brunch at the air b 'n b. That night, it was a cozy dinner at our favorite L’Italiano, in Valberg where we had our marriage luncheon 6 months ago!

I was happy that they now have faces to names I always talk about. We were all hungry and happy, stuffed with comfortingly decadent pasta dishes all-around, and wine, of course. My Mom was so sweet and paid for dinner for everyone! She has such a generous heart. And the best part was when she said, “Thank you all for taking care of Tiffanie.” My friends were touched and so was I. I felt like my Mom had come a long way from where we started in this French journey. It hasn’t always been smooth, nor easy. But, I think she’s arrived at a place of peace with it all, even happiness for me.

Dans le médiéval village d'Entrevaux. 

Le dîner @ L'Italiano dans Valberg, notre resto préféré. 

On a apprecié les mimosas dans L'Esterel. 

I’m proud of my family for coming all this way to visit me. It meant the world. We shared many beautiful moments, which I’ll cherish forever. I’m proud of them because it takes a lot of physical strength and an open heart to ride through the windy roads of the French alps and being in any new culture can be challenging. And it was all done in a short time and all of us having some jet-lag, plus, perhaps having been emotionally exhausted with my Grandpa’s funeral.

It took me a week to recover, to get back into my routine without missing them. The goodbye was more emotional than I was expecting. We hugged at the bus stop at the corner across from Galeries de Lafayette (shopping mall). I was catching the 2pm bus. I think I cried a little when I saw my Mom’s eyes well up...and then after hugging Kitty and seeing her eyes change with a little glimmer of tears. I stayed strong through my last embraces of everyone. It wasn't until on the bus ride that all my tears fell like a waterfall. I tried to contain myself. But, they were more tears of utter joy for having been able to spend such precious time with each other, since time is really so precious.

Ma mère, aka Mumsy. Photo: Kevin Ma

Tout les sourit.  Photo: Kevin Ma

Which is why I am starting a new routine by not staring my morning off with Instagram. I used to sip my coffee and scroll through Instagram and noticed with the new screen time app and just in general, that I was on there too much, like an hour in the morning and then there were more hours throughout the day. I realized with all those hours, I could finish the door-stopper of a book, Vietnam: A History The First Complete Account of the Vietnam War by Stanley Karnow, and in turn, finish the family memoir I am writing with my Auntie Barbara about our family's escape from Vietnam to America. It was my Grandpa Ma’s mission to flee Communist Vietnam with the whole family, and it really is an extraordinary tale, which needs to be written. I had wanted my Grandpa to see it in print, but I know he’ll be proud either way that we preserved a piece of history not only of our family, but of the world.

Le dernier dîner. 

Anyway, it’s not to say that I don’t like Instagram or against it; it’s just I have many projects to give my time too and while I find the app inspiring and a great way tool of connection and expression, I want to live life more presently. I want to see something beautiful in nature and just appreciate it without thinking of pulling out my phone for a photo or feeling the need to document everything I do. I just want to do the things I do and enjoy them. Who else feels me out there?

I also enjoy writing here at Garden Gallivanter and sharing pictures on this platform that better tell a story with more thought and reflection. Stories can be beautifully told on Instagram too, but I guess I’m just an old-fashioned gal at heart who prefers using word to write and blogpost to blog. If I had it my way, I would have my typewriter (next on my list of what to bring to France next time I’m back in CA) here and typing this all out and snail mailing to subscribers! Ok, maybe that is a little over doing it. Call me old-fashioned, but I am also a 21^st Century woman ;) Until next time, hopefully à trés bientôt! Ciao!

         Ce qui? <333  Photo: Kevin Ma

*photos by Tiffanie Ma, otherwise noted, or by kind strangers.