When we were assigned to write a limerick in sixth grade, mine included a reference to France. OK, I’ll even share it:
There was an old lady from France
Who needed to know how to dance
She twisted and turned
But never learned
Until she put ants in her pants.
I took four years of high school French and then two semesters in college.
I have an Eiffel Tower ornament for my Christmas tree that I keep in my living room all year round.
I have an Eiffel Tower postcard by my desk. A friend brought it back from Paris last year at my request.
Last summer a friend and I talked about going to Paris. He gave me three books — The Cafes of Paris, France’s Best-Loved Driving Tours and Let’s Go Map Guide Paris.
I have a coffee table book called The Paris Apartment filled with dreamy pictures and fun tidbits about how to make a room evoke Paris. There are five pictures in a sort of montage hanging above my bed — three of them are French. Another French picture hangs next to my dresser.
Yikes, shall I go on? I’m obsessed, yes?
Tonight a friend and I were having margaritas in a Mexican restaurant. The people next to us were speaking French, not exactly the norm in Hoboken.
I just recently wrote a post called “French Fancy” listing all sorts of synchronicity on this topic.
The point of all this? Opportunity may be meeting the prepared mind.
Stay tuned …