Saturday, July 27, 2013

Brush Up on Our French

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Here at the Bunny Bungalow, we love small animals, especially rabbits, so Misha sent a photo of a fitting post card she found on holiday in Provence.

Just have to say:  Even though I have cheered the digital age and always bought the "next thing," I didn't miss the irony of  e-mailing a photo of a post card...Très bizarre!  And I love it.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Are Those Bears Ours?

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Photo by Misha in a French Village

I want to be the South of France.  Shopping looks more fun from this side of the ocean, doesn't it?

Oh, did you get the pun in the title of this post?

Monday, July 22, 2013

Well, Grab My Baguette!

Photo by Misha

My Daughter Misha is on holiday in the South of France.  I love the smartphone photos she has been sending of the grandchildren and all the sights.  Isn't this shop adorable?  

From a French car show, she sent a photo of an antique Bibendum, to which I responded: "I  have been lusting after a Bibendum."  Immediately she volleyed with a photo and asked, "Is he O.K.?"

Bibendum photo by Misha

Is he O.K?!!  The Bibendum she found is the most adorable French version of the Michelin Man one could ever dream of."  By the way, how did she do that?  Did she have the little fat guy up her sleeve?

The Kid is I sent her another message, "I am lusting for a French Bastide."  I can't wait...gotta go check my e-mail.
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Saturday, July 20, 2013

Up With the Chickens

As the Texas Summer is hot on our heels, Tall Husband and I are up with the proverbial chickens each morning.  Our mission?  Walking our two dogs, Skipper and Scooter, who refuse to poop in the garden.  So, equipped with ice water, dog bowl, Martha Stewart doggie-poop bags, hand wipes, and so on...we head out of the Bunny Bungalow.  I would like to tell you that we choose the route but the truth is, the dogs have us leash trained.  If you have never walked a dog, you haven't experienced the whole social milieu that surrounds the dog world.

First of all, the pooping part is only an incidental act for our Scooter and Skipper.  The real purpose of the walk is high adventure.  The two little characters frantically sniff their way through the neighborhood, on the lookout for squirrels, possums, cats...and failing that, the pee of other dogs. Upon finding a fresh spot, they take turns hiking a leg and leaving a contribution, but only if they know and like the dog who left that wet spot on the trail.  When we reach the gate of a favorite canine pal, they each hike a leg and leave what Tall Husband calls a message..."Sorry we missed you; catch you later, Me."  When they do encounter a pal, there is, immediately, butt sniffing.  One must get that out of the way first. This ritual is followed by high fives, executed with fancy foot work and excited vocalization, as they slap their front paws together;   Meanwhile, we owners exchange cute dog stories and our dogs' names, but not usually our own names.  Consequently, we know all the neighborhood dogs by name but know each other by Henry's Mommy, Iggie's Daddy, or Foxy's Pop.

Gotta go, 'cause Scooter is insisting that it's time for the afternoon this heat?!  And Gryf has her Mom at our front gate.

French, antique school slate on which I have drawn a whimsical rooster to amuse myself between dog walks.

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