Tongue in Cheek

Take a bowl, mash a banana in, Oats uncooked, let the mixture begin, Add an egg, a spoon of yogurt, heaping, And cinnamon, salt, to make it worth keeping.

For a pop of flavor, don't be shy, Ginger, orange peel, coconut to try, And just a touch of nutmeg zest, To make it pop-a-lious, be our guest.

Heat a pan, let butter melt and swirl, Pour in...

Yesterday's link to the post did not connect you to the personal video.

Here is the correct link:

“ I hope there are days when your coffee tastes like magic,

your playlist makes you dance,

strangers make you smile,

and the night sky touches your soul.

I hope there are days when you fall in love with being alive.”

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Click on the text below to see more photos x

“ I hope there are days when your coffee tastes like magic,

your playlist makes you dance,

strangers make you smile,

and the night sky touches your soul.

I hope there are days when you fall in love with being alive.”

“

Gabriel enjoys drawing: people, the sun, and flowers. After school at the park, he carefully describes his art to Olivia while she holds onto her banana halves.

Chelsea sent me this photo of the artist and his admirer.

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(Photo: A Roman ring seen at the French brocante last weekend.)

The French brocante offers more than disregarded dusty old things from someone's attic, and it offers more than hopeful boxes of disheveled, could-be treasures. The French brocante is not just a place to find unbeatable prices or the chance to find a Picasso. It is a living museum ...

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The poet Arne Garborg championed the use of Landsmål (now known as Nynorsk, or New Norwegian), as a literary language; he translated the Odyssey into it. He founded the weekly Fedraheimen in 1877, in which he urged reforms in many spheres including political, social, religious, agrarian, and...

These two are

too little to know

What their Vavie does with her time

One day when I am gone 

this blog will remain

a history of little things

for them to read and see-

and you will be there too.

Hi Corey 

I can't seem to log on to anything else so hope you can do something with this!!

I have been following you from Australia forever it seems, before your Dad died.

Your posts used to arrive about 3pm and I eagerly would log in to see what was happening in your life.

I have been married to Graeme for 58yrs & known him since we...

Last call for Who is Who on my blog. Please send me a photo of yourself and a note about yourself.
Please send it here:

coreyamaro@aol.com

THANK YOU!

Thank you for sharing a photo of yourself on my blog. I imagine some of you wanted to but were shy or maybe did not want your image on a social media platform. I understand. Though for those of you who did, thank you, and for your messages, I was delighted to put a face to names I have read for years.

Here are a few more...

Hello,

Please, if you want send me a photo of yourself and a bit about yourself.

Thank you for letting me "see" you.

You can send me a photo by email at

coreyamaro@aol.com

xxx

It's supposed to say...My other half Randy and I are on our last big trip.

With love from Kathy, a  long-time reader (and fan) of Corey and her blog!

Hi Corey,

Hello, there, Lovely Readers!

I hope you're all doing well. I have a fun idea that I think you'll enjoy. I would love to create a "Who is Who" section on my blog where I showcase all of you. You heard that right - I want to feature your photo on my blog.

All you have to do is send in a photo of yourself and a brief description (Your name, at...

Here I am ((Ella), with la petite Simone as we make...

Photo by my cousin Joan

Hello, there, Lovely Readers!

I hope you're all doing well. I have a fun idea that I think you'll enjoy. I would love to create a "Who is Who" section on my blog where I showcase all of you. You heard that right - I want to feature your photo on my blog.

All you have to do is send in a photo of yourself and a brief...

Behold the tulips' blooms of orange bright,

That bring the sun's warm, golden light.

Their beauty unfolds to a song so dear,

That only the hearts of children can hear.

On the stool he stands

with carefree ease one foot in the air.

He is king on this sturdy old thing

claims it as a step ladder, to myself I shake my head,

« Should we take it home? » he says.

Ignoring the convincing chatter of reasons I should say no

I admire him, as he continues to balance with

His unawareness of...

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The art of not being in the spotlight,

and instead following the way of humbleness.

Sacha posted on his Instagram his latest adventure filming.

Mother to son,

 »Please tell me you were safe?”

Son to Mother,

“Absolutely not.”

Mother responds,

“Yikes.”

And wonders why her hair is all white.

 

The moment I saw this, I had goosebumps.

Countless times later, I still am moved.

And now Gabriel and I have watched it at least 15 times. We know some of the words and act the scene out; he is the conductor or drummer, and it is magical and holy at the same time. The first time he listened to it, he grabbed my arm and held it...

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Chocolate Pear Brownie, or in French- Gateau au chocolat a la Poire (Of course I made that up, and my French is not to be taken seriously. Though I did write gateau, chocolat and poire the right way.)
Either way, in French or in English, Chocolate Pear Brownie is delicious and you will eat all of it so it is best to invite friends...

Driving along the twisty roads of southern Italy, we searched for antique shops, secondhand stores, and anything that we could find to renovate the apartment. The challenge was not to be distracted by the many beautiful abandoned century-old houses with their faded patina, stone steps, and worn shutters that echoed life from the hilltop...

Little by little, we did it

 ...  well most of it. 

Mental jogging even when I was sleeping my mind was checking boxes as to what had to be done before I left.

Paint color for rooms - check.

Tiles for bathroom showers - check. 

Faucets - check

Now, the magic hands will set to work while we are away.

We searched the Italian countryside for pieces to furnish my friend’s pied-à-terre.

It wasn’t as easy as being in France. We managed to find a few pieces. Though the real fun was navigating the roads and language. The long twisty road home had different landmarks for each of us. Places or things my friend saw were...

Grabbing the plastic bag I had prepared the night before, I left early in the morning for my friend Annie's house. (Annie is my friend who is 89, though she says she is 90 because she is closer to 90 than 89.) Annie told me to come early and what to bring to make Bugnes. Bugnes, like oreillettes, are similar to beignets or dough-nuts, though...

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Green feast

iron heart

ivy growing abundantly

framing the door

as if to say,

 »Looky here, take a photo of me! » 

It has been a week since I came to Italy to help my friend Laurie (whom I met through blogging) navigate creating a pied-à-terre. My friend and her cousins bought a property divided into three apartments in the center of an old village between Rome and Naples. Though the apartment has been renovated, several changes and decisions exist mainly...

A few more days in Italy. So much more to say when time permits and the wifi works faster.

How many hilltop villages does it take before I stop gasping at the sight of them? How many villages have I said I could live here? How many empty old homes are there in the French and Italian countryside?

The dream is to breath life back into these places. To be able to wind them up like a music box and watch daily life return. Farmers,...

Last week I was at the Park with this Cupcake. Was it cold? Yes! Why isn’t she wearing gloves? Well, if you have ever tried to put gloves on a child you know why.

Italy -

In a tucked away place, far from the maddening crowd, down a long narrow road, snugged in the homeland of a friend’s family who has asked me to come to be a sounding board as she creates a vacation home, or as she calls it,

“A womb.”

The small town has opened its arms as if we have been friends for a thousand years. My friend...

The few trees that remain on the path by our home create a crown for the sun.

The word tablespoon is worn off my Mother's measuring spoons; this is another indicator of how much my Mother cooks. This love language of hers is shared homemade generosity and measured in heaps.

The tattered loved-worn cookbook is filled with tried and true recipes stuffed with sweet mementos, marriage announcements,...

Stepping back from wearing black was a challenge. Black is comfortable, it goes with any moment, dress up, dress to blend in, or disappear in the crowd. My wardrobe was 95 percent black. Nearly a year ago, I put my black-colored clothing aside. Thanks to Laurie-Annya Linfoot, who encouraged me, I dared to step out of my comfort zone and...

Sacha, Yann, and Fabrice (Sacha’s childhood friend) went skiing in Vars. Before they left, I, with a bit of anxiety, “Stay on course, please. No off-trail skiing, okay.” Yeah, that fell on deaf ears. (Photo by one of them - Sacha in his old purple and gold ski clothes, a nod to Willows honker.

The authentic Parisienne influencer.

Beret, scarf, espresso, sitting at a cafe at 2 pm,

those iconic chairs, table water and bistro glass, black coin purse on a bistro marble-top table with brass edging,

wrapped sugar cube, newspaper placed to the side,

not a pre-posed photo opt, genuine daily life.

The real deal, and maybe her name is...

Close to our apartment in Paris is the small charming Place Flora Tristan. I was walking past it when a bright red Deudeuche (Citroën 2 CV) drove up and illegally parked. I was never so pleased about an illegally parked car because I knew that the red-door bakery facade was behind me; the driver left the engine running, which meant...

May it never be emptied.

May it have room for more.

Bringing love.

Giving love.

Responding with love.

Being love.

Learning the language of love.

Putting love in first.

If only that were true with my every action and word.

While standing at a rush hour street corner in Paris waiting for the light to turn green,  bicyclists ignored traffic signs, screeching mopeds played Russian roulette, and the coming and going of people with busy lives taking refuge with their headphones and sirens creating nervous tension; I could not be distracted.

Here and...

Last night the sunset was spectacular. I was walking alongside the Tuileries Garden when this came to view. A surprise. I walked faster to catch the photo I wanted: The obelisk, the lion, and the Eiffel Tower at the place de la Concorde. Hundreds of people had the same idea. Squeezing past them, I walked out onto the street and...

Walking around Paris this evening I was definitely one of the oldest. Funny, how realizations come to a person. It wasn’t as if I was thinking about age, or doing a survey on grey haired people, it seems life tapped me on the shoulder and grinned,

«Do you see what I see? »

« Yeah, and I feel good. »

Sixty-Five

Gosh that sounds significant.

So thankful to have my family surrounding me

happily

&

healthy.

Long may it last this greatest joy!