La Poste

This was my post office in Rochefort. A perfect example of why I love France. Most cities in the US would have a really boring post office, but not the French, oh no. They don't do anything halfway.

The Flowers They Carried

So I have decided that I will no longer be posting on the weekends. Mostly because I am too lazy to post Every Single Day. I will try to get it up before two in the afternoon... yea I have no excuse for that one.

Happy Valentines Day!

Birthday Wishes

Now you might be looking at this post, Ted I certainly hope you are, and be thinking, what is this picture? Why is Ted next to a bunch of flowers? Firstly, Ted posed, so that was his choice not mine. Secondly, screw you. A man can pose next to flowers if he wants to. Don't even get me started on all that hetero-normative crap dictating what is considered manly or feminine. If Ted wants flowers, well then he is getting some pretty flowers. Ted – HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

 Hope you like the flowers.

Send in the cows

Cows make themselves so easy to photograph. They all turn as one.

Au marché

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the most eloquent when it comes to words. I cannot possibly succeed in conveying the smells and sounds of a Saturday morning market. I'll leave you with some pictures and hope they tell their own story.

Birthday Wishes

This is almost 2 months after the fact, but some of you might enjoy looking at pictures from the anniversary of my 24th year. That is what the French call it, an anniversary - or anniversaire. Seems very appropriate to me.  I invited Jess and our friend Caroline to make the long 3-hour train trek to Rochefort. I lured them out to the boonies with promises of cake and champagne. I also threw in some macaroons for good measure.

Now these macaroons are not your grandmother's macaroons. Well maybe... but only if your grandmother is a Parisian pastry chef. These little pillows of almond flour cradle flavored creams of lemon, raspberry, pistachio, chocolate, and coffee. So many different flavors of loveliness! Sometimes I just want to eat macaroons everyday for the rest of my life. But I digress...

The real pièce de résistance was my chocolate mousse cake. Imagine, if you will — chocolate mousse with chocolate shavings and a marzipan plaque. Everyone in France spells my name with an accent, which doesn't bother me. At least they always say my name right the first time.

Just looking at this cake makes me want to eat it all over again. Lastly, but definitely not least was the bottle of champagne (pronounced "sham-pahn-ya") that we drank. The most surprising thing about champagne is how heavy the bottle is, even with it is empty. Apparently, the bottle is made in three pieces: the two sides and the top ring, so that French swordsmen can slice off the top piece of glass and open the bottle in one fell swoop. We did not have a sword to open the bottle, but luckily champagne corks practically open themselves.


Jess also brought along France's idea of a birthday candle, also known as the sparkler. I have to give the French props for their choice of candle in this case. A giant tower of sparkling madness is one hell of a way to hail in a new year in your life.

Lovely Ville de Rochefort

As my mother recently reminded me, I have not yet posted anything about Rochefort.

Mom, here are some pictures just for you!

The street where I live (also the name of the school where I work)

The lovely Gare de Rochefort

The harbor

 

The park I walk through on my way into town.