Since we lost Nora Ephron last week, there have been tributes circulated in print and on screen, lauding her relatable wit and quietly profound wisdom. Like many women, her films (and moreover her words) always got me. Whenever I find myself channel surfing, even though I've seen You've Got Mail and Julie and Julia more times than I can admit, I always stop the remote. I inevitably get pulled in. A few movie minutes with a Nora Ephron film is like lunch with an old favorite friend.
I do not believe in eating cereal on Saturdays. Use your nice plates, make something special, top the table with a vase of flowers. Announce the arrival of the weekend with a breakfast extraordinary.
Like Amélie Poulain, my life is all about the littlest pleasures: the freshest, pinkest raspberries; the deep blue of a Vermeer painting; the perfect crispness of a glass of Prosecco; the divine simplicity of an afternoon at the beach; the heavenly scent of a vanilla bean. Here I blog to celebrate the good life, la dolce vita, la belle vie. Cherish life's petits plaisirs and enrich your daily existence.
You should know that I take liberties with grammar, punctuation, & diction. Do not fear! I assure you I've been educated about the woes of abundant comma usage or the impropriety of ending a sentence with a preposition. Here, as this is not my dissertation, I write as I talk. I also make up words on occasion.
"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." -Ernest Hemingway