family · photography · Travel


Our trip to France was sweet.

I’m not talking about the food, which, of course, was amazing.

My food pictures leave something to be desired — not the food, my pictures.

Like this dessert — I don’t remember what it was, but it was delicious.

Or these crepes — which looked so wonderful that I started to eat them and then remembered to take a picture.

I took a picture of these meringues on Day 1 because I had never seen such large meringues. The patisserie was closed but I wanted to remember to buy some later. Unfortunately I forgot.

This pastry with apricots was really good but I can’t remember the name.

The sweetest thing about that pastry, though, was that my siblings and I sat outside on a bench to enjoy our selections from the patisserie together. We talked and enjoyed the morning sun before heading back to our hotel.

For years, I had heard my father say that he really wanted to see the beaches of Normandy — so we made it happen.

He probably doesn’t remember the trip today — at least not without the aid of the photo book we put together.

But we remember.

For one week last May, we fulfilled one of my father’s dreams — and had a good time doing it.

That’s the sweetest part.


9 thoughts on “Sweet

  1. Great post on “sweet” – I chuckled my way through it because I always remember to take a photo of the food after it is gone or half eaten.

  2. Kindness is the sweetest of things and what you and your family did for your father was pure kindness to him and to yourselves (a highly underrated activity when done mindfully) …. I know he absorbed it all in the moment and though he doesn’t now remember without prompting his spirit is doused in the sweetness of that trip and that is good for him and for you. As for Pâtisserie … you have NO idea how hard it is for me living here 😉 PS: Would you like me to bring you some of those meringues when I make my big move? I think I should 😊

    1. I make meringues but they’re very hit or miss — and always single bite size. I like to pop it in my mouth and feel it melt. I can’t imagine how fragile those large ones are!

      I also can’t imagine the culture shock of no Patisserie. American bakeries are nothing like what France has to offer!

      1. I’m psyching myself up for the brutality of the change (will be April I think) and making the most of those beauteous boutiques whilst I can …. the meringues always remind me of my father who adored them and insisted on calling them remingues silly old bear that he was. Mine always turn out too toffee-ish in the centre. Do you know a dessert called Elton Mess? Its the best ever use of fragile meringues …..

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