Once a year, while I am in France, I get together with my friend Violaine. Violaine and I went to middle school together in Clermont-Ferrand and, together with our classmates Ghislaine and Marie-José, we spent many great times together. After my family moved to the United States, we continued corresponding and finding ways of checking in with each other in the summer.
This year, Violaine invited me to her family's country home here in the Auvergne. The 200 year old house, its garden and adjacent building are simply stunning and reflect the fact that it has belonged to one family for four generations now. From her grandmother's faded portrait on the mantlepiece, to the faded wallpaper in the salon, to her mother's old rusted bicycle in the vaulted basement, the place exudes charm.
I asked Violaine if she minded if I took a few photos to post on Pardon Me. "Non. I don't mind," she said with a smile.
Merci beaucoup pour ton amitié, Violaine.
This year, Violaine invited me to her family's country home here in the Auvergne. The 200 year old house, its garden and adjacent building are simply stunning and reflect the fact that it has belonged to one family for four generations now. From her grandmother's faded portrait on the mantlepiece, to the faded wallpaper in the salon, to her mother's old rusted bicycle in the vaulted basement, the place exudes charm.
I asked Violaine if she minded if I took a few photos to post on Pardon Me. "Non. I don't mind," she said with a smile.
Merci beaucoup pour ton amitié, Violaine.
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