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Aix, the looking-up-tour: Le spa, le sex, les preservatifs

I have not managed to do much in the way of blogging this week because too much has gotten in the way of it. Going on a week abroad, classes started, and my waking schedule modified to normal daylight hours, I feel like I just may have this living in France business figured out, enough. Enough to start writing about it, at least. Of course, I am saying this after wandering down to my local cafe/bar last night, hoping for an inexpensive side of fries and a very small carafe of rosé to accompany my writing of an abstract that needs to be promptly submitted to a conference. This is what happened…

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Apartment Tour for post 100!

Cézanne walked in front of my apartment and took his first art class in the art school-turned-Museum across the street. But then again, he walked all over Aix because he lived here most of his life. You can follow the Cézanne plaques all over Aix, every four feet or so, until they stop abruptly somewhere…

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The Lazy Gardener: A Kernel of Truth

A Kernel of Truth My family had a large one acre garden when I was growing up, which afforded us the ability to grow crops that took up a large amount of space.  We always had several different varieties of corn; consequently, we often had fresh corn for dinner.  I thought nothing of it as…

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En France, je suis comme ca . . .

In France, I am like this . . . A bit lost when the Monoprix clerk asks me a question in French, as I bag my own groceries not quite quickly enough. I smile apologetically and mutter in French, je ne parle pas français tres bien (barely at all, in truth) and he shrugs and…

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France or bust

Buckhouse Blog is headed to France, tomorrow. To Provence, Aix-en-Provence, to be exact. These are the main reasons that I have not updated the blog in the last few days. I’ve been doing a bit of this . . . Packing too much. And some of this . . . Flipping out. Because while it…

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Today, it was . . .

Today the sky looked bluer and the air smelled saltier. Today, the boys started school. Today, I bandaged up a knee and I thought about how quickly the seasons change without warning. Today, I fastened a 35mm fixed-length lens onto my camera and I thought about how photographs capture singular moments, but not the passing of…

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The Lazy Gardener: What goes up

To the fabulous readers of Buckhouse: First of all, welcome . . . We are so happy to have you! To keep you in the know: I asked my gardening-savvy cousin —who dwells in sunny California— to guest post weekly on Buckhouse, as a way to glean all of his tips and tricks for budget kitchen…

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{Places we go} Hudson Valley

Coming down from the giddiness of being Freshly Pressed on Friday, which was quite exciting, and getting my hair cut and colored by an inexperienced hairdresser, which was quite terrifying, I ventured down to the city this weekend for some family time, eating, and shopping. When I say the city, what I mean is New York City. When…

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{DIY} Distressed Wood Counter

Supplies: An IKEA butcher block counter A few foam brushes Old T-shirts or rags 100 and 150 grit sandpaper Pad sander Miscellaneous tools (damage makers) Tacky cloth Natural bristle brush for oils / stains Stain and / or coffee Topcoat —Waterlox or similar Steelwool Mineral spirits for clean up Rubber gloves If you are trying to…

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Originally posted on Splash of Something: It’s summer. It’s hot. My poor little oven groans every time I feel the culinary call. “Again?” it says. “Can’t we just pop in a Christmas movie and snack on a pack of Oreos?” “Oh, little oven,” I reply. “These are the days life lessons are made of. We…

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To the new renter of unit D

I love this letter that the previous tenant of Unit D left for my sister. The note explains –in feeling and descriptive language– what she experienced while dwelling in the space, ranging from the noises leaking into her apartment from the other units to the feel of the carpet on her bare feet. This is…

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