WHERE DID I GO SO HORRIBLY WRONG?
I'se inconsolable. Look at this--jes' LOOK at this. It coulda been mah life, but oh no, I wuz sure bein' reasonable an' reality based t'was the right path. ( I mighta even been a wee bit smug in mah attitude. SOB! now whose smug?)
Here is what the owner wrote Dec 10th of her good fortune:
"Yep....it's true. My overseas realtor called ~said he'd found the perfect house with an especially attractive, functional dining room. we packed in a day and were out of here the next. We've already enjoyed our first candelight dinner. Can you stand it?"
(uh, talk about smug?? Ok okokokok! I would be too!)
NO! No no no, I cain't. OH I cain't , I cain't stand it.
Ok....she wuz kiddin' I think...but, but...
But wait! Thar's some real salt in the imaginary wounds!
I innocently follow a few blogs...hunting fer French pottery grating plates (fer grating ginger or nutmeg or garlic)
an' thinkin' to figger out how to use mah bounty of wild greenery on the fireplace mantles
( ohhhh, chicken wire, huh?)
an' what do mah wonderin' eyes see? A French Country House? At Christmas? An' who lives in this house? People who...who... who jes' did it--made it happen.
Ain't foolin' ya' none a'tall , Dear Gentle Bloggers: I thought I might faint over the keyboard. Mah blood pressure dropped to 60 / 20 , 'cause I is in shock, SHOCK!! It might have been Aunty in that house.....if only...if only....what?
If only a thousand other factors had lined up jes' so?
Real life ain't like the movies, ya know, no Meg Ryan scenarios like French Kiss.
Well ole' Belle, it DID for some folks, as ya see very painfully plain, rah'cheer.