Every day we walk between the rental house that we’re living in for this first year that we’re in France and the home that we bought recently. We don’t have plans for extensive renovations but we’ve been doing lots of cleaning, patching, and painting. This has generated all sorts of trash that we’ve dutifully sorted between our recycle bin and the rubbish bin. Yesterday when we turned the corner on to our new street we both immediately noticed that our recycle bin was sitting in front of our neighbor’s window and there was a bright red tag attached to the handle. Considering that we’re currently a guest in the country, we’ve tried really hard to follow all the rules, written and rumored, subtle and in-your-face obvious, so our stomachs churned at what was obviously some kind of infraction. Continue reading “The red tag (not so) special”

In Atlanta we built a British pub in the basement of our home. We tried to make it as authentic as possible including a pressed copper ceiling, faux tobacco-stained walls, memorabilia from the UK, and a letter from the Queen acknowledging our desire to bring a bit of British culture to America. The furnishings all had a dark Old World feel to them including the Windsor armchairs that even came with roughed up seats and tiny holes in the ribs to simulate years of munching by woodworms. Let me tell you, looking authentic doesn’t come cheap. Continue reading “Real vs. authentic”