This past Fall while my boyfriend and I were visiting Portland, Oregon we spent an afternoon in the International Rose Test Garden. Amazingly it opened in 1917 and it still thriving as a public garden that acts as a test ground for new rose species. Even though we visited in September, there were many roses still in full bloom. I made sure to drop a postcard from their shop in the mail to my Mother who has a new found love for roses.
Soon after my trip while I was Christmas shopping, I happened upon a book filled with lovely drawings and stories on the origins of rose names. It made a wonderful gift for my Mother who oohed and ahhhed as she flipped the pastel filled pages. A Rose by Any Other Name by Douglas Brenner & Stephen Scanniello is a wonderful book for creative inspiration and even offers a recipe for rose water.
I’d highly recommendm the garden if you find yourself in Portland, Oregon or simply pick up the book if you need a sweet read.
I suppose my love for all things French started in the hallways of my Brooklyn elementary school. I was 6 years old, a kindergartener with dark long braids who wore dresses and tights daily. I remember weekly visits from Madame ‘something-or-other’ who entertained us for what seemed like an entire day with french words, songs and games. I learned all of the body parts in french thanks to a song I recall sounding like Frère Jacques. I am pretty sure she sang the tune but substituted the song with words to teach us body parts. I remember ‘a la tete’ most of all and can still see her tapping her head as if it was yesterday.
This post is my ode to all things french that I fell in love with as a little girl. My sincerest gratitude to a very progressive elementary school for giving me such a chic start. Merci!