|A Year in Provence|
I have a lifelong dream of moving to southern France. Despite the improbability of such an event, it is a dream that will never die.
I imagine myself riding my bike to and from town, returning each afternoon with a basket of fresh groceries for dinner. We drive to the coast for an afternoon in the sun or head to family-owned restaurants for traditional French cuisine. I befriend locals and always wear chic sundresses. The whole time the theme from Sabrina, one of my favorite pieces of music ever, plays magically in the air.
Ok, ok. My fantasy seems to take place in the 1950s. In this scenario only, I am weirdly ok with that. Maybe Julia Roberts can make an appearance and Mona Lisa Smile the whole town into modern views on women's roles.
All that to say, when I come across a book that exemplifies this ideal, I soak up every word. A Year in Provence proved itself such a book.