Bringing Paris home

Paris. Our trip has become like a dream in my memory. It resembles a story that you only remember parts of, only the good parts (not that there were any bad parts in our fairytale). Maybe it is more like a movie, but it plays in slow motion in my mind. I have been missing Paris lately and wondering how I could bring something of it home to help me hold onto it a little longer.

I cannot recreate the chateau where we stayed, though I wish I could.

I could put on this outfit again, though I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. It really is only Paris worthy.

I miss the country-side, which is impossible to recreate as we live in the city.

I miss the art... definitely cannot recreate that.

I miss the wine that every street cafe brought out to us in jugs.
I miss the pizza cafes and the late night talking with my husband, sister, and her husband.

And oh the colors. I suppose I could try and recreate the colors, but my cute carpenter is hesitant to be bold enough to truly recreate the Paris look and color.

I miss picturesque moments that just kept appearing at ever corner as if they were waiting for us to walk up with our camera.

I cannot recreate the skyline.

Or the quaintness.
But what about the flowers? Flower boxes hung from practically every window. They billowed with vine geraniums and ivy that certainly only grows in Paris.

And so I tried...

I know it's not the same, in fact it is almost a little sad by comparison, but for now it will have to do.

My cute carpenter made these flower boxes for me. You can read about it here. Have a beautiful, flower box filled weekend.