Isn't the little sprig delightful? Sometimes, small things carry big weight, and this was an idea I contemplated in Normandy.
Almost everything about Normandy impressed me, from the tiny flowers in the grass, to the giant castles we visited, to virtually every meal we ate, to the hard-working servers of those meals. With my crafter's eye, I soaked in French culture and atmosphere, paying attention to little things: the spray of color on stone from stained glass, the quick glimpse of a beautiful 18th century home through a break in a wall as we drove by, the pansies in a window box, the baa-ing of the goats at Point du Hoc, the perfection of a Nutella crepe or pain au chocolat, the swans floating in the moat at our hotel, a private home made from a German bunker. That last one proves you can turn a sow's ear into a silk purse.
And not least of all, I deeply appreciated the fact that not one of the French people laughed in my face when I asked them if they spoke English woman. Apparently, that final s on Anglais is silent. Who knew?
But one tiny thing didn't make me happy.
Can you guess what that might be?
The French drink tiny cups of coffee. Perhaps the rest of the world drinks tiny cups of coffee as well...my coffee-drinking experience is limited to the U.S. But I was all astonishment when I beheld the itty bitty cups of coffee in Normandy.
Now, generally speaking, I understand that we Americans are vulgar in our need to super-size everything...cars, houses, hair, steaks, sodas, etc. But how in the world would anyone find satisfaction in such a tiny cup of coffee? It's baffling to this thoroughly vulgar American coffee addict.
While little cups of coffee don't compute for me, a little sprig on a birthday card makes total sense.
Life is weird, isn't it?
Or maybe it's just me.
Mercy, grace, peace, and love overflowing a very big cup,
stamps: Hero Arts, StampinUp
paper: Papertrey white
accessories: Memento markers, water spritzer