Dreaming of France -- Soaps

Please join this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
Maybe we can all satisfy our yearnings for France, until we get there again.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about our bottles of wine that we bring home from France, but, of course, we bring home other special things too. 

When Grace came home from France in December 2011, she brought several bars of soap that she bought in the market at Aix en Provence. The soaps were 1 euro each. I loved using soap from France. She brought a variety of scents and I felt so sad when they were all gone.

Tucker went to France in March with his classmates. I begged him to buy soaps in the market, but he refused. Instead, he bought himself a $129 watch from Les Galeries Lafayette.

Then, last month, as I was cleaning out the closet, I found a bar of soap that Grace had brought back. 

What joy!

I hopped in the shower to enjoy the latest soap, but quickly called my husband to come take a photo.

As you can see, the soap scent is peach, and I loved discovering a piece of France hiding in my closet. 

I can't wait until I get to France again. I'm going to load up on fabulous soaps.

I'm also linking with Paris in July hosted by  Thyme for Tea and Bookbath.

Expensive Soap

When Grace came back from France in December, she brought an array of delicately scented soaps that she bought for 1 Euro each in the market in Aix en Provence.
We cherished each one. The olive oil soap bathing our dry winter skin. The lemon verbena with its sharp scent waking us in the mornings. The lavender soap soothing us with its calming fragrance. Those soaps are long gone now, so while walking through Trader Joe's, I stopped at the soap section and debated. The oatmeal soap was inexpensive. So was the honey soap, but I was lured in by the blue soap with bits of lavender added. $3.99 seemed a little pricey for 1 bar of soap, but I figured it was cheaper than a flight to France and visit to the market in Provence. So I bought it.

I did not anticipate the complaints from the men in my house. Little pieces of lavender left in the bathtub or that they needed to rinse off their bodies afterward apparently annoyed them. One of them even called the soap, "Hairy." So I stopped buying the lavender soap and switched to the honey or oatmeal.

Then Grace and I were at Trader Joe's yesterday, looking at soaps again. I looked longingly at the lavender soap, even picking it up to read the label "Bisous de Provence" which means kisses from Provence. Then I reluctantly replaced it on the shelf.

"I love that soap," I said.

"Me too," Grace said.

"Wait, I thought you hated it."

"No, that's just Dad and the boys. I say we get it and let them deal with it."

And we did. Now my morning shower involves the sweet scent of lavender, and an extra rinse at the end to remove the hairiness.

It's one way to bring a little of southern France to my life everyday -- without the expensive flight.