girl at large

Just like Versailles, our favorite time at Biltmore was the gardens, not the house. And like every trip of my childhood, the warm sunny cobblestone courtyard with coffee and croissant was where we spent most of our time. I can’t recall how many museums and chateaus we never did enter…well, because we didn’t! But I do remember the legs of wrought iron cafe chairs, the color of espresso foam, little white cups and tired feet and conversations with my brilliant mother in the sunshine.

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