Everything looks better in pink light, don't you think?

I think I heard somewhere that the Ritz, in Paris, has its dining room illuminated by pink bulbs, with pinkish shades and everyone looks fabulous.  

They have to look good, after all, it is the Ritz.  They don't allow, you see,  unattractive people to be seated …I think the same thing is true for St. Bart's. When the boat comes into port there stands a sentry picking and choosing who can stay and who has to go back from whence they came.

Anyhow, as I was saying, pinkish light makes you look better.

Which is why I am moving to Roussillion.

Yeah, sure, it is a charming medieval village in the South of France. And yes, there are wonderful ancient sundials to see, beautiful bell towers to visit, and everywhere you turn, extraordinary views. 

But I am reasonably certain that the bus loads of tourists, who will start descending en masse in the coming months, arrive there because they know that the snapshots they take of one and other will show a youthful blush with nary an age spot or blemish in sight.

I'm moving to Roussillion.

Samuel Beckett, Andre Derain, Matisse, George Braque and Picasso, to name drop a few, all spent time in Roussillion. If anyone asks, tell them I moved there because I wanted to walk in the footsteps of those creative souls who came before me. 

And the bonus of all of this is knowing that my dewy glow is the result of my settling down here, and is not the result of a hot flash.