Who am I? Where am I?
I've thought a lot about the French me (moi) and the American me.
On the outside, I'm the same in both locations. My clothes are basically the same, as is my hair, makeup, etc. I add a coat or a scarf in Paris, flip flops in Manhattan Beach. It was raining yesterday and I wore flip flops -- it's logical -- my feet will get wet anyway.
I eat a little bit differently in France. It's mainly because of availability. Different food is available in each location and I take advantage of the local cuisine. Little green lentils in Paris, ground turkey in the US.
My daily routine is quite a bit different. In Paris, my day centers around running errands, exercise (daily, if possible), study, cultural activities and friends.
In the US, running errands in a car makes this activity almost effortless. I exercise, but don't study too much. Cultural activities are almost nil except for movies, which are hard to call "culture". Family visits take up a lot of time and then there's grooming.
In France, I avoid getting a haircut, a facial or a manicure/pedicure. There are several reasons for this, including the language barrier and cleanliness issues. So, I avoid all grooming by outside salons unless absolutely necessary. This saves me a lot of time and money.
TV in France is pretty bad, so I read a lot more books in France. Probably a book a week. Our bookshelves are overflowing, even though I've been reading my Kindle since April.
"Me" plays tennis on hard courts. "Moi" plays on red clay. This time of year, the clay courts are covered.
"Me" goes to the Spectrum and watches TV while I work out. "Moi" walks or runs around the Luxembourg Gardens, no iPOD to keep me company because there's so much to see.
"Me" buys flowers at the Hermosa Beach farmer's market on Fridays. "Moi" buys flowers at the "Monceau Fleurs" on rue Vaugirard. After much research, these are the best local flower places.
"Moi" takes the sheets to a French laundry and they come back crisp and ironed. "Me" has Elma, who irons everything including my gym clothes.
Last year on New Year's Eve, we took the 82 bus to rue Cler and bought fresh oysters for our celebration. It was cold, almost snowing outside. This year, I bought lobster and swordfish, hopefully it will be good.
The most important thing is that I'm happy in both places. There's no adjustment needed, the switch from "Me" to "Moi" happens effortlessly.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Technical Support
It's certainly easier to troubleshoot technical problems in the US. We still have our problems. Sometimes they are easy to fix and other times, one fix leads to another breakage, a small chain reaction of technical stress.
It all started yesterday. At least that's when we first knew we had a problem. The problem started several weeks ago, created by a visit from the security system technician.
During the period of extreme jet lag after arriving from Paris, I set off the alarm in our house. The security system called and noted that we had a problem because when the alarm went off the phone in our house didn't work. A guy came out to fix it.
I wasn't home but Terry reported that the guy wired the security system to the phone system in a complicated maneuver, stringing the phone wire under the carpet in the room. We tested the alarm system, the only thing that we thought was broken. We were living in a fantasy world for several weeks, unknowing that this fix had disconnected our fax. Christmas came and went along with family visits, we didn't use the fax.
Then, I was expecting an important fax that didn't come. Luckily I didn't yell at the sender, since we were at fault. I checked the fax machine, no dial tone. ICK. After a call to our phone company, it was determined that the fax machine was not even connected to the phone line. A technician was dispatched.
This morning George came. He seemed thorough and determined that yes, the fax was not plugged in. He re-worked the phone cables and everything, including the phones, the fax, the TV, internet and wifi work.
But, the story won't be finished until this afternoon. In the cascade of fixes, we still have to have the security system checked to make sure that it will call the police if we have a break-in. Because, as we all know, one guy fixes one thing, only to cause another thing not to work.
In France, everyone agrees that it is better to never touch any electronic thing that works, even if it doesn't work very well. In the US, we're more brave, I wonder if we should be.
George also confirmed one thing that we worried about. Our internet line is split or shared with several other households. He wouldn't or couldn't tell us who we share with. But, if one person on the line is doing something illegal over the internet, it is as if we all are doing it. They have no way to know who is responsible. I've heard about this in France, too, where internet piracy is so illegal that if you're caught, you're permanently cut off from using the internet. I don't know how they do it, but I have to hope that whichever neighbors share our line, they're honest.
Right now, it all works, but we'll see what happens when the security system guy tinkers with it all.
It all started yesterday. At least that's when we first knew we had a problem. The problem started several weeks ago, created by a visit from the security system technician.
During the period of extreme jet lag after arriving from Paris, I set off the alarm in our house. The security system called and noted that we had a problem because when the alarm went off the phone in our house didn't work. A guy came out to fix it.
I wasn't home but Terry reported that the guy wired the security system to the phone system in a complicated maneuver, stringing the phone wire under the carpet in the room. We tested the alarm system, the only thing that we thought was broken. We were living in a fantasy world for several weeks, unknowing that this fix had disconnected our fax. Christmas came and went along with family visits, we didn't use the fax.
Then, I was expecting an important fax that didn't come. Luckily I didn't yell at the sender, since we were at fault. I checked the fax machine, no dial tone. ICK. After a call to our phone company, it was determined that the fax machine was not even connected to the phone line. A technician was dispatched.
This morning George came. He seemed thorough and determined that yes, the fax was not plugged in. He re-worked the phone cables and everything, including the phones, the fax, the TV, internet and wifi work.
But, the story won't be finished until this afternoon. In the cascade of fixes, we still have to have the security system checked to make sure that it will call the police if we have a break-in. Because, as we all know, one guy fixes one thing, only to cause another thing not to work.
In France, everyone agrees that it is better to never touch any electronic thing that works, even if it doesn't work very well. In the US, we're more brave, I wonder if we should be.
George also confirmed one thing that we worried about. Our internet line is split or shared with several other households. He wouldn't or couldn't tell us who we share with. But, if one person on the line is doing something illegal over the internet, it is as if we all are doing it. They have no way to know who is responsible. I've heard about this in France, too, where internet piracy is so illegal that if you're caught, you're permanently cut off from using the internet. I don't know how they do it, but I have to hope that whichever neighbors share our line, they're honest.
Right now, it all works, but we'll see what happens when the security system guy tinkers with it all.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Electronic Greeting
They're starting to come in. Via email. Nice little greetings.
They're not e-cards, these are special.
People make the cards themselves. They are all different and creative. They use their own artwork and photos, write their personal greetings. I am enjoying seeing them, receiving them.
One even came with a video of a friend's dog.
I love them all, but I still prefer to get the "snail" mail Christmas cards. I guess it's just traditional for me.
They're not e-cards, these are special.
People make the cards themselves. They are all different and creative. They use their own artwork and photos, write their personal greetings. I am enjoying seeing them, receiving them.
One even came with a video of a friend's dog.
I love them all, but I still prefer to get the "snail" mail Christmas cards. I guess it's just traditional for me.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Haven't We Had Enough Renoir?
In Paris this fall, there was a large exposition at the Grand Palais of Renoir. It was very popular. We have season passes to the Grand Palais, so we went. It was very crowded with many tour groups. We made the mistake of going on a Wednesday afternoon. School is out on Wednesdays, and there were many young children's groups as well.
I think the ease of looking at Renoir's work is what makes it so popular. A lot of pink-skinned, healthy looking women, some scenes, like the one above of middle class people having fun and of course, the nudes.
My friend, Caroline, told me a long story about how well-received Renoir was during his lifetime, and how he continued to paint into old age despite extremely bad arthritis.
I tried to enjoy the exposition, but even though the paintings are beautiful, it is not my taste.
Today, I received the bi-monthly bulletin from LACMA (Los Angeles Museum of Art) of which I am also a member. Just like the Grand Palais, they have several major exhibitions every year. Note that they say "expositions" in French and "exhibitions" in English. I always mix the two up.
The cover photo for the LACMA catalog is a huge Renoir painting. Hmmm. I looked inside to learn that LACMA will have a major Renoir exhibition starting in February. This show has been organized in conjunction with le Reunion des Musees Nationaux (France) and le Musee d'Orsay. Hmmmm. Didn't I just see this?
The description of the exhibition claims that this is new. They go further to compare Renoir's later work to the Old Masters, as he moved away from his Impressionist roots.
I'll have to go, it's free with membership. Maybe I'll see it in a new light. I'm open.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
I Saw Five Movies
With all the holiday visits, I'd forgotten that I hit the movie jackpot on the flight. I saw five movies and still had time to eat two meals, read a little of my book and take a nap.
The movies are:
The September Issue
Neuilly Sa Mere
Seraphine
Le Herisson
Whatever Works
I had wanted to see them all and I liked them.
The movies are:
The September Issue
Neuilly Sa Mere
Seraphine
Le Herisson
Whatever Works
I had wanted to see them all and I liked them.
H1N1 Vaccines, Thanks, CVS
After having had a very bad virus in Paris a few years ago, I've been very careful to avoid getting sick. With all the publicity about the new H1N1 virus, I wanted to be first in line to get the shot.
This was much harder than expected. In France, we don't have a regular doctor and aren't on the French social medical system. We purchase health insurance for emergencies only. For the normal flu shots, we just go to our neighborhood pharmacy, buy two shots and give them to each other. The H1N1 shots, however, were only available at vaccination centers and only for priority patients. We are not a priority in France. So, we tried to follow all the other rules to avoid contagion, washing hands, eating properly, etc. We didn't get the flu, not even on the cramped 11-1/2 hour flight home.
It's hard to stay healthy in Paris during the cold and flu season. We take public transportation everywhere. It's crowded and people are not conscious of covering their nose or mouth for a cough or sneeze. I feel like I'm holding my breath half the time.
Back in the US, we found out that we are not in the priority categories for getting the shots either. Maybe it's a little easier but not much. So, we waited, using our hand sanitizers like crazy in public places.
Terry finally found out that if we become patients of a medical group in Manhattan Beach, they would give us the shots, so he got us each an appointment. It seemed like a small price to pay to get the shots. But, three days before Christmas, who feels like meeting a new doctor, filling out the forms, answering all the dumb questions. Not me. Plus Eileen and Aidan had been there yesterday and she reported that everyone in the waiting room was visibly sick.
Today, we got lucky. After the gym this morning, I was running errands and I remembered that the CVS pharmacy has a walk-in medical clinic. So, I decided to try it out. It took me about 10 minutes to find a parking place, but I got one and went inside. I filled out the electronic form on a computer and the minute I pushed send, a door opened and a nice woman called my name. No waiting, I guess. I got the shot and was back in my car in less than five minutes.
Later in the day, I went back with Terry who had a similar experience. No more worries about this pandemic.
I do have concerns though. Why has it taken both the US and France 5-6 months to get a vaccine out to the general public? What if this was smallpox or something more deadly? Keep the hand sanitizer handy.
This was much harder than expected. In France, we don't have a regular doctor and aren't on the French social medical system. We purchase health insurance for emergencies only. For the normal flu shots, we just go to our neighborhood pharmacy, buy two shots and give them to each other. The H1N1 shots, however, were only available at vaccination centers and only for priority patients. We are not a priority in France. So, we tried to follow all the other rules to avoid contagion, washing hands, eating properly, etc. We didn't get the flu, not even on the cramped 11-1/2 hour flight home.
It's hard to stay healthy in Paris during the cold and flu season. We take public transportation everywhere. It's crowded and people are not conscious of covering their nose or mouth for a cough or sneeze. I feel like I'm holding my breath half the time.
Back in the US, we found out that we are not in the priority categories for getting the shots either. Maybe it's a little easier but not much. So, we waited, using our hand sanitizers like crazy in public places.
Terry finally found out that if we become patients of a medical group in Manhattan Beach, they would give us the shots, so he got us each an appointment. It seemed like a small price to pay to get the shots. But, three days before Christmas, who feels like meeting a new doctor, filling out the forms, answering all the dumb questions. Not me. Plus Eileen and Aidan had been there yesterday and she reported that everyone in the waiting room was visibly sick.
Today, we got lucky. After the gym this morning, I was running errands and I remembered that the CVS pharmacy has a walk-in medical clinic. So, I decided to try it out. It took me about 10 minutes to find a parking place, but I got one and went inside. I filled out the electronic form on a computer and the minute I pushed send, a door opened and a nice woman called my name. No waiting, I guess. I got the shot and was back in my car in less than five minutes.
Later in the day, I went back with Terry who had a similar experience. No more worries about this pandemic.
I do have concerns though. Why has it taken both the US and France 5-6 months to get a vaccine out to the general public? What if this was smallpox or something more deadly? Keep the hand sanitizer handy.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A Smooth Get-Away
Planning for every known catastrophe, we check and double-check our plane and taxi reservations, we pack early, lock up our suitcases, turn off water, gas, electricity, notify friends. We can never be too careful.
There's always a new wrinkle to every trip. The taxi doesn't show up, there's a greve and traffic is completely blocked, we leave something on or open.
No exception this week. We were taking our suitcases down the elevator in the dark early morning hours. Trying to be quiet for our neighbors. Trying to make a smooth get-away.
I was stationed at the bottom on the ground floor, taking the suitcases out of the elevator and lining them up inside the door to the street. As I watched the elevator, which was supposed to be heading my way with one last load, but instead of going down, it went up. Yikes. Then, I heard an awful elevator noise like the doors were unsuccessfully opening and then closing, frantically trying to expel our suitcases.
I raced up the stairs, grabbed Terry and we went up. The suitcases were stuck in the door.
Evidently one of the suitcases tipped or rolled into the buttons for the floors. When it rolled, it also stuck in the little accordion doors inside the main door. After five frantic minutes, seeing our flight leave without us, we freed the suitcases, got out to the street and into our waiting taxi.
There's always a new wrinkle to every trip. The taxi doesn't show up, there's a greve and traffic is completely blocked, we leave something on or open.
No exception this week. We were taking our suitcases down the elevator in the dark early morning hours. Trying to be quiet for our neighbors. Trying to make a smooth get-away.
I was stationed at the bottom on the ground floor, taking the suitcases out of the elevator and lining them up inside the door to the street. As I watched the elevator, which was supposed to be heading my way with one last load, but instead of going down, it went up. Yikes. Then, I heard an awful elevator noise like the doors were unsuccessfully opening and then closing, frantically trying to expel our suitcases.
I raced up the stairs, grabbed Terry and we went up. The suitcases were stuck in the door.
Evidently one of the suitcases tipped or rolled into the buttons for the floors. When it rolled, it also stuck in the little accordion doors inside the main door. After five frantic minutes, seeing our flight leave without us, we freed the suitcases, got out to the street and into our waiting taxi.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
One Trick I Haven't Learned Yet
I'm hopeful that in 2010 I'll be able to keep track of my "stuff".
There are certain things that I don't need in one place or the other. I really don't need a winter coat in Manhattan Beach, a leather jacket and/or a thin jacket will do. Bathing suits, shorts, pareos (those things you can tie in a million different ways over a bathing suit) are exclusive to Manhattan Beach.
The "grey" area is everything else. I have a couple of role models. They make it look so easy. Terry takes literally every item of clothing back and forth. Maybe he leaves his winter coat in Paris, but the rest of it goes right back into the suitcase each time.
Another role model is Mary. She travels between the US and Paris with just a carry on bag. In this one small bag, she carries her laptop and cameras, so there's not much room for anything else, maybe a few gifts. She claims to have a duplicate wardrobe. My hero.
I've tried to duplicate a few of the key items, especially shoes which are heavy and bulky in the suitcase. Books have been virtually eliminated with the Kindle. I have identical tennis rackets in each location. So, the problem lies in the clothing area.
I do leave a lot of stuff in Paris. For example, I don't really wear suits of any kind in the US, so they stay. Jeans go back and forth, it's hard to find one pair with just the right cut, color and comfort, two would be really hard. This time of year, a few sweaters will make the trip. A skirt, just in case. Tennis clothes (not shoes) travel, workout clothes stay. I'm confused already.
When we first started doing this in 2002, I devised an inventory system. I use a spiral notebook and write down the things left behind. Then, I use another set of pages to write down things that are needed. Invariably the one thing that I'm looking for has been left off the list. I looked for a sweater for over a year. I finally found it when we moved from rue de Seine. It had fallen off the hanger and was bunched up under the shoes in the closet.
I think I've improved until the whole system breaks down. Where is that...???
There are certain things that I don't need in one place or the other. I really don't need a winter coat in Manhattan Beach, a leather jacket and/or a thin jacket will do. Bathing suits, shorts, pareos (those things you can tie in a million different ways over a bathing suit) are exclusive to Manhattan Beach.
The "grey" area is everything else. I have a couple of role models. They make it look so easy. Terry takes literally every item of clothing back and forth. Maybe he leaves his winter coat in Paris, but the rest of it goes right back into the suitcase each time.
Another role model is Mary. She travels between the US and Paris with just a carry on bag. In this one small bag, she carries her laptop and cameras, so there's not much room for anything else, maybe a few gifts. She claims to have a duplicate wardrobe. My hero.
I've tried to duplicate a few of the key items, especially shoes which are heavy and bulky in the suitcase. Books have been virtually eliminated with the Kindle. I have identical tennis rackets in each location. So, the problem lies in the clothing area.
I do leave a lot of stuff in Paris. For example, I don't really wear suits of any kind in the US, so they stay. Jeans go back and forth, it's hard to find one pair with just the right cut, color and comfort, two would be really hard. This time of year, a few sweaters will make the trip. A skirt, just in case. Tennis clothes (not shoes) travel, workout clothes stay. I'm confused already.
When we first started doing this in 2002, I devised an inventory system. I use a spiral notebook and write down the things left behind. Then, I use another set of pages to write down things that are needed. Invariably the one thing that I'm looking for has been left off the list. I looked for a sweater for over a year. I finally found it when we moved from rue de Seine. It had fallen off the hanger and was bunched up under the shoes in the closet.
I think I've improved until the whole system breaks down. Where is that...???
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Adjectives
It seems so simple, the use of adjectives.
In French, I can certainly read, write and understand adjectives. They actually slow the sentence down enough that I can grasp the basic meaning of things better. The more adjectives the better.
For me, the hard part is using adjectives while speaking. I can, of course, say that the weather is nice or the water is cold.
Adjectives get more complex than that. I've been using adjectives as much as possible. My favorites might give some indication about my life in France. The words shy, trite, guilty and rude come to mind. The "nice" adjectives are the ones they teach during the first few French lessons; beautiful, warm, interesting. Boring, aren't they?
I'll be working on adjectives for awhile, so bear with me.
In French, I can certainly read, write and understand adjectives. They actually slow the sentence down enough that I can grasp the basic meaning of things better. The more adjectives the better.
For me, the hard part is using adjectives while speaking. I can, of course, say that the weather is nice or the water is cold.
Adjectives get more complex than that. I've been using adjectives as much as possible. My favorites might give some indication about my life in France. The words shy, trite, guilty and rude come to mind. The "nice" adjectives are the ones they teach during the first few French lessons; beautiful, warm, interesting. Boring, aren't they?
I'll be working on adjectives for awhile, so bear with me.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Race Is On...Christmas Is Coming
I love the Christmas season.
It is more Christmas-y in Paris than in California, but I enjoy the season no matter where I am.
As an American, I always thought of the day after Thanksgiving as the official start of the Christmas season.
Since there is no Thanksgiving in France (except at our house) all bets are off -- I saw Christmas displays in stores before Halloween.
However, it's really started now. The store windows are decorated for Christmas not for fall. There are many promotions advertising in the name of "Noel".
The stores don't seem busier though. There's time.
While in the US, everyone has a day off on the day after Thanksgiving and the stores have sales, so it's the time to start shopping.
Personal decorating has been put off in our house. I don't think I'm ready yet. I'm not ready to have every spare surface covered with little snowmen, reindeer and Santas. I'm not ready for pine in the house either. The smell is great but the falling needles leave something to be desired.
I've got flowers in the house and all is well. There's Christmas music playing through my iPOD, all is well.
It is more Christmas-y in Paris than in California, but I enjoy the season no matter where I am.
As an American, I always thought of the day after Thanksgiving as the official start of the Christmas season.
Since there is no Thanksgiving in France (except at our house) all bets are off -- I saw Christmas displays in stores before Halloween.
However, it's really started now. The store windows are decorated for Christmas not for fall. There are many promotions advertising in the name of "Noel".
The stores don't seem busier though. There's time.
While in the US, everyone has a day off on the day after Thanksgiving and the stores have sales, so it's the time to start shopping.
Personal decorating has been put off in our house. I don't think I'm ready yet. I'm not ready to have every spare surface covered with little snowmen, reindeer and Santas. I'm not ready for pine in the house either. The smell is great but the falling needles leave something to be desired.
I've got flowers in the house and all is well. There's Christmas music playing through my iPOD, all is well.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Pumpkin Pie
After standing in the pie crust aisle at both Franprix and Monprix, I found the proper thing to line the pan for the pie. All the pie crusts are in rolls in France. They're in pie shaped metal tins in the US.
I brought the crust makings home and tried to read the directions. I even got Terry to translate. But, we couldn't figure out if the paper is supposed to be UNDER the crust or OVER the crust but under the beans or rice that are used to weight down the crust while it cooks. No idea. So, we put it OVER and cooked the crust. It didn't seem to be wrecked, so I added the pumpkin pie filling.
The filing was also somewhat challenging. The recipe was partially in grams but then deferred at the end to 1/2 pint of milk. So, I had to recite the childhood rhyme, "A pint, a pound, the world around". So, a pound is 16 oz., so a half pint is a half pound or 8 oz. It all seems to have worked out.
I didn't have all the spices called for, but I think it will taste good anyway.
The leftover crust allowed me to make a little art project for my pie. I cut a small pumpkin, some leaves and also put some cloves on top of the pumpkin pie for the fall-like effect shown above.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Carte de Sejour, 2009
Friday afternoon, I was at the local copier place, making copies of three (3) months worth of financial documents, our tax receipts, and our newly-translated medical insurance policy. I made over 400 copies. I made so many that the owner gave me the student price of 6 cents a copy. She probably just wanted to get rid of me. She doesn't take credit cards, and I hadn't been to the bank recently.
I then collated them all into three stacks. One for us and two for the fonctionnaire at the Prefecture at Cite.
We analyzed and rehearsed our positions. We weren't going away empty-handed again.
This morning, we got up early, had our coffee, showered, got dressed and hit the metro. The paperwork mandated during our previous meeting, fit nicely in one of our flight carry-on suitcases, the stack was too heavy and cumbersome to carry, even in a briefcase.
As usual, we got there too early. We tried to spot the fonctionnaire who had been so brutal with us the last time. She was there again, same guichet, #3. We kept our fingers crossed, breathing little prayers. Go on a break, go to the bathroom, take a long time with the people you're with so someone else will call our number. Our prayers were answered. After waiting for more than an hour, another woman called our number. We approached, gave her the enormous stack of papers, explained them a bit.
She told us to wait (again). More than an hour later, our number was called again. She gave us the approval, without explanation. We packed it all back into the suitcase and hit the metro. A mere three hours at the Prefecutre this morning.
Monday, November 23, 2009
France Telecom
France Telecom is a confusing conglomerate of companies. We use them, under a variety of names for our telephone, internet and television connection. They go by the names France Telecom, Orange and Wanadoo.
During 2009, there have been more than 20 suicides by employees of this company. Job stress, lack of security, and a company that is partially private and partially public, are to blame, according to the press.
What about the customers? While I haven't considered suicide, France Telecom has given me a few more grey hairs on my head.
Yesterday's example is pretty harmless, but still it took an hour of my time to figure it out and fix it.
We had a power outage while we were out in the afternoon. We turned the power back on and didn't think too much about it, until I decided to watch the evening news last night. We have power outages quite often. I normally just re-set the decoder box for the TV or the Livebox (like a modem) or both. But, last night, nothing worked. A new screen, one that I've never seen before, popped up. It said to put in my 10-digit customer number and push OK.
We've had the France Telecom system for four years. I've never been asked for my customer number before. Into the files I went, found a very thick file (as you can imagine) and went through it. I tried every number I could find, pushed them all in, nothing. Finally a screen came up on the TV that said I had to go to the Orange.fr website to find out what to do. Luckily the internet worked! I did this and it told me that the customer number I was looking for was on my "welcome" letter when I signed up for the service. I found it and pushed it in, voila, another screen came up, asking for my password. Yikes. I put in all the normal passwords that I might use, nothing.
Back to the internet. The password should be with the customer number. Yes, it was, in it went, OK. Turned off the decoder and the TV. Turned it back on. It worked. But, all my settings for English, sub-titles, etc. were lost along the way. Back to the buttons, another 15 minutes later, the TV was restored.
If we had to call France Telecom, we would have been charged, by the minute, for the call. If they had to come to our apartment, they charge a minimum of Euro 77.
Compare this with our US system, Time Warner. When we have a problem, we call. They try to fix it over the phone. No charge, of course. If that doesn't work, they come out to the house, replace whatever needs to be fixed, no charge.
During 2009, there have been more than 20 suicides by employees of this company. Job stress, lack of security, and a company that is partially private and partially public, are to blame, according to the press.
What about the customers? While I haven't considered suicide, France Telecom has given me a few more grey hairs on my head.
Yesterday's example is pretty harmless, but still it took an hour of my time to figure it out and fix it.
We had a power outage while we were out in the afternoon. We turned the power back on and didn't think too much about it, until I decided to watch the evening news last night. We have power outages quite often. I normally just re-set the decoder box for the TV or the Livebox (like a modem) or both. But, last night, nothing worked. A new screen, one that I've never seen before, popped up. It said to put in my 10-digit customer number and push OK.
We've had the France Telecom system for four years. I've never been asked for my customer number before. Into the files I went, found a very thick file (as you can imagine) and went through it. I tried every number I could find, pushed them all in, nothing. Finally a screen came up on the TV that said I had to go to the Orange.fr website to find out what to do. Luckily the internet worked! I did this and it told me that the customer number I was looking for was on my "welcome" letter when I signed up for the service. I found it and pushed it in, voila, another screen came up, asking for my password. Yikes. I put in all the normal passwords that I might use, nothing.
Back to the internet. The password should be with the customer number. Yes, it was, in it went, OK. Turned off the decoder and the TV. Turned it back on. It worked. But, all my settings for English, sub-titles, etc. were lost along the way. Back to the buttons, another 15 minutes later, the TV was restored.
If we had to call France Telecom, we would have been charged, by the minute, for the call. If they had to come to our apartment, they charge a minimum of Euro 77.
Compare this with our US system, Time Warner. When we have a problem, we call. They try to fix it over the phone. No charge, of course. If that doesn't work, they come out to the house, replace whatever needs to be fixed, no charge.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
More On Thanksgiving
I just realized a few days ago that my meal accessories are more suited to serving a french-style meal than an American meal.
I have enough plates, forks, and spoons for lots of little courses.
Thanksgiving is one big meal. All the dishes are served at once. OMG. I need a lot of serving bowls, right away.
This morning I calculated all the items on the menu and what sort of serving dish they'd need. Then I checked my inventory. Sorely lacking.
Off to the stores. It's never easy, but it's especially hard if I have to walk everywhere or take the metro or bus.
The first few stores I hit didn't seem right so I pressed on. It's Saturday and the buses don't run as often as during the week.
I've just gotten home with a bag of stuff. It's 3 PM and I've been out since about 10:30 AM. But, I think I have everything for Thanksgiving dinner except the fresh foods and the wine (that's going to be hard). I got a muffin tin (now silicon), hopefully it won't melt, several serving dishes and assorted other fun things.
So, the meal is organized. I wish I could say the same for the new stuff. I'm out of room in my kitchen to store these new additions. The cave is not that easy to store things in, but I won't need any of this until the next meal I prepare that has 7 or 8 items served simultaneously.
I have enough plates, forks, and spoons for lots of little courses.
Thanksgiving is one big meal. All the dishes are served at once. OMG. I need a lot of serving bowls, right away.
This morning I calculated all the items on the menu and what sort of serving dish they'd need. Then I checked my inventory. Sorely lacking.
Off to the stores. It's never easy, but it's especially hard if I have to walk everywhere or take the metro or bus.
The first few stores I hit didn't seem right so I pressed on. It's Saturday and the buses don't run as often as during the week.
I've just gotten home with a bag of stuff. It's 3 PM and I've been out since about 10:30 AM. But, I think I have everything for Thanksgiving dinner except the fresh foods and the wine (that's going to be hard). I got a muffin tin (now silicon), hopefully it won't melt, several serving dishes and assorted other fun things.
So, the meal is organized. I wish I could say the same for the new stuff. I'm out of room in my kitchen to store these new additions. The cave is not that easy to store things in, but I won't need any of this until the next meal I prepare that has 7 or 8 items served simultaneously.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thanksgiving To The Rescue
Thanksgiving is a week and two days from today. I've ordered the turkey, it will be great, since everything we buy from our local butcher is tasty, fresh, and top quality.
This morning, I decided that it was time to start accumulating the other components of the dinner. We've never made a true Thanksgiving dinner before in Paris. I made a list of all the things I needed, including a pan that is small enough to fit in the oven but large enough to hold the turkey.
Mid-morning, I hit the Epicerie at Le Bon Marche, thinking that I would be able to find everything in my own neighborhood. I got a cart at the door I was so sure it would be filled to the brim. As I made my way up and down the aisles, I couldn't find one thing needed for the meal. No stuffing mix, no cranberries, no pumpkin in a can to make the pies. I went through the whole store twice, thinking that I wasn't being open-minded. I left empty-handed.
I came home, had lunch and hatched a new plan. There are several stores in Paris that sell Anglophone food products. I've been to one, "The Real McCoy" on rue Grenelle and it wasn't very good. But, there is another store called, yes, "Thanksgiving" in the Marais. It's a little bit out of my normal route, but I was getting desperate. I checked the map, grabbed my cart and Terry and we hit the Marais. We found the store in an area called, Village St Paul, a charming corner near Il St Louis. The store was incredible, a veritable Thanksgiving cornucopia. I found everything I needed and more. Yes, it was expensive, but it is worth every centime.
Next stop, BHV, a short but crowded bus ride away. I found the roasting pan and it even had a rack in it.
So I'm set for Thanksgiving in Paris.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Carte de Sejour Hell
We are law-abiding citizens. We try to follow the rules, really.
We've had our "carte de sejour" (french resident permit) for a little over one year. We had difficulty getting it the first time, but that was partially our fault.
This last go-around, which started in September, has been even more taxing than normal. We can't even really complain to our friends because they think we're crazy or incompetent. Why should this be so hard? We're just renewing an existing card. They've already let us in the country for a year and nothing bad has happened.
For this year's renewal, we got an appointment, well before the expiration date of the carte. We got the letter from the Prefecture de Police with all the things we have to bring. We followed it to the letter. But, in a little box at the bottom of the page that outlines what we need to bring there's a note that says that the "fonctionnaire" (civil servant) that handles our case has authority to demand more things than the items listed on the form.
We got to our meeting, nicely dressed and early. The receptionist handed us two folders, one for each of us. We were given instructions to put copies of all relevant documents into each folder. It's kind of a stressful moment because you don't know if you have five minutes or half an hour to complete this and it requires shuffling through all the paperwork that you've brought.
We filled our folders and waited. Eventually our number came up on the screen. The screen is a digital thing in the waiting room that dings when it changes so that you look at it and then it has two sets of numbers, your "ticket" number and the cubicle number that you should go to. We went to the cubicle noted on the screen and I immediately realized that the woman fonctionnaire who had put a note in our file that caused us a lot of trouble at the border earlier this year, was going to handle our case. We are finished. She is horrible.
Needless to say, she tortured us for about 30 minutes. We retorted to the best of our abilities but finally she sent us packing with an extension on our cartes and a huge list of things that we needed to produce the next go-around. We actually had to negotiate several points, at first she asked for six (6) months of financial statements, plus 2 copies each (4 total copies). The original statements for six months are probably four inches high. It would have been impossible. We negotiated her down to three months and felt lucky to get out the door.
We staggered home, ready to sell our apartment and move to Italy. I'm sure they wouldn't hassle us this much.
So, now the appointment is next month. It took us two months to get an appointment. We're about to leave for Christmas.
Tomorrow, I'll head to the copier place to make all the copies. I hope to make one "master" and then put the "master" through the machine so that I don't have to collate them all by hand. Then, when I get home, I'll have to put all the originals into a separate place for safekeeping. I am very afraid to lose things like my birth certificate, which can't be replaced.
Then after the meeting, we'll have to re-file all the originals and put the extra copies in a safe place for next year's meeting.
Is it all worth it? At this point, we're not sure, we're very close to telling them to keep their "carte de sejour", we'll pay taxes and buy stuff in another country, a country that wants us.
We've had our "carte de sejour" (french resident permit) for a little over one year. We had difficulty getting it the first time, but that was partially our fault.
This last go-around, which started in September, has been even more taxing than normal. We can't even really complain to our friends because they think we're crazy or incompetent. Why should this be so hard? We're just renewing an existing card. They've already let us in the country for a year and nothing bad has happened.
For this year's renewal, we got an appointment, well before the expiration date of the carte. We got the letter from the Prefecture de Police with all the things we have to bring. We followed it to the letter. But, in a little box at the bottom of the page that outlines what we need to bring there's a note that says that the "fonctionnaire" (civil servant) that handles our case has authority to demand more things than the items listed on the form.
We got to our meeting, nicely dressed and early. The receptionist handed us two folders, one for each of us. We were given instructions to put copies of all relevant documents into each folder. It's kind of a stressful moment because you don't know if you have five minutes or half an hour to complete this and it requires shuffling through all the paperwork that you've brought.
We filled our folders and waited. Eventually our number came up on the screen. The screen is a digital thing in the waiting room that dings when it changes so that you look at it and then it has two sets of numbers, your "ticket" number and the cubicle number that you should go to. We went to the cubicle noted on the screen and I immediately realized that the woman fonctionnaire who had put a note in our file that caused us a lot of trouble at the border earlier this year, was going to handle our case. We are finished. She is horrible.
Needless to say, she tortured us for about 30 minutes. We retorted to the best of our abilities but finally she sent us packing with an extension on our cartes and a huge list of things that we needed to produce the next go-around. We actually had to negotiate several points, at first she asked for six (6) months of financial statements, plus 2 copies each (4 total copies). The original statements for six months are probably four inches high. It would have been impossible. We negotiated her down to three months and felt lucky to get out the door.
We staggered home, ready to sell our apartment and move to Italy. I'm sure they wouldn't hassle us this much.
So, now the appointment is next month. It took us two months to get an appointment. We're about to leave for Christmas.
Tomorrow, I'll head to the copier place to make all the copies. I hope to make one "master" and then put the "master" through the machine so that I don't have to collate them all by hand. Then, when I get home, I'll have to put all the originals into a separate place for safekeeping. I am very afraid to lose things like my birth certificate, which can't be replaced.
Then after the meeting, we'll have to re-file all the originals and put the extra copies in a safe place for next year's meeting.
Is it all worth it? At this point, we're not sure, we're very close to telling them to keep their "carte de sejour", we'll pay taxes and buy stuff in another country, a country that wants us.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Thanksgiving In Paris
November is full of Fall activities. Even though it's not on the French calendar, my favorite day in November is still Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the fourth Thursday in November, the date moves with the calendar.
It is actually more fun in France because no one else knows about it. So, the grocery stores are not packed with last-minute shoppers and the newspaper is not filled with ads for discounts on food. In the US, Thanksgiving marks the start of the "holiday" season. Everyone starts to buy more, eat more and work less it seems.
Thanksgiving is a fun holiday in France, but I have to work a little harder to celebrate. I'm not sure if a whole turkey will fit in my oven. And, if it does, I don't have a big enough pan. So, typically, I buy a couple of turkey leg/thighs and roast them.
Cranberries don't exist here in the same form and quantity as in the US. So, last year, we used Odile's apple compote as a delicious substitute. I can make some this year and I probably will. There's no stuffing for the turkey, of course. To help things a bit, I usually substitute a little pate for some of the other delicious things that we used to eat. Champagne helps, too.
So, our Thanksgiving here is a nice meal. The only thing missing is family and friends. We typically don't invite anyone over, we would have to relive the whole Pilgrim/Indian story.
The other fun activity, centered around the bountiful fall harvest happens on the third Thursday in November-- the Beaujolais Nouveau. It marks the release of the young 2009 red wine. Even though it seems that no one really likes the taste of this wine very much, it's a tradition which is marked with dinners to honor the day.
We try to buy a bottle and to celebrate with a fun activity of some kind. Last year we went to our tennis club with friends for dinner. It was fun, but neither the wine nor the dinner were memorable, so we'll have to find something else to do.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Countdown....
10,9,8,7,6..
It's one month until we leave Paris. We might be gone for awhile, that's unusual. We're not happy.
So, we now have one month to do all the things that we know/want to do/are on the plan, but haven't done.
This includes:
Entertain friends
See all temporary museum expositions
Clean the apartment thoroughly (ICK)
Visit all the restaurants that we have on our list (impossible)
Take advantage of various tours, exhibits, etc.
Oh My!
We will pack more into one month than you can imagine. With a smile on our faces!
It's one month until we leave Paris. We might be gone for awhile, that's unusual. We're not happy.
So, we now have one month to do all the things that we know/want to do/are on the plan, but haven't done.
This includes:
Entertain friends
See all temporary museum expositions
Clean the apartment thoroughly (ICK)
Visit all the restaurants that we have on our list (impossible)
Take advantage of various tours, exhibits, etc.
Oh My!
We will pack more into one month than you can imagine. With a smile on our faces!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Fall is Fabulous
Before all the leaves are gone, I had to shoot some photos today. I can see every color that nature provides, sometimes all on the same tree.
I don't know if it's the color or the cold air, but it takes my breath away. Enjoy them while they're here.
Monday, November 2, 2009
My Day...
It's been both a good and a difficult day, a normal day in Paris.
I had a great walk in the Luxembourg with sunny skies and cold, brisk air. All the leaves have gotten the message and are falling. The gardeners can't keep up. And it rained all day yesterday so a lot of the leaves are crushed and wet. Slippery!
Next I had chores to do.
Xeroxing for WICE involves dealing with the local copier place. I've always had good luck there until today. But today, the machine kept jamming. I didn't know the word for jammed!!! My papers were stuck in the machine, so there was no way out. In my favor, the machine had a little screen that said, "papier coincé", Ah Ha! I can figure this out. I told the woman who works there, she ignored me. Not a big surprise.
So, I continued to break into her conversation with another woman, telling her I was in a hurry, her machine was broken and my papers were inside! It's her fault. Really!!!?? Not in her world. Eventually she came over and unjammed it. But, the next copy caused another jam. So, I told her to get my original out, I was changing machines.
It goes on from here but suffice it to say, we had words when she tried to charge me for all the jammed up pages as well as someone else's copies that she made during the chaos.
My next stop (I AM BRAVE, aren't I?) was the bank. I needed cash, put my card in the machine, asked for the amount I wanted and out came only Euro 50 notes!!! This is about US $75 in each note, not exactly easy for my small purchases in cash. So, inside the bank I went, demanding 20 notes. I was given 2 20's and 1 10 and the rest of my 50's back. Oh well. Why would I expect that the cash machine would give me 20's after getting only 20's in the US with no hope of any other denomination.
After all this, my day ended on a good note, at Odile's apartment. She is always happy and energetic and today was no exception. She was in the middle of making crepes for Terry using her new pan. Of course, I had to have one! We talked, she cooked, the apartment was warm, the sun came out. She gave me a bunch of crepes to take home to Terry. He loves her crepes.
So, all in all, a good day, a normal day in Paris.
I had a great walk in the Luxembourg with sunny skies and cold, brisk air. All the leaves have gotten the message and are falling. The gardeners can't keep up. And it rained all day yesterday so a lot of the leaves are crushed and wet. Slippery!
Next I had chores to do.
Xeroxing for WICE involves dealing with the local copier place. I've always had good luck there until today. But today, the machine kept jamming. I didn't know the word for jammed!!! My papers were stuck in the machine, so there was no way out. In my favor, the machine had a little screen that said, "papier coincé", Ah Ha! I can figure this out. I told the woman who works there, she ignored me. Not a big surprise.
So, I continued to break into her conversation with another woman, telling her I was in a hurry, her machine was broken and my papers were inside! It's her fault. Really!!!?? Not in her world. Eventually she came over and unjammed it. But, the next copy caused another jam. So, I told her to get my original out, I was changing machines.
It goes on from here but suffice it to say, we had words when she tried to charge me for all the jammed up pages as well as someone else's copies that she made during the chaos.
My next stop (I AM BRAVE, aren't I?) was the bank. I needed cash, put my card in the machine, asked for the amount I wanted and out came only Euro 50 notes!!! This is about US $75 in each note, not exactly easy for my small purchases in cash. So, inside the bank I went, demanding 20 notes. I was given 2 20's and 1 10 and the rest of my 50's back. Oh well. Why would I expect that the cash machine would give me 20's after getting only 20's in the US with no hope of any other denomination.
After all this, my day ended on a good note, at Odile's apartment. She is always happy and energetic and today was no exception. She was in the middle of making crepes for Terry using her new pan. Of course, I had to have one! We talked, she cooked, the apartment was warm, the sun came out. She gave me a bunch of crepes to take home to Terry. He loves her crepes.
So, all in all, a good day, a normal day in Paris.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
"Tech Girl" has fallen behind the times
I haven't thought much about my iPHONE or iPOD since I've been in Paris. They are there when I need them, I charge them, that's it.
I started out today with one simple thing -- I added a CD (french language lessons) onto my computer and wanted to put it on both the iPOD and the iPHONE.
Being sensible, I bring only one cord for all the Apple things, so I had to go on a big search to find the right cable for this activity. Found it, plugged it in, transferred the CD to the iPOD quickly and easily.
Now for the iPHONE. There is a more elaborate set up to do this on the iPHONE and there were some photos on the iPHONE that weren't on my computer. The computer knew it and insisted that I download them. Then, the computer figured out that the iPHONE needed a software update. OK, I did that. It took a long time.
Now, I still had to download the CD. I clicked on the music I wanted to add and it is now humming away, putting the music on my iPHONE.
While I was doing all this, I decided to look at the iTUNES music store. Big mistake. I did not know that I could download TV shows from the US into my iPHONE iPOD or computer. They don't cost very much, either. I decided I needed a little "cooling off" period before I start adding TV shows, so I'm blogging.
But, I'll be back to iTUNES very soon, I'm afraid.
While I realize that I am not very current on this part of the computer world, I should be grateful for my innocence. Now I will be watching US TV shows instead of reading a good book, studying french or visiting with other people.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Cooking With Cecile
We spent the afternoon yesterday in Cecile's kitchen. It's a remarkable place. Quite big for Paris and very welcoming and charming. Not at all like a kitchen in the US. The floor is old tile, everything is functional. The spices are all within reach, everything works perfectly even though it's not new. No granite here, just great cooking.
There is a big table in the middle of the room, good for eating or, in our case, for assembling b'stilla. Cecile teaches us Moroccan and french cooking.
Everyone that participates enjoys the activities. We all know how to cook and really just come to see the new preparation and enjoy a lovely October afternoon in a warm kitchen.
Here's the work in progress. It took over three hours to make this dish and Cecile was already cooking when we arrived.
Here is the finished product. We all had a wonderful dinner last night.
Monday, October 12, 2009
"Oh, Halloween"...
“Oh”, Nicole sneered, "Halloween. That’s an American holiday." Bien sur, Nicole.
She continued, “There is a store here in Paris that has the paper cut-outs with the faces…”
“Thank you” I replied, not at all what I was really thinking, with my half-smile plastered on my face.
I fixed my bangs at the same time, in a natural swoop with my right hand. They’d gotten a little damp on the walk from the metro so they needed taming.
I’m not at all embarrassed about my passion for Halloween decorations. It’s not excessive, in fact, it’s quite subtle here in France, mainly due to lack of surfaces to put the decorations on and lack of “material”.
I’ve had a hard time finding consistent pumpkins. Every year, I eventually find something that represents my idea of Halloween, but it’s not without a cost. I traverse the city, looking at the plant market at Cite, various florists, and other shops that are “sympa”. Every year, I find the pumpkins at a new place and the previous years’ places have let me down.
I can deal with this, I’m flexible.
I have my go-to items for Halloween. The chestnuts, gathered year after year in the Luxembourg Gardens. The great Halloween quilt that my Mom gave me, a few other American decorations, small and discrete, but important to me.
Some of the Halloween items stick around through Thanksgiving, another “weird” holiday in France, but important to ME/MOI.
The little pumpkins and gourds, the chestnuts, maybe some beautiful brown leaves, they will grace my apartment until December 1, when I have to put up the Christmas stuff. Not nearly as fun, in my opinion.
So, back to Nicole and the dinner party last night. She is very nice and not at all stuffy, but I could tell that she doesn’t understand anything about the “fun” of Halloween. It isn’t necessarily scary, pagan or for the young. It’s fanciful, and, like the harvest, a celebration of life.
It will never catch on here in France as anything more than a day for young people, eastern European tourists and the manufacturers of candy.
However, there is a two-week school holiday coinciding every year with Halloween, called Toussaint which is the day after Halloween, November 1, luckily on a weekend this year so I won't be driven crazy by store closures and holiday transportation schedules.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
The Painting Is Done
The painters have finished, cleaned up and left. Order has been restored.
My Halloween decorations are up, including the three pumpkins I found yesterday afternoon on the way to WICE. In typical french fashion, they "wrapped" the pumpkins in a pretty orange paper bag.
I like to start decorating for the fall holidays around the first of October, but the painting project got in the way.
Some of the decorations are clearly for Halloween, so they don't get to hang around the house for very long this year, but the pumpkins, the chestnuts and the candles will stick around until Thanksgiving. I might even be able to find a gourd or two. Actually, I found some, but didn't buy them at the time because I wanted pumpkins.
My Halloween decorations are up, including the three pumpkins I found yesterday afternoon on the way to WICE. In typical french fashion, they "wrapped" the pumpkins in a pretty orange paper bag.
I like to start decorating for the fall holidays around the first of October, but the painting project got in the way.
Some of the decorations are clearly for Halloween, so they don't get to hang around the house for very long this year, but the pumpkins, the chestnuts and the candles will stick around until Thanksgiving. I might even be able to find a gourd or two. Actually, I found some, but didn't buy them at the time because I wanted pumpkins.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Weather
Since I'm from Southern California, I'm ecstatic whenever there is "weather".
I don't really like boring weather -- clouds, fog, etc., I like real weather -- something dramatic.
Tonight, it's Halloween on October 7th. It was mild today, warm and cloudy, humid. Threatening rain, but not a huge threat.
Dinnertime rolled around and we heard the first clap of thunder, then the serious rain started pounding down. The lightening, the thunder, the rain. People running down the street, this is not normal.
It's continuing, in waves. The lights are flickering, luckily the internet is still working.
I LOVE weather!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Gourmet Magazine Is Closing
For me, memories are made when I associate a thing with a time or place.
I can remember exactly where I was (in Mrs. Mitch's class) when we learned that JFK had been killed. I remember the day that Elvis died.
Today, I will remember as a rainy morning in Paris, the day that I was shocked to learn that "Gourmet" magazine is closing.
To me, it seemed like an institution. It had been published for 68 years, longer than I've been alive. In the last year, we've seen so many institutions fail -- Lehman Brothers, Merrill Lynch, Washington Mutual (my ex-bank). This is just as shocking.
My mother was an innovative cook. I was a picky eater. As a child, even though many of the dishes that came out of the magazine were not basic enough for me, I was aware of the beauty and elegance of the magazine.
As a young adult, even when I didn't have much extra money, I found enough to subscribe to Gourmet. I saved back issues for years, not willing to tear the recipes out. Eventually, I started removing the recipes and articles I wanted to save and putting them in binders.
What I will miss most isn't the recipes, though. It's the beauty of the photos and the well-written articles, always taking me to a different wonderful place.
So, my concept of Gourmet will live on, a reminder of the beautiful things in life, childhood memories and dreams.
The Painter
OMG
The painter has terrible BO.
Body Odor.
ICK.
It's raining but I'm opening the windows anyway.
The painter has terrible BO.
Body Odor.
ICK.
It's raining but I'm opening the windows anyway.
Let The Painting Begin...
We have cracks in many of the walls. The whole place was painted 3-1/2 years ago before we moved in. The cracks started showing up within six months. Many of them continue to grow. One, in particular, has large scales peeling and buckling off the wall. We've been told that the building is about 200 years old and the support beams for the building are wood. When the building shifts, the plaster and paint on the walls crack. The only hope for this is to repair the cracks and cover the walls with fabric or fiberglass, sand it all, then repaint.
We've tried to put this project off for the obvious reasons -- inconvenience and cost, but finally Terry couldn't handle it for another day.
We got bids from painters, selected one, a guy we've used for a lot of other projects, Timothy, and the work started this morning.
Of course, it's been sunny and warm since we arrived in early September but today it is raining and dark. We had to remove the permanent light fixtures and put all our floor lamps into the room to get enough light for the painters to see what they are doing. I guess that if it keeps raining, which it's scheduled to do, the whole project will take longer, as each step has to dry before the next step can start.
This morning, Terry and I got up early and moved all the furniture to the far corners of the apartment, rolled up the rugs, consolidated all the items normally on tables, onto a bookshelf so that it can all be covered. I took everything off the kitchen counters and put it elsewhere, since dust will be all over.
We've also made several trips to the cave this morning, to get the old paint to match, get drop cloths and a ladder. Our original ladder was stolen (or expropriated) out of the cave at rue de Seine, so this is a new ladder. We've guarded it carefully this time.
As soon as they break for lunch, I'll take a photo fo the dismantled apartment so that I can look at it and feel sorry for myself. I am worried that my week is ruined.
Hopefully nothing bad will happen. We've made it clear to the workers that they can't touch the Livebox or any of the cables leading to it. After a minor France Telecom disaster earlier this year, we don't want to wreck our internet connection, it will probably be our only source of comfort this week since the TV is covered and there are no chairs or couches that we can sit on in the front of the apartment.
We've tried to put this project off for the obvious reasons -- inconvenience and cost, but finally Terry couldn't handle it for another day.
We got bids from painters, selected one, a guy we've used for a lot of other projects, Timothy, and the work started this morning.
Of course, it's been sunny and warm since we arrived in early September but today it is raining and dark. We had to remove the permanent light fixtures and put all our floor lamps into the room to get enough light for the painters to see what they are doing. I guess that if it keeps raining, which it's scheduled to do, the whole project will take longer, as each step has to dry before the next step can start.
This morning, Terry and I got up early and moved all the furniture to the far corners of the apartment, rolled up the rugs, consolidated all the items normally on tables, onto a bookshelf so that it can all be covered. I took everything off the kitchen counters and put it elsewhere, since dust will be all over.
We've also made several trips to the cave this morning, to get the old paint to match, get drop cloths and a ladder. Our original ladder was stolen (or expropriated) out of the cave at rue de Seine, so this is a new ladder. We've guarded it carefully this time.
As soon as they break for lunch, I'll take a photo fo the dismantled apartment so that I can look at it and feel sorry for myself. I am worried that my week is ruined.
Hopefully nothing bad will happen. We've made it clear to the workers that they can't touch the Livebox or any of the cables leading to it. After a minor France Telecom disaster earlier this year, we don't want to wreck our internet connection, it will probably be our only source of comfort this week since the TV is covered and there are no chairs or couches that we can sit on in the front of the apartment.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
The Grocery Stores of Paris
I feel like I spend more time in the grocery store when I'm in Paris. This is probably because I can only buy what I can carry in my wheeled cart, so I have to go to the grocery store more often.
The stores I go to in Paris are smaller, but I still have to go up and down every aisle. The aisles are so narrow that you can't pass another person without excusing yourself, "Par-DON".
Even though the stores are small, I can find everything I need most of the time, and often find interesting and delicious things that I could never find in a US store (a dozen quail eggs in the same area with the chicken eggs).
There are a few things that I don't think I'll ever get used to about Paris grocery stores, though. In the US, the only time I see the shelves being stocked is when I go in the early morning hours (5 AM) when I have jet lag after our return from Paris.
In Paris, the workers join the shoppers, often during peak shopping times (mid-morning, early evening). We shoppers are taking the food off the shelf, to buy it, and the workers are refilling the empty spots on the shelves. The problem is that the workers and their boxes of food take up precious aisle space.
Yesterday I was in the BIG Franprix on rue de Rennes at 10AM and every aisle was filled with boxes and workers. Why can't they do this at 5 AM?
It was chaos. No one could pass the men on ladders and their stacks of boxes. We had to go around the aisle and approach the shelves from the other direction. Several jars had been dropped on the floor and had broken. Spaghetti sauce mixed with glass was all over one aisle. I promptly slid on it until the glass shards acted as brakes and I stopped.
In the US, this would have been an automatic lawsuit. Not something I agree with or am proud of.
As I continued to shop I noticed that the spill hadn't been cleaned up for at least 10-15 minutes, the other shoppers avoiding it, sliding on it or commenting.
The other thing that happens a lot in grocery stores in Paris is change.
One store I frequent has just changed its name from Champion to Carrefour. Maybe Carrefour bought it. The only other changes I noticed in this store were that there were more brightly colored, modern looking signs in the store and now, if you need a plastic bag, it costs 3 cents for each bag.
Every store I use, in both the US and in Paris has an automatic and complete reorganization about every six months. Just when I learn where everything is, they change it. The Franprix was in the middle of a re-org yesterday.
This store has a mezzanine. You have to go up a double flight of stairs to get to this part of the store and you can't take your cart with you. The mezzanine used to house the household items, paper towels, cleaning products, pet food, deodorant. Now, they've changed it and put many of the daily necessities of life on this floor, and at the back of the store. After searching every shelf for coffee, I found it on the mezzanine, right next to the spot where they keep the assortment of pots and pans that they sell.
In the US, in my neighborhood Ralphs, they reorganized the store and put all the snack food, the deli cases, the alcohol in the front of the store. This must be what most people buy. Of course, the produce (fruit and veggies) are right next to the snack aisle, in case someone feels guilty when they buy the beer and chips.
In Paris, the frozen food section is almost always in the front. I don't think this was the case five years ago, things are changing.
We also have delivery service from grocery stores in Paris. This is good if you can get to the store in the morning and be available in the afternoon for the delivery. Or, we can buy food via the websites of the major grocery stores. They don't have as much "stuff" (like the quail eggs) but you can get the basics. This is my go-to activity when we arrive in Paris. I order the food the week before we leave for delivery the evening of the arrival day. I try to leave enough time for travel delays and have been pleasantly surprised by the ease of this system.
The stores I go to in Paris are smaller, but I still have to go up and down every aisle. The aisles are so narrow that you can't pass another person without excusing yourself, "Par-DON".
Even though the stores are small, I can find everything I need most of the time, and often find interesting and delicious things that I could never find in a US store (a dozen quail eggs in the same area with the chicken eggs).
There are a few things that I don't think I'll ever get used to about Paris grocery stores, though. In the US, the only time I see the shelves being stocked is when I go in the early morning hours (5 AM) when I have jet lag after our return from Paris.
In Paris, the workers join the shoppers, often during peak shopping times (mid-morning, early evening). We shoppers are taking the food off the shelf, to buy it, and the workers are refilling the empty spots on the shelves. The problem is that the workers and their boxes of food take up precious aisle space.
Yesterday I was in the BIG Franprix on rue de Rennes at 10AM and every aisle was filled with boxes and workers. Why can't they do this at 5 AM?
It was chaos. No one could pass the men on ladders and their stacks of boxes. We had to go around the aisle and approach the shelves from the other direction. Several jars had been dropped on the floor and had broken. Spaghetti sauce mixed with glass was all over one aisle. I promptly slid on it until the glass shards acted as brakes and I stopped.
In the US, this would have been an automatic lawsuit. Not something I agree with or am proud of.
As I continued to shop I noticed that the spill hadn't been cleaned up for at least 10-15 minutes, the other shoppers avoiding it, sliding on it or commenting.
The other thing that happens a lot in grocery stores in Paris is change.
One store I frequent has just changed its name from Champion to Carrefour. Maybe Carrefour bought it. The only other changes I noticed in this store were that there were more brightly colored, modern looking signs in the store and now, if you need a plastic bag, it costs 3 cents for each bag.
Every store I use, in both the US and in Paris has an automatic and complete reorganization about every six months. Just when I learn where everything is, they change it. The Franprix was in the middle of a re-org yesterday.
This store has a mezzanine. You have to go up a double flight of stairs to get to this part of the store and you can't take your cart with you. The mezzanine used to house the household items, paper towels, cleaning products, pet food, deodorant. Now, they've changed it and put many of the daily necessities of life on this floor, and at the back of the store. After searching every shelf for coffee, I found it on the mezzanine, right next to the spot where they keep the assortment of pots and pans that they sell.
In the US, in my neighborhood Ralphs, they reorganized the store and put all the snack food, the deli cases, the alcohol in the front of the store. This must be what most people buy. Of course, the produce (fruit and veggies) are right next to the snack aisle, in case someone feels guilty when they buy the beer and chips.
In Paris, the frozen food section is almost always in the front. I don't think this was the case five years ago, things are changing.
We also have delivery service from grocery stores in Paris. This is good if you can get to the store in the morning and be available in the afternoon for the delivery. Or, we can buy food via the websites of the major grocery stores. They don't have as much "stuff" (like the quail eggs) but you can get the basics. This is my go-to activity when we arrive in Paris. I order the food the week before we leave for delivery the evening of the arrival day. I try to leave enough time for travel delays and have been pleasantly surprised by the ease of this system.
Friday, September 25, 2009
France Doesn't Make It Easy
A lot of things are happening right now that are not fun. We're here in France to have fun. France isn't making it very easy.
First the Euro is very high against the dollar, making our expenses skyrocket. This isn't France's fault. The rest of this stuff is.
Our Taxe Fonciere (property tax) bill arrived about a week ago. It was increased by 28% from last year. While the average increase, we've heard, is 30%, it still isn't a good sign and in combination with the cost of the Euro, the increase is even larger for us.
Our neighbors are inconsiderate. We've had an almost constant problem with the neighbors below us. First they installed a flood light on their kitchen window that pointed up into our apartment. It took several letters (some threatening and a verbal show-down) before the light was turned off. It is still turned on from time to time when they think we're not around. They also have a terrible habit of opening the windows and playing the piano right at our dinner time. They play the same thing over and over and over. Not even a complete song. Now, a man, who I think is just visiting, has started playing Barry Manilow-type songs and singing off-key in French accented-english, also during the dinner hour.
Another neighbor was feeding the pigeons. There were at least 10 pigeons in our courtyard at all times while she was doing this. Of course, they left behind a lot of bird poop to remind us of this neighbor's activities.
Then, there's the threat of H1N1. We have no idea how to get a flu shot for this or if it will even be made available to us. It would seem that if there's a shortage of the vaccine, we will be very far down the list of possible recipients. With traveling on public transportation all the time, we will have a hard time avoiding the flu if it becomes rampant in Paris.
Last, but not least, there's the Carte de Sejour issue. We just had our meeting and got the same "fonctionnaire" that denied our card last time. She pulled every form of technicality, many of which she had to retract. We still did not get a complete sign off and we would have if we'd had another person.
All I want to do is have fun, enjoy Paris, learn to speak better French. I don't want any of these hassles. Perhaps an attitude adjustment is needed.
First the Euro is very high against the dollar, making our expenses skyrocket. This isn't France's fault. The rest of this stuff is.
Our Taxe Fonciere (property tax) bill arrived about a week ago. It was increased by 28% from last year. While the average increase, we've heard, is 30%, it still isn't a good sign and in combination with the cost of the Euro, the increase is even larger for us.
Our neighbors are inconsiderate. We've had an almost constant problem with the neighbors below us. First they installed a flood light on their kitchen window that pointed up into our apartment. It took several letters (some threatening and a verbal show-down) before the light was turned off. It is still turned on from time to time when they think we're not around. They also have a terrible habit of opening the windows and playing the piano right at our dinner time. They play the same thing over and over and over. Not even a complete song. Now, a man, who I think is just visiting, has started playing Barry Manilow-type songs and singing off-key in French accented-english, also during the dinner hour.
Another neighbor was feeding the pigeons. There were at least 10 pigeons in our courtyard at all times while she was doing this. Of course, they left behind a lot of bird poop to remind us of this neighbor's activities.
Then, there's the threat of H1N1. We have no idea how to get a flu shot for this or if it will even be made available to us. It would seem that if there's a shortage of the vaccine, we will be very far down the list of possible recipients. With traveling on public transportation all the time, we will have a hard time avoiding the flu if it becomes rampant in Paris.
Last, but not least, there's the Carte de Sejour issue. We just had our meeting and got the same "fonctionnaire" that denied our card last time. She pulled every form of technicality, many of which she had to retract. We still did not get a complete sign off and we would have if we'd had another person.
All I want to do is have fun, enjoy Paris, learn to speak better French. I don't want any of these hassles. Perhaps an attitude adjustment is needed.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Someone Is Feeding The Pigeons
Few things are as bad as pigeons. Flying rats. After one built a nest in my window box last summer, smashing and killing all my plants, I have an even more negative attitude toward them.
I recently noticed that the pigeon population in our courtyard was increasing. There were always a few hanging around it seemed. They were on our window ledges and milling around outside all the time. Then, I noticed the bread crumbs on the ground.
SOMEONE IS FEEDING THE PIGEONS
Terry went down to the courtyard and hosed the bread crumbs away. The next day there was rice on the ground in the same spot. Lots of rice. Rice is insidious because it sticks in the little cracks in the cobblestones, making it almost impossible to get rid of. He hosed it off again.
More and more of our neighbors were now noticing the pigeons and the pigeon food. Everyone was furious, but no one would do anything.
Finally this afternoon, we spotted the woman who has been doing it. A "locataire" (renter) of course. What is she thinking? Pigeons aren't starving in central Paris, in fact they're happily reproducing at an astonishing rate. Faster than some ethic groups.
So, Terry went to talk to her. She wouldn't open her door, so he had to explain through the door that we don't allow feeding pigeons in the building. In fact, the food could also attract rats. She agreed not to do it any more. We'll see.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Smokers
The "smokers" live in the building across the street from us. We only know this couple because they lean out their window, always together, and smoke.
We see them night and day, in all kinds of weather.
It's funny that, even though they both smoke, they still don't want the smoke inside their apartment.
They don't know that the smoke travels up and into other people's apartments. We have several windows that remain closed a good deal of the time because the people below us smoke out these windows.
We've seen our neighbors, the smokers, since before we moved into this apartment. They are always out there. They seem to be looking right into our windows, too. I worry that they can see past our sheer drapes. I was just changing clothes when I looked out the window and there they were, looking back. ICK! Are they watching? Or are they just smoking?
We see them night and day, in all kinds of weather.
It's funny that, even though they both smoke, they still don't want the smoke inside their apartment.
They don't know that the smoke travels up and into other people's apartments. We have several windows that remain closed a good deal of the time because the people below us smoke out these windows.
We've seen our neighbors, the smokers, since before we moved into this apartment. They are always out there. They seem to be looking right into our windows, too. I worry that they can see past our sheer drapes. I was just changing clothes when I looked out the window and there they were, looking back. ICK! Are they watching? Or are they just smoking?
Now La Poste Is On Strike
We needed to do some business at the post office (La Poste) this morning. We arrived, mid-morning and the doors were open but the lights were out. There was a line, so except for the lights, everything seemed normal.
Standing in line, trying to figure out why the lights were off, it suddenly dawned on me that I'd read something about La Poste going on strike.
In the US, there is a small movement to leave lights off, or dim, in public places. Before we left, on my semi-annual shopping (pre-Paris), our local Nordstrom was almost pitch black in the middle of the day. When I asked, the clerk said that it was an attempt to be more "green". I am skeptical about this answer.
Everyone at La Poste was waiting patiently in the dark. There was one clerk, but she was working on the customer's side of the guichet. When we got to the front of the line, she politely explained that she couldn't help us with anything that required money. If we wanted to buy something, we had to use the machine installed in the wall. But, she did help us to understand that our outbound mail would be delayed, perhaps for a long time. The computers weren't on, the mailman wouldn't be coming by today to pick up the mail or drop any off. What normally takes 5-7 days might take twice this long, since even if the workers come back from the strike, there will be an accumulation of mail...
I haven't done a lot of research about the postal workers' issues, but from what I see, they are protesting against privatisation. But, the French government denies that plans are in the works to make La Poste partially or completely private.
While we rely less and less on postal services, both in the US and in France, there are some things that seem better if they come by mail. Birthday cards are much better when they are waiting in your mailbox, pretty envelope and personally written. Bills are nice to get in the mail. You don't forget a piece of paper as easily as a little notice in the email.
But don't the postal workers know that if a strike continues, we could get used to being without them and they will all be out of jobs, whether they are a public or a private entity.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Chestnuts
Every fall, like a crazy person, I walk around the Luxembourg Gardens looking toward the ground. I'm on a mission. I'm harvesting chestnuts for my fall decorations.
I do this every year and every year I get just as excited about my "finds". It's like an adult version of an Easter Egg hunt.
I'm picky. I reject all but the most perfect or interesting specimens. I prefer the new, shiny ones with smooth dark skins.
Day after day, new ones appear on the ground. Yesterday, I heard a crack and a pod fell right in front of me and broke open, exposing the most beautiful new nut. The outside pods are large, green, spiny things. Impenetrable. But, when the time is right, they fall to the ground with extreme force (maybe they're heavy) and break open.
I don't know why I enjoy this so much, but I do. I save the previous year's chestnuts and add a few to the collection every year. I have about 20 or 30. They will grace my Halloween decorations and then will move perfectly into the Thanksgiving/Fall (no Thanksgiving in France, except at our house) displays.
The Ampoule
Every time I return to Paris, I get blisters on my feet.
During the summer in California, I wear either sandals or my tennis shoes (with socks). My feet get used to being free and comfortable, with nothing rubbing on them.
When I return in the fall, I put on shoes immediately. Walking around town in sandals is not smart. First it is dirty and second it seems like I could smash my nearly bare toes on something. But, it's still pretty warm here so I don't need socks. Warm weather and no socks combine for an automatic blister or blisters. I never learn.
This time, I got a big blister on a walk in the Luxembourg Gardens. The blister is small and it's all bandaged up. But, there's still time to get more.
The translation for the word "blister" in french is ampoule. It is a feminine noun. I like this word because it has two definitions in one. It means both blister and light bulb. Makes sense to me. I wish there were more words like this in french.
During the summer in California, I wear either sandals or my tennis shoes (with socks). My feet get used to being free and comfortable, with nothing rubbing on them.
When I return in the fall, I put on shoes immediately. Walking around town in sandals is not smart. First it is dirty and second it seems like I could smash my nearly bare toes on something. But, it's still pretty warm here so I don't need socks. Warm weather and no socks combine for an automatic blister or blisters. I never learn.
This time, I got a big blister on a walk in the Luxembourg Gardens. The blister is small and it's all bandaged up. But, there's still time to get more.
The translation for the word "blister" in french is ampoule. It is a feminine noun. I like this word because it has two definitions in one. It means both blister and light bulb. Makes sense to me. I wish there were more words like this in french.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I'm Usually More Sensitive
I dislike the typical "ugly American" questions I sometimes get from people in the US.
Examples include:
"What Do You Do There?"
"Do You Like French Wine?" (Implied that this person doesn't)
"Have You Been To The Moulin Rouge, It's Fabulous..."
"Have You Seen The Mona Lisa"
I think you get the idea.
But last night, I did this to someone else. The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it. The woman didn't take offense at the question, and she answered the question. Nonetheless, I feel really dumb.
She and her husband have a second home in Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. They spend a month or two at a stretch there. I've been to Mexico many times and always worry about getting "tourista" although I've never been sick there.
The question was, "Do you grocery shop and cook in PV?" Dah! How could they possibly eat every meal in a restaurant for two months? And, I'm sure it's just as easy, if not easier to get sick from a restaurant than from home-cooked food.
The woman was very nice and poised and explained what she did -- a combination of cooking at home and eating out.
So much for the worldly me, that self-image has been shattered.
Examples include:
"What Do You Do There?"
"Do You Like French Wine?" (Implied that this person doesn't)
"Have You Been To The Moulin Rouge, It's Fabulous..."
"Have You Seen The Mona Lisa"
I think you get the idea.
But last night, I did this to someone else. The minute it came out of my mouth, I regretted it. The woman didn't take offense at the question, and she answered the question. Nonetheless, I feel really dumb.
She and her husband have a second home in Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. They spend a month or two at a stretch there. I've been to Mexico many times and always worry about getting "tourista" although I've never been sick there.
The question was, "Do you grocery shop and cook in PV?" Dah! How could they possibly eat every meal in a restaurant for two months? And, I'm sure it's just as easy, if not easier to get sick from a restaurant than from home-cooked food.
The woman was very nice and poised and explained what she did -- a combination of cooking at home and eating out.
So much for the worldly me, that self-image has been shattered.
The Mismatches
Before a departure in either direction, we have a day or two of cleaning out.
This involves mostly the refrigerator and the closet.
About 10 days before we leave, I stop buying all perishable food that we won't need immediately. I usually stop grocery shopping almost completely. For a few days, it's OK, we have everything we need.
As the departure date gets closer, things get a little bleaker. We have lettuce but no tomatoes. Or worse, celery but no tomatoes, lettuce or peanut butter. I have to get creative to use up the celery and it usually ends up in some mismatched dish.
Last night we had guests over for cocktails. We had pita chips but when I checked the pantry, there were only four Triscuits left in the bottom of the box. I didn't want to see the guests fighting, so I only served the pita chips. The mismatch here was the herbed goat cheese on pita chips. Luckily we haven't run out of wine yet.
I always end up throwing something away, which is sad. This time, I think it's going to be lettuce. I tried to calculate the number of days left vs. the amount of lettuce needed per day, but we must have skipped a planned salad or two, I have three heads of romaine lettuce left.
If we have eggs left, I hard boil them and Terry eats them in-flight.
Sometimes I freeze things. When we get home after a long flight, there's a surprise waiting in the freezer. Last time, I'd made spaghetti and had leftovers which I froze. An easy four minutes in the microwave and we had dinner.
In Paris, it's a little harder to do this because we have an electrical ghost. For no reason, many times when we're not even home, the electricity in one of the two electrical boxes shuts off. Unfortunately, it's the box that the refrigerator is hooked up to, so I've been scared to freeze things in Paris and leave them. We've tried to get this problem fixed but we haven't been able to find the source of the problem.
So, in Paris, I am very careful to try to get rid of all the perishable food. We normally have so little food left that we eat out the night before we leave. Once, though, we ended up with a whole camembert. We couldn't bear to throw it out. We thought that we could enjoy part of it during the 11-1/2 hours of flight time so we took it with us in our carry on. Guess what? It was confiscated at CDG. Maybe it looks like explosives to the x-ray. Or, the guy at the machine was hungry. We'll never know.
In terms of clothes it's a different but also weird circumstance. If I decide to pack one part of an outfit but not it's mate, I have an un-wearable outfit. If I realize this error too late, the one piece is always at the bottom of the suitcase.
I like to take the opportunity of a departure to weed out clothes that I haven't worn in awhile. A few years ago, I thought that I might wear some of the things I don't wear in California in Paris. Suits from my previous working life for example. I packed them and took them to Paris only to realize that I didn't wear the outfit there either.
Unfortunately, I don't know how or where to recycle/give away clothes in Paris, so I now have a bag of clothes in the cave, waiting for me to find The Goodwill of Paris.
This involves mostly the refrigerator and the closet.
About 10 days before we leave, I stop buying all perishable food that we won't need immediately. I usually stop grocery shopping almost completely. For a few days, it's OK, we have everything we need.
As the departure date gets closer, things get a little bleaker. We have lettuce but no tomatoes. Or worse, celery but no tomatoes, lettuce or peanut butter. I have to get creative to use up the celery and it usually ends up in some mismatched dish.
Last night we had guests over for cocktails. We had pita chips but when I checked the pantry, there were only four Triscuits left in the bottom of the box. I didn't want to see the guests fighting, so I only served the pita chips. The mismatch here was the herbed goat cheese on pita chips. Luckily we haven't run out of wine yet.
I always end up throwing something away, which is sad. This time, I think it's going to be lettuce. I tried to calculate the number of days left vs. the amount of lettuce needed per day, but we must have skipped a planned salad or two, I have three heads of romaine lettuce left.
If we have eggs left, I hard boil them and Terry eats them in-flight.
Sometimes I freeze things. When we get home after a long flight, there's a surprise waiting in the freezer. Last time, I'd made spaghetti and had leftovers which I froze. An easy four minutes in the microwave and we had dinner.
In Paris, it's a little harder to do this because we have an electrical ghost. For no reason, many times when we're not even home, the electricity in one of the two electrical boxes shuts off. Unfortunately, it's the box that the refrigerator is hooked up to, so I've been scared to freeze things in Paris and leave them. We've tried to get this problem fixed but we haven't been able to find the source of the problem.
So, in Paris, I am very careful to try to get rid of all the perishable food. We normally have so little food left that we eat out the night before we leave. Once, though, we ended up with a whole camembert. We couldn't bear to throw it out. We thought that we could enjoy part of it during the 11-1/2 hours of flight time so we took it with us in our carry on. Guess what? It was confiscated at CDG. Maybe it looks like explosives to the x-ray. Or, the guy at the machine was hungry. We'll never know.
In terms of clothes it's a different but also weird circumstance. If I decide to pack one part of an outfit but not it's mate, I have an un-wearable outfit. If I realize this error too late, the one piece is always at the bottom of the suitcase.
I like to take the opportunity of a departure to weed out clothes that I haven't worn in awhile. A few years ago, I thought that I might wear some of the things I don't wear in California in Paris. Suits from my previous working life for example. I packed them and took them to Paris only to realize that I didn't wear the outfit there either.
Unfortunately, I don't know how or where to recycle/give away clothes in Paris, so I now have a bag of clothes in the cave, waiting for me to find The Goodwill of Paris.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Seven Years
I wrote this, then took it off the blog for a day. I wasn't sure I should publish this in the first place. Some people will read this and understand what I'm trying to say. Others will question my sanity and still others will try to inflict guilt. Just so everyone knows, I never feel guilty, it is not in my emotional constitution.
You have to read this carefully and remember that it is coming from my point of view, not yours. It's my blog and my theme is "Aller Retour".
This month it will be seven years that we've had an apartment in Paris. In some ways, it seems like a long time and in some ways it seems like yesterday.
In September 2002, the US was making noises about war in Iraq. The French didn't like us very much, and vice-versa. I couldn't speak French so I kept my mouth shut most of the time. I think this was a wise move.
We finalized the purchase of our first apartment on rue de Seine and ran out to buy the basics since it was empty. In one day, we went to Darty and bought a refrigerator, a washer/dryer (one unit), a TV, stereo and two phones. I think we continued on and ordered our bed on the same day.
Since the bed had a long lead time for manufacture, Le Bon Marche lent us a bed which was delivered promptly. The TV came and for a long time, we used the box for our dining table/desk.
In the next few days, we bought a small dining room table, four folding chairs, a small couch and chair for the living room, a small armoire and a dresser. A few tables and lamps followed and by the time we were ready to leave in mid-November, all the furniture had arrived. We were so excited. Never mind that the apartment was so small that the only two doors in the place were the front door and the bathroom door. We had a shower, no tub, one window and one skylight. But it was ours.
Now in September 09, we've been in a new (to us it's new, it's really 200 years old) apartment for three years. Much of the original things we bought have been replaced for one reason or another.
What's changed in seven years? Our original plan to stay in Paris for a month or two every year and travel never came to fruition. We were going to rent the apartment the rest of the time.
We started making friends in Paris, finding activities. It started to seem like home. I learned French. We traveled a bit and it was always hard, dirty and not as interesting as we expected. Our time in Paris no longer seems like a vacation, it became part of our life.
We still suffer from frustrating situations from time to time. The cultural differences of how things are done continue to annoy us/drive us crazy. We try not to change anything that's not necessary (like phone or internet service). Banking is an astonishing new world.
Our friends and family don't completely understand. We keep coming home (US) and then leaving again for France. In France, we usually don't miss much because we are in the US during the many and extended French holidays.
Some people understand more than others. We get people that ask, “what do you do there?” implying that after we’ve seen the big monuments and had a cursory view of some of the key museums, there’s not much more to do in Paris. Some people, when they hear what we do, look toward the horizon with a smile and ask a more specific question such as “what is your favorite neighborhood or restaurant?” The latter group of people are the ones that get it.
There are lots of people in Paris that do just about the same thing that we do. They may change the months they’re in Paris, but they go back and forth. They are happy with their lives, too.
Living between two countries has been one of the most educational, interesting and life-changing things I've ever done. Yes, when I look back, it seems like it's been seven years. I’ve changed in many ways, learned a lot, become stronger, more courageous, more curious, happier with the small things in life.
You have to read this carefully and remember that it is coming from my point of view, not yours. It's my blog and my theme is "Aller Retour".
This month it will be seven years that we've had an apartment in Paris. In some ways, it seems like a long time and in some ways it seems like yesterday.
In September 2002, the US was making noises about war in Iraq. The French didn't like us very much, and vice-versa. I couldn't speak French so I kept my mouth shut most of the time. I think this was a wise move.
We finalized the purchase of our first apartment on rue de Seine and ran out to buy the basics since it was empty. In one day, we went to Darty and bought a refrigerator, a washer/dryer (one unit), a TV, stereo and two phones. I think we continued on and ordered our bed on the same day.
Since the bed had a long lead time for manufacture, Le Bon Marche lent us a bed which was delivered promptly. The TV came and for a long time, we used the box for our dining table/desk.
In the next few days, we bought a small dining room table, four folding chairs, a small couch and chair for the living room, a small armoire and a dresser. A few tables and lamps followed and by the time we were ready to leave in mid-November, all the furniture had arrived. We were so excited. Never mind that the apartment was so small that the only two doors in the place were the front door and the bathroom door. We had a shower, no tub, one window and one skylight. But it was ours.
Now in September 09, we've been in a new (to us it's new, it's really 200 years old) apartment for three years. Much of the original things we bought have been replaced for one reason or another.
What's changed in seven years? Our original plan to stay in Paris for a month or two every year and travel never came to fruition. We were going to rent the apartment the rest of the time.
We started making friends in Paris, finding activities. It started to seem like home. I learned French. We traveled a bit and it was always hard, dirty and not as interesting as we expected. Our time in Paris no longer seems like a vacation, it became part of our life.
We still suffer from frustrating situations from time to time. The cultural differences of how things are done continue to annoy us/drive us crazy. We try not to change anything that's not necessary (like phone or internet service). Banking is an astonishing new world.
Our friends and family don't completely understand. We keep coming home (US) and then leaving again for France. In France, we usually don't miss much because we are in the US during the many and extended French holidays.
Some people understand more than others. We get people that ask, “what do you do there?” implying that after we’ve seen the big monuments and had a cursory view of some of the key museums, there’s not much more to do in Paris. Some people, when they hear what we do, look toward the horizon with a smile and ask a more specific question such as “what is your favorite neighborhood or restaurant?” The latter group of people are the ones that get it.
There are lots of people in Paris that do just about the same thing that we do. They may change the months they’re in Paris, but they go back and forth. They are happy with their lives, too.
Living between two countries has been one of the most educational, interesting and life-changing things I've ever done. Yes, when I look back, it seems like it's been seven years. I’ve changed in many ways, learned a lot, become stronger, more courageous, more curious, happier with the small things in life.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Watercolors
We were sitting on the beach in Cap Ferrat and made "beach friends" with the only other American within ear-shot. She was recently graduated from college and had the luck to work (as a "stagiere") in Cap Ferrat for two months. She was keeping a journal with small watercolors in a notebook.
I've always wanted to try watercolor, but since I'm barely learning to draw, it seemed like a big step. So, I bought a child's watercolor set, a small pad of paper and a brush. I've done a few things, nothing took long, but they are colorful.
Each time I try something, the watercolors seem to move by themselves, so they teach me something. Here are two from my small collection. More from Paris.
Scanning these was much harder than painting them, but I now know how to do it.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
The Euro
The price of the Euro is killing us.
When we bought our first apartment seven years ago this month, the rate of exchange was .98. Basically 1 to 1. For every Euro spent, we spent $1. It was easy to figure out and the price of things made sense.
A lot has changed in seven years. While the exchange rate isn't at an all-time high of over $1.60, it is now in the $1.43 range. We have been waiting for the rate to drop before exchanging money and wiring it over to our French account, but we're running out of time (and Euros).
There was one second in the spring when the rate was $1.24. We sent a small amount of money, betting that it would stay in this range. We were wrong. My Euro 2.20 coffee will cost me $3.15. Maybe this is OK because tax and tip are included. But this is about 3 oz. of coffee when I can get a medium coffee (which is huge) at Starbucks for $1.95. I won't continue this mental exercise, I'll get too upset.
It's tax time in France and we will owe Taxe Habitation and Taxe Fonciere in addition to our normal homeowner's association bills, and the day-to-day cost of living expenses like food. I'm whining, I know.
From my perspective, it seems that when the US economy is in trouble, the Euro drops against the dollar and then the inverse is true. As the stock market rises, the Euro rises against the dollar. I'm not an economist, this is only my observation.
Feeling poor and frugal, we'll be wiring the dollars to our account as Euros, thinking about the good old days of an exchange rate of 1 to 1.
When we bought our first apartment seven years ago this month, the rate of exchange was .98. Basically 1 to 1. For every Euro spent, we spent $1. It was easy to figure out and the price of things made sense.
A lot has changed in seven years. While the exchange rate isn't at an all-time high of over $1.60, it is now in the $1.43 range. We have been waiting for the rate to drop before exchanging money and wiring it over to our French account, but we're running out of time (and Euros).
There was one second in the spring when the rate was $1.24. We sent a small amount of money, betting that it would stay in this range. We were wrong. My Euro 2.20 coffee will cost me $3.15. Maybe this is OK because tax and tip are included. But this is about 3 oz. of coffee when I can get a medium coffee (which is huge) at Starbucks for $1.95. I won't continue this mental exercise, I'll get too upset.
It's tax time in France and we will owe Taxe Habitation and Taxe Fonciere in addition to our normal homeowner's association bills, and the day-to-day cost of living expenses like food. I'm whining, I know.
From my perspective, it seems that when the US economy is in trouble, the Euro drops against the dollar and then the inverse is true. As the stock market rises, the Euro rises against the dollar. I'm not an economist, this is only my observation.
Feeling poor and frugal, we'll be wiring the dollars to our account as Euros, thinking about the good old days of an exchange rate of 1 to 1.
Friday, August 28, 2009
The Shooting Star
When you see a shooting star, does something special happen? Or is it just a momentary thrill?
I live in two places that both have a lot of light pollution. Maybe I don’t look up enough. I’ve never seen one before and wouldn’t have known what it was.
Last night I was having dinner outdoors with my sister in La Costa. All of a sudden I looked up and there it was. I remarked immediately to my sister by saying, “maybe it’s fireworks or a star” and she read my mind and told me that I’d just seen a shooting star.
It was quite spectacular. It was low in the sky, just above the tree line in the distance and it was yellow. It was moving away from us and had a beautiful sparkly tail. As fast as I saw it, it was gone.
I’ll remember this moment because I was with my sister, sitting outside on a warm, beautiful California summer evening, talking and sharing a cheese plate and a glass of wine (each).
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Mistaken Deja Vu?
Hard to imagine that I'm using french words to describe something that happened to me today in California. Sometimes I know a word in french that I don't know in English. Rucher is one of them. I have to fumble to think of the word apiary.
Today I experienced what I think could be called mistaken deja vu. I felt I'd been there before and I was incorrect. Can this happen?
My sister and I were driving to our cousin's house this afternoon. I had her address and had been to her house once before (isn't this deja vu?). Even though I have no sense of direction, my mental GPS got us to the right street but we couldn't find the address. I really felt that we were in the right place, that I'd been there before, which, if I'd been correct, would have been true.
Up and down the street we went. We were enjoying ourselves, the neighborhood is very nice and we were a little early so we drove around for awhile, looking for her special front door. I knew we were close.
After several trips up and down the street not finding the house, we decided to call to get directions. It turned out were on the right street but across a canyon from her house. So, we weren't even close. With the directions and my sister's expert navigation skills, we made our correction and pulled up in front of her house five minutes later.
When I saw the front door, and my cousin's smiling face, I knew immediately that I had experienced mistaken deja vu in the other neighborhood.
When was I there before, if ever, I'll never know. Perhaps I'd gotten lost in that neighborhood before.
Today I experienced what I think could be called mistaken deja vu. I felt I'd been there before and I was incorrect. Can this happen?
My sister and I were driving to our cousin's house this afternoon. I had her address and had been to her house once before (isn't this deja vu?). Even though I have no sense of direction, my mental GPS got us to the right street but we couldn't find the address. I really felt that we were in the right place, that I'd been there before, which, if I'd been correct, would have been true.
Up and down the street we went. We were enjoying ourselves, the neighborhood is very nice and we were a little early so we drove around for awhile, looking for her special front door. I knew we were close.
After several trips up and down the street not finding the house, we decided to call to get directions. It turned out were on the right street but across a canyon from her house. So, we weren't even close. With the directions and my sister's expert navigation skills, we made our correction and pulled up in front of her house five minutes later.
When I saw the front door, and my cousin's smiling face, I knew immediately that I had experienced mistaken deja vu in the other neighborhood.
When was I there before, if ever, I'll never know. Perhaps I'd gotten lost in that neighborhood before.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
A Tangle of Cables
I'm leaving town tomorrow for a visit with my Mom and my sister for a few days.
For a weekend trip, I can live with just my iPHONE since I can get email, internet, music and have a simple camera. But, I can't write a long email and I can't search the internet very well. I can't access my files. For a longer trip, I have to take more electronic gear.
My iPHONE, laptop, Kindle and camera are going with me. Plus a couple of flash drives. Everything on this list except the flash drives needs to be charged. Four cables for four devices. I keep them all in the same place, in a tangled mess in a desk drawer. Some are long and some are short. They all have different ends to them which is how I can tell them apart.
All these devices are dual voltage so when I go to France, I just have to change the plug and I can charge them all using the same cables. So, the cables go with me everywhere.
I'm afraid to lose them, especially in France. Where would I get a replacement? So, I pack all the cables in my carry-on luggage along with all the devices.
I used to wonder why I always got picked for additional security screening at the airport. A middle-aged, nicely dressed white woman. I finally figured out that it's the cables. They probably look suspicious on the x-ray, perhaps like a primitive bomb.
It's a bomb, alright. A bomb of tangled up cables.
With all the technical achievement required to make these great devices, you'd think they could come up with a universal cable and plug system. It would save a lot of confusion, and the TSA could focus on the real terror threats.
For a weekend trip, I can live with just my iPHONE since I can get email, internet, music and have a simple camera. But, I can't write a long email and I can't search the internet very well. I can't access my files. For a longer trip, I have to take more electronic gear.
My iPHONE, laptop, Kindle and camera are going with me. Plus a couple of flash drives. Everything on this list except the flash drives needs to be charged. Four cables for four devices. I keep them all in the same place, in a tangled mess in a desk drawer. Some are long and some are short. They all have different ends to them which is how I can tell them apart.
All these devices are dual voltage so when I go to France, I just have to change the plug and I can charge them all using the same cables. So, the cables go with me everywhere.
I'm afraid to lose them, especially in France. Where would I get a replacement? So, I pack all the cables in my carry-on luggage along with all the devices.
I used to wonder why I always got picked for additional security screening at the airport. A middle-aged, nicely dressed white woman. I finally figured out that it's the cables. They probably look suspicious on the x-ray, perhaps like a primitive bomb.
It's a bomb, alright. A bomb of tangled up cables.
With all the technical achievement required to make these great devices, you'd think they could come up with a universal cable and plug system. It would save a lot of confusion, and the TSA could focus on the real terror threats.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
H1N1
I haven't really spent too much time thinking about the swine flu until today. We had some interesting discussions at our conversation groups in Paris when it first hit the news. There were people that thought that you could get it from eating pork. If life were only that easy.
I was at the doctor's today and asked when they would have the flu shots for this new flu. The nurse told me that the shots will only be available from the health department (whatever that is, I have no idea) and doctors will not be giving them. They will be able to give the normal flu shots only.
What does this mean for us? Half the time, we catch something on the plane going to and from Paris. An 11+ hour flight next to a sick person is almost a sure-fire way to get a virus. I'm not paranoid but I hate to be sick and I am a very bad patient (meaning not very patient). A couple of times when I've flown next to a sick person, I've asked to be moved. Several times I've worn a mask when someone is violently ill near me. Perhaps with all this interest/fear in the "swine flu" I can complain in advance and get the person thrown off the plane. Not a popular move, but neither is getting on a plane when you're very sick.
We're prepared. Our doctors have given us Tamiflu and antibiotics. I have NyQuill, cough drops, and aspirin. The swine flu doesn't have a chance in Paris. We hope.
I was at the doctor's today and asked when they would have the flu shots for this new flu. The nurse told me that the shots will only be available from the health department (whatever that is, I have no idea) and doctors will not be giving them. They will be able to give the normal flu shots only.
What does this mean for us? Half the time, we catch something on the plane going to and from Paris. An 11+ hour flight next to a sick person is almost a sure-fire way to get a virus. I'm not paranoid but I hate to be sick and I am a very bad patient (meaning not very patient). A couple of times when I've flown next to a sick person, I've asked to be moved. Several times I've worn a mask when someone is violently ill near me. Perhaps with all this interest/fear in the "swine flu" I can complain in advance and get the person thrown off the plane. Not a popular move, but neither is getting on a plane when you're very sick.
We're prepared. Our doctors have given us Tamiflu and antibiotics. I have NyQuill, cough drops, and aspirin. The swine flu doesn't have a chance in Paris. We hope.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Bard In The Garden
LA can't compete with Paris for cultural offerings. The things that are available in LA are usually far away from where we live, since the city is so spread out.
I would take the metro or a bus for an hour to attend a cultural event in Paris, but consider an hour's drive on the LA freeway system much too long to go to a museum, play or concert on a regular basis.
Evidently for me, proximity counts. So, when a flier fell out of my newspaper a few weeks ago advertising "The Bard In The Garden", a Shakespeare play in a nearby botanic garden, I immediately called for tickets. "Nearby garden" is still a 30+ minute drive, especially in Friday night traffic -- practically in our backyard!
I'd never been to the venue before, the South Coast Botanic Gardens in Palos Verdes so I was doubly excited to see "As You Like It" en plein air (outdoors).
I planned and packed a picnic dinner. We have a nice picnic basket that has everything needed for an elegant meal. We discussed what to wear. Do we dress for the theatre, albeit outside, or for the beach? A happy medium seemed to be the answer, with a sweater and blanket thrown in. We packed the car with our beach chairs and we were off.
I anticipated a crowd and worried that we would arrive late and not be able to see. We hit traffic and were later than we had planned. But, we weren't late at all and got a good spot for our night's activities. Other people filed in and set up their temporary camps as the sun set. It was quiet, calm, warm, relaxed.
The performance started. Just a bare stage with actors in everyday clothes. The performance was a modern production with songs and some new scenes. I'd read the play and studied a synopsis so I could easily follow the plot, picking out the new from the old. I enjoyed every minute of it.
The night air, the performance, the picnic. I guess LA has more to offer than I've given it credit for.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
The Squat
Leave home for ten days and squatters will move in. Even though we locked the door, closed the drapes and the windows, it was obvious we were gone.
So when we came home from Cap Ferrat, the plants in my window boxes were a mess. I immediately started watering, pruning and nurturing them back to life. One plant in particular was very odd looking, even dead.
We'd had a long day, and as I was pulling the dead twigs from the planter, it took me awhile to realize that a bird had moved in to my planter box, building a nest.
Now I'm guilty. I pulled it apart before realizing! I quickly put it back together as best I could and unpacked.
About an hour later, perched on the ledge, a large pigeon was looking in at me. We made eye contact and she flew away with a whoosh. But, she was back. In an effort to ease my conscience, I put some offerings out there, crackers and bread. Eventually we went to bed.
In the morning, she was back, having re-made the nest. Sorry, but I have to open the windows, little bird, so if you can co-exist with me, I can enjoy seeing your babies. But it was not to be. When she realized that the apartment was inhabited, she moved on, leaving this nest.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Sunday Shopping?
It's in the news today, if the Senat approves this new law, more shops will be allowed to open on Sunday in Paris as well as some other parts (not all, of course) of France.
The "no shopping on Sunday" law has been in effect since 1906.
It seems that many people are against this new law. I hear from French friends that Sunday is a day of rest, for family and church. But, it passed the Assembly Nationale last week and will surely pass in the Senat after three days of debate.
Some stores have been able to work around the law, or simply stay open and pay the fine for breaking the law. It is expected to encourage spending. I can honestly say I'll do my part.
Every Saturday that we're in Paris, I wake up with an electric feeling. It's the busiest shopping day of the week because people work Monday through Friday and the shops are closed on Sunday.
My strategy, to get out early and buy enough for Saturday through Monday has worked. If I'm ever caught at Monoprix at 5 PM (or, God forbid, later) on Saturday, I consider buying from the local alimentation for a couple of days. The lines extend down every aisle, people are jostling for position, cutting in line and it is general chaos.
There are some stores that are open on Sunday morning, but they are all far away. The stores on rue Cler are open on Sunday morning, normally an easy trip on the 82 bus except that the 82 bus doesn't stop in our neighborhood on Sundays, evidently a street nearby is designated as pedestrian only on Sunday. My other choice is Champion in our old neighborhood on rue de Seine. I could walk or take the 58 bus. The bus runs every 30 minutes on Sunday morning, so if it's not too cold or too hot I can wait. But the store is packed, it is confusing, a last resort.
Even though I don't have a really good market nearby, if they were open, I would go. Then, I could spend my Saturday as I please, perhaps a day of rest for me.
The "no shopping on Sunday" law has been in effect since 1906.
It seems that many people are against this new law. I hear from French friends that Sunday is a day of rest, for family and church. But, it passed the Assembly Nationale last week and will surely pass in the Senat after three days of debate.
Some stores have been able to work around the law, or simply stay open and pay the fine for breaking the law. It is expected to encourage spending. I can honestly say I'll do my part.
Every Saturday that we're in Paris, I wake up with an electric feeling. It's the busiest shopping day of the week because people work Monday through Friday and the shops are closed on Sunday.
My strategy, to get out early and buy enough for Saturday through Monday has worked. If I'm ever caught at Monoprix at 5 PM (or, God forbid, later) on Saturday, I consider buying from the local alimentation for a couple of days. The lines extend down every aisle, people are jostling for position, cutting in line and it is general chaos.
There are some stores that are open on Sunday morning, but they are all far away. The stores on rue Cler are open on Sunday morning, normally an easy trip on the 82 bus except that the 82 bus doesn't stop in our neighborhood on Sundays, evidently a street nearby is designated as pedestrian only on Sunday. My other choice is Champion in our old neighborhood on rue de Seine. I could walk or take the 58 bus. The bus runs every 30 minutes on Sunday morning, so if it's not too cold or too hot I can wait. But the store is packed, it is confusing, a last resort.
Even though I don't have a really good market nearby, if they were open, I would go. Then, I could spend my Saturday as I please, perhaps a day of rest for me.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Dinner at 9...
The hotter it gets and the lighter it is outside, the later we have dinner.
Darkness has always been a que that it's time to start cooking dinner. In the middle of summer in Paris, it is not dark until 10 or 11, so this is no good, I've got to look at the clock. And, it's hot outside, so it's not inviting to cook. No bar-b-que here, of course.
So, we've been having dinner between 8 and 9 these days. I can see how the French get into this habit.
In California, it's normal to eat dinner around 7 PM. Sometimes earlier if you can manage. If you make a reservation at a restaurant (even the nicest restaurant) for 8 PM, you end up being the last table seated. Every other table is finishing and paying the bill. The watiers are eyeing you, hoping you'll eat quickly and leave.
In France it's just the opposite. If we arrive at 8 PM, we are often the first people in the restaurant. When we're finishing up, even if it's 10 or 10:30, people are still arriving, looking fresh and ready for dinner. Even the local pizza place, which is really casual, doesn't open until 7 PM.
With the summer heat, we started choosing restaurants for the air conditioning rather than the food or service. Even though people are sitting outside, it's not very pleasant to eat with the sun beating down on your head while you're eating. We found one restaurant that seems to be the "early bird" place in Paris -- Bistrot de Breteuil. It is a nice place with a prix fixe meal. When we got there at 8, the place was packed. Not many tourists but a lot of seniors. I think they all arrived at 7, which in French terms is early. We had a nice meal and the tables vacated by the early crowd were replaced with the later crowd, so all was well.
Now that we're back in the US, I notice that we are eating earlier and earlier. Back in the rhythm of the place I guess. I've even gotten the bar-b-que ("grill" to my sister) going and have been consuming lots of turkey and chicken (to be detailed in another post). Bye to veal for the summer, hello to the turkey and dinner at 6:30 PM until September.
Darkness has always been a que that it's time to start cooking dinner. In the middle of summer in Paris, it is not dark until 10 or 11, so this is no good, I've got to look at the clock. And, it's hot outside, so it's not inviting to cook. No bar-b-que here, of course.
So, we've been having dinner between 8 and 9 these days. I can see how the French get into this habit.
In California, it's normal to eat dinner around 7 PM. Sometimes earlier if you can manage. If you make a reservation at a restaurant (even the nicest restaurant) for 8 PM, you end up being the last table seated. Every other table is finishing and paying the bill. The watiers are eyeing you, hoping you'll eat quickly and leave.
In France it's just the opposite. If we arrive at 8 PM, we are often the first people in the restaurant. When we're finishing up, even if it's 10 or 10:30, people are still arriving, looking fresh and ready for dinner. Even the local pizza place, which is really casual, doesn't open until 7 PM.
With the summer heat, we started choosing restaurants for the air conditioning rather than the food or service. Even though people are sitting outside, it's not very pleasant to eat with the sun beating down on your head while you're eating. We found one restaurant that seems to be the "early bird" place in Paris -- Bistrot de Breteuil. It is a nice place with a prix fixe meal. When we got there at 8, the place was packed. Not many tourists but a lot of seniors. I think they all arrived at 7, which in French terms is early. We had a nice meal and the tables vacated by the early crowd were replaced with the later crowd, so all was well.
Now that we're back in the US, I notice that we are eating earlier and earlier. Back in the rhythm of the place I guess. I've even gotten the bar-b-que ("grill" to my sister) going and have been consuming lots of turkey and chicken (to be detailed in another post). Bye to veal for the summer, hello to the turkey and dinner at 6:30 PM until September.
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