Chasing Rainbows

The weather has been weird this week.  A large storm that has torn across Northern Europe has also hit Paris.  It's been alternately windy, cold, rainy, sunny, warm; sometimes all at the same time.  Today, I thought there had to be a rainbow out there.   I looked and looked and didn't find one.

Then, on the way home on the bus, I looked out the window and Voila!  There it was!  A gorgeous rainbow.  Remember, this is through a bus window and it was moving. 

This one was taken after I got off the bus (you can see the bus pulling away) on rue de Sevres at Sevres Babylone.

Enjoy.

Do I Look Like A Fool???

In the past week, I have had countless small snubs come my way.  The kind that if you don't listen closely, it will go over your head.  They've come from Americans and French people, so it's not cultural.  It's something else.  I guess it must be me. 

I'll have to examine my method of operating.  Maybe I'm too casual, don't dress properly, smile too freely; I have no idea what it is that's leaving me open to comments of a negative nature.

I had an American woman imply that I could not afford a vacation like the one she had just taken.  I was so astonished (she is a psychotherapist, imagine!) that I was speechless.

Then, I asked a bus driver for directions and he literally didn't answer at all and shooed me off his bus.  Oh well.  Another person recently implied that I couldn't read French well enough to understand an article that he had enjoyed.  Finally, a neighbor today demanded a "Merci" twice from me before I could even respond.  I had to answer that I had heard her the first time and she hadn't given me the time to respond.  Hrmph!

I have also had my successes in places that are otherwise hostile.  I successfully, and without incident, bought a case of champagne today after a long discussion with the shop owner.  But, the man at the kiosk couldn't understand my request for "Le Figaro avec les magazines" even though I buy the same thing every Saturday from the same man.  On the good side, the guy in the grocery store went to his special supply of non-bruised bananas to find me four perfect ones.   The woman in the shoe store found the pair of boots I wanted after thinking she didn't have my size.  Pascal is always great at the tennis shop.

The bad still outweighs the good over the past week.  

I guess I should renew my membership in the "thick skin club". 

Chestnuts

It's that time of year again--I can smell the chestnuts roasting in big pans over high heat.  The smell is between woods-y and something burning.  But I love the smell.

Growing up in California, we never had chestnuts.  Maybe it's not cold enough. 

I don't even like the taste of chestnuts very much. I like the smell and the idea. 

I couldn't resist today and bought a small bag from a woman outside the Luxembourg Gardens.  She measured them out and then gave me a couple extra.  By the time I got them home they were cold, so I had to heat them up again to try them. 

St Jacut de la Mer

The tiny town of St. Jacut de la Mer is so small that it is hard to find on a map of Brittany.  A peninsula that juts into the ocean.  At low tide, you can almost walk across to the other side.  At high tide, the waves lap up against the sea walls. 

They have a small "downtown" with a grocery store, a few shops, even a weekly open-air market. 

There are a few adolescent boys that drive recklessly around town on Vespas, scaring the pedestrians. 

I doubt that many people live here full time.  But, there are enough little gardens and cute little well-kept homes that I could be wrong.

A bus stops once in the morning and once in the evening.  It costs Euro 2 to ride into Dinan, about 30 minutes away.  Otherwise you need to have a car, get a cab, find a friend with a car or walk.

For the second year in a row, we spent a week doing almost nothing.  Beach combing, hiking, breathing deeply to get as much of the cleansing sea air into our lungs. 

It's an ideal way to forget your problems, regroup, recuperate.

Photos from our beach hikes.

No One's Starving At This Monastery

No One Goes Hungry at L'Abbaye