Down, But Not Out

It takes a lot to get rid of us, but the French government is doing its best.

Our "Carte de Sejour" were denied based on a technicality. So, we now have to go through the process of getting a new Visa (the first step of the process) from the Consulate in LA. While we thought this might be coming, it is still not good news.

We Have Our Holidays, Too!

We are normally in France in May. It's a great time of year to be in France except for all the holidays which seen to create a disruption every week of the month.

First there's the "vacances scolaires". Two weeks off for schools, associations, etc.during the last week in April extending into early May.

Then there's the "real" holidays. I count five. Last year, several fell on a Sunday. Unlike the US, where a Sunday holiday becomes either a Friday or Monday off, if the holiday falls on a Sunday in France there are no more days off. This is a little confusing and contradictory since if the holiday lands on a Thursday, many people take off Thursday through Sunday, maybe even starting the long weekend on Wednesday. This is called the "pont".

This year's May holidays are:

May 1 -- Ascencion and Labor Day
(so we've killed two birds with one stone)
May 8 -- WWII Victory Day
May 11 -- Pentecote
May 12 -- Whit Monday

Now to the US. When I was working for a large company, we only had six real holidays a year. New Year's Day, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving (two days) and Christmas. We also got two "personal" days that we could use for taking time off for ML King Day, President's Day or other religious holidays.

I count 12 standard holidays for France, although some are under scrutiny like "Easter Monday".

So, in the US, the second holiday of the year happens at the end of May. This year it's Monday, May 26. The long weekend (three days) is the traditional summer kick off weekend. Normally, in Manhattan Beach, the weather is cool and overcast. We call it "June Gloom" and it lasts until our next big holiday, the 4th of July.

We also have a non-holiday that is celebrated, at least in the Western US -- Cinco de Mayo. This holiday is more about eating and drinking, I have no idea what the significance of the day is. But, I've been getting sales flyers, seeing ads in the newspaper for Cinco de Mayo sales, party ideas, things to buy.

Cinco de Mayo is on a Monday this year, so I'm sure all the celebrating will be on the 3rd or 4th. But, who cares! We haven't had a holiday since January 1st.

The Carte de Sejour, Part II

It's never easy.

We have been waiting for the "final" answer from the Prefecture regarding our Carte de Sejour since March 5th. And, this whole project has been carried over from the Fall. We left France thinking that they'd send us their answer by mail.

Barbara, who watches our apartment while we're gone emailed us last week, saying that there have been a "flurry" of Avis de Lettre Recommande (french version of Certified Mail). She sent them to us so that we could figure out who wanted to send us something but wanted a signature.

From what we can figure out, two of these forms are from the Prefecture, meaning that this is the mail we've been waiting for concerning the "Carte". But, we need to sign before we can find out our fate.

A quick trip to the La Poste website clarified, however, it's not good news.

Evidently, what we should have done is called a "Procuration" and it involves leaving the name of the person who can sign for your items with the local post office. It must be done in person! We're still trying to figure this one out.

As an aside, the reason we don't get our mail re-directed from Paris is because La Poste is so disorganized. Twice, for two different trips, we went in, filled out forms (in person) to re-direct our mail and paid Euro 55. Not one piece of mail was forwarded each time, so we finally realized that they can't handle this. Both times they admitted their error and refunded the money!

Another "Lettre" seems to be from our Syndic. I wrote them a letter and included it with the Q2 check for our "homeowner's association dues" telling them to forward any critical mail to MB. They cashed the check so I know they got the letter. So, why they sent a "Lettre" to our Paris address vs. the requested MB address is another French mystery that will be solved at a later date.

So, we are stoically awaiting a second package sent by Barbara with more "Lettres". Evidently, many people want to get hold of us!

The next chapter of the "Carte" will surely follow after we get the mail sorted out.

Exchange Rate Woes

Is this another reason for Americans to stay home?

This week, the dollar hit an all-time low against the Euro, $1.60. This means that my coffee which is Euro 2.20 now costs me $3.52 and a baguette costs $1.36. We could starve this way.

Forget about home improvements, and new kitchen gadgets! Dinner in a simple restaurant can now cost $150! A movie (normally more expensive than in the US) is $32.

Pretty soon, we'll be turning out the lights from 10 PM to 7 AM.

Luckily there are free concerts all over Paris and many gardens to visit. Museums are free the first Sunday of the month and several museums (including two of my favorites, the Cluny and the Guimet) are free until summer.

Retour in September

Part of living in two places is adjusting to change. This is a good lesson for me and a difficult one to master.

Does attitude come before action or the reverse? I guess it depends on the situation.

Right now, we're in Manhattan Beach and will be here until September.

So for the next few months I will enjoy good weather, driving my cute blue car, speaking English (!), getting some Spring cleaning done, seeing family and friends.

And I will miss french conversation with my friends and the great people at WICE. My french language skills have already started to suffer (as if they weren't bad enough already).

I've substituted Target for Monoprix, chicken breasts for oiseaux sans tete, California red for Bordeaux, The Strand for the Luxembourg Gardens, Savior Faire for WICE.

I'm still counting the days until our retour.

The New Passports (not to be confused with the carte de sejour)

We still have not heard from the prefecture about our carte de sejour. It has been about 6, make that 7 weeks now (4/23).

In contrast, I mailed our passport applications to renew them about 10 days ago and today, new passports were in the mailbox. Quite a surprise!

Let's see how long it takes the french...

A Little Homesick

From the Pont des Arts

Living in two places, it is easy to get homesick for the "other" place. We left Paris prematurely so that Terry could have his knee surgery. We haven't missed Spring in Paris in many, many years. While Fall is my favorite time of year in Paris, the Spring has many things to recommend it. The trees become green again. The flowers all get the message at the same moment and start to bloom. And they "time" their blooms with the daffodils and narcissis flowering first followed by poppies, tulips and many others.

In the Luxembourg Gardens, it is obvious that the gardeners plan each bed with precision. The colors coordinate, the differing height of the plants adds interest, and when something dies, it is promptly removed and something else is put in it's place.

So, to get my Paris fix, I've read, re-read a couple of books about Paris. The first book I read is new to me, "A Paris Life" by G. Thomas Thornton. It is his account of life in Paris post WWII. There are many interesting stories, but the book lacks continuity, it could have used an editor. There are some ideas in the book that make it worth reading. And he wrote, "My exposure to the people, history, attitudes and social strata of Parisian life changed my outlook. I became liberal in my views, far beyond my years." I will have to remember this when someone in the US asks me, "what do you do THERE???"

But, the book that really made me homesick for Paris was "Paris to the Moon" by Adam Gopnik. I read this book when it was first published and enjoyed it, but in re-reading it, I found the language extraordinary, the scenes familiar. I especially like his descriptions of taking the bus. He writes, "The hardest thing to convey is how lovely it all is and how that loveliness seems all you need." He goes on to point out that this is transitory.

So, I will, for the moment, have to rely on my memory, the writings of others and my iPhoto collection.



This is where I buy my flowers



The small annoyances of Paris life...

A Hospital Room With A View

Only in Southern California!



Here is the view from Terry's hospital bed at Scripps Green Hospital in La Jolla. That's Torrey Pines Golf Course in front and the Pacific Ocean in the background.

The sunsets were incredible!

Unfortunately, the hospital didn't serve champagne to help us enjoy this sunset.

Terry's doing fine, the surgery was a success, we should be back in Paris soon.

Happy Birthday, Ted

Then



And Now

Re-Entry Shock

Sunday in Paris

We planned to have a nice meal on Sunday night (Easter) before our trip on Monday.

Isn't Easter supposed to be a Springtime holiday?

It was so cold that we both bundled up -- me in a full-length down coat with hood and Terry in his overcoat, scarf, gloves. We took the metro (there are very few busses on holidays and on Sundays, so we figured that Easter would be a double-whammy to the bus schedule).

We had a great dinner in a warm little restaurant. It started to rain while we were eating. It was a freezing rain and it was coming down pretty hard. Because it was our last night, we took a little detour before getting back on the metro.

By the time we got home, we were soaked and had to put all the shoes, coats, umbrellas and gloves in the bathroom so that they would dry.

Monday in California

After a long day chez Air France, we arrived in California. At 5:30 PM it was 70 degrees and sunny. As we drove home in the cab, through rush-hour in Manhattan Beach, (Highland Ave. was bumper-to-bumper), we saw people in shorts, people walking their dogs in t-shirts, people coming up from their day at the beach.

We opened the doors and windows to let the ocean air freshen the house after being closed for so long. It's definitely Spring here.

Le Figaro for Easter

Yesterday (Saturday) I went to buy Le Figaro. It is the combined Saturday/Sunday edition and has three magazines. The magazines take me all week to read. They are great.

I went to our local kiosk (Presse) and took a paper from the stack. It was under plastic because of the rain, so I struggled with the paper, the plastic the water that had pooled on top of the plastic.

I took the paper up to pay for it. The guy said, "that's the Friday paper". "No, the Friday paper doesn't come with the magazines," I reply. "This week the magazines are with the Friday paper".

"OK"

"Can I have the Saturday paper with the normal magazines, can we take the magazines from the Friday paper and put them into the Saturday paper and I'll buy that".

"OK"

I guess that with Easter, they moved the magazine date to Friday.

Happy Easter.

Out and About

Yes, it's still cold here. It hailed yesterday afternoon.

Here we are during a Sunday outing.





I'm on the Pont des Arts and Terry is in the garden at the Delacroix museum.

WICE

Our friends in France know what WICE is, and what it means to us. Our friends and family in the US are often curious. They know it has been important to us.

It was the first place that we felt that we were connecting with people in Paris. It feels like home. It feels like school. We've met many of our friends at WICE. Here are a few photos taken recently. These are by no means representative, since every conversation group is a new experience, a new group of people, a new dynamic.

It Must Be Spring

Does it look any warmer today in Paris? If you look back at the Fall photo of the Luxembourg Gardens you can see for yourself. Some of the trees think it's spring, they are starting to bloom, even though it's freezing outside.

I guess they know best.

On Other Fronts

The Crepes
I tried to make crepes for the first time yesterday. I used Odile's recipe. After a few attempts, I got them to be relatively thin. Not like hers, but good enough for my first attempt. It really messed up the kitchen. It was hot standing over the pan. I now really appreciate a good crepe. Making them is quite an art.

The Carte de Sejour
Today was supposed to be the final appointment for our Carte de Sejour.

This would allow us to stay in France legally beyond the 90 days allowed to tourists. Of course, there are ways to get around the 90 days (like leave the country) but we want to follow the rules.

We have had four or five appointments already to get to this point. We brought about ten pounds of paperwork with us, including three copies of nearly every legal document we own. They gave us a list of what they needed.

When we got to the prefecture, the receptionist handed us each a folder and told us to put all our paperwork into this folder. Then she gave us each a number: 003 and 004 (we were early). So, we had to pull all our files apart to take out the paperwork they wanted in the folders. We were madly going through our files, re-filing when they must have called our number. We didn't hear it, we were so focused on re-filing the paperwork according to the new set of demands.

Finally, the receptionist caught our attention, telling us that they had called our number. So, we grabbed everything, half done (re-done) and went to our station (a small cubicle). The woman proceeded to yell at us and tell us that she had already voided 003 because she called the number three times and no one came. We finally got past that one.

But, the tone of the meeting had been set (negative). She proceeds to go through our folders, asks a few questions. We provide her with what she wants. Then, she tells us to go back and sit in the waiting room until she calls us again.

A long time goes by. No call.

I move closer to where she should be calling us, to make sure we don't miss the call. Other people know the drill, too. Everyone is gathered around the entrance to the cubicles. Finally, she calls us in a small, high voice, we barely hear her.

We go back in. She tells us to sign some forms that she has put together that have all our vital info and our photos (within a black box, in black ink only on both sides of the form) and we should hear from the Prefecture de Police regarding their decision (whether to give us the "carte" or not) within two months.

To make a long story short, it seems that we will probably be turned down on a technicality (that we left the country before getting the carte). If that is the case, we have to completely re-apply for the original Visa at the French Consulate in LA. Before we do this, we need to renew our passports, since they expire in 2009 and the Visa is affixed to the passport. AARGH!

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

This is the rhythm of the week.

We are trying not to be frustrated, but we are used to completing a chore once and knowing that it is resolved.

One Step Forward
We deposited a check in our french bank account, were given a good exchange rate and immediate credit. We felt so happy.

Our dryer was broken. We called Darty "Service Apres Vente", a guy came out, worked on it, told us he fixed it, we paid him and he left.

Two Steps Back
Why Do Bad Things Always Happen On A Day When You Can't Fix It?

On Saturday, I looked at our bank account and the check that had been deposited on Thursday had been deducted from our account. The reason: the check was not dated! Why the teller didn't say anything when we were there is a mystery, isn't that part of her job?

On Sunday, I did my first load of laundry since the repair and the exact same problem happened. I thought he said it was fixed!

But, We Bounce Back, Again and Again
Today, we returned to the bank, deposited a new check, got a worse exchange rate, oh well. We then came home, stopped payment on the first check, which is now somewhere between the bank's processing center and the bank (they have told us for two days, "it should arrive this morning"). It still has not arrived.

A new repairman came out today from Darty. The new bill for the dryer is Euro 322. We are considering our options at this point and I will probably run to Monoprix and buy a clothes dryer that I use to hang my clothes to dry. It's more economical and more ecological.

"This isn't a blanchisserie..."

Beware of the French laundry!




I like to have our sheets done at a blanchisserie (French laundry). They come out starched, white and beautiful.

I normally go to a place on rue Notre Dames des Champs, where the woman is always nice to me.

But, I decided to try a new place because it was on the way to my other errands. Big mistake!

The minute I walked in the door, the trouble began. As I started to to take the sheets out of my chariot, the woman yelled at me from across the shop that the sheets must be in a plastic bag.

But, I don’t have a plastic bag!

Considering the problems the earth has with too many plastic bags right now, I made a conscious decision to bring the sheets in the chariot that I use for groceries, trying to save one plastic bag from becoming landfill.

Next, she threw a large paper bag at me and instructed me (still from across the room) to put the sheets in the bag. I follow her instructions.

Now it’s time for business. She asks all the details and fills out the form, handing it to me.

One detail is not filled out, so I ask. What day will the sheets be ready? She answers Friday. Then I ask her why not tomorrow? She yells at me, “This isn’t a blanchisserie”.

I pause. What? I could have sworn there was a sign on the front window saying “blanchisserie” and noting all the prices for laundry. My life passes before my eyes as I choose to argue this point. I mention the sign. She repeats, “this isn’t a blanchisseie” “Vendredi”…

OK, I will come back on Friday.

Now I am worried. My sheets will become landfill, or maybe they are going to the "Black Hole" where all people's sheets go who talk back to this woman. I can hardly wait for Friday.

Update to this story -- To my surprise, when I went to the store on Friday, there was a new woman, very nice, who gave me my sheets (in plastic!!!) and sent me on my way. Another small victory.

But, I will go back to the nice woman on Notre Dames des Champs to avoid the stress.

Tonight's Sunset

Senseless Crime in LA/Petty Crime in Paris

This morning's news on the CNN website has a story that is all too familiar in LA.

A standoff between the LAPD and someone with a gun. The guy was "holed up" in his house and called the police himself, telling them that he had already killed three family members.

There is a picture on the internet of the house in flames. To me, it is reminiscent of when they found Patty Hearst in a house in LA and there was a shoot out between LAPD and the SLA.

This story hits too close to home, as one SWAT team officer was killed and another was wounded. The wounded man is a friend that my sister and I knew in high school. We honor his sacrifice and commitment to keep our city safe.

But why do these shoot-outs continue? Why do we still see high speed police pursuits? What is the answer to counteract this random violence that we see every day in LA? Why is there a shoot-out, house on fire scenario in 2008 when we saw it and were horrified in 1974?

I want to get on a plane.

In Paris, the thing I'm most afraid of is being hit by a car. The biggest crime is pick-pocketing, which is fairly rampant. So, I keep my purse zipped and keep an eye on it at all times.

During recent riots on the outskirts of Paris, people were outraged that some of the rioters had evolved from throwing stones and burning cars to using hunting rifles (shotguns). Many police were injured because they weren't prepared for guns. Guns other than hunting rifles are not legal.

I am confused and torn over the issue of gun ownership and gun control in the US. I do not think that the government should step in and limit a constitutional right (gun ownership) because I believe that the government should not be the decision-maker. I believe that the government that governs least, governs best.

And, there is always the argument that the "bad guys" will always be able to procure guns. Then, the average American, who has a gun for hunting or protection, would be left without a gun.

I guess if I had all the answers, I'd be running for President or at least have my own radio talk show.

"I've Been Framed"

To put this in perspective, Ralphy weighs 18 pounds.

Several weeks ago, he was reported to San Diego Animal Control for "charging" a woman while he was on a leash. He actually did commit the crime, but most people aren't too worried when a pug approaches them. Certainly not enough to report the animal as dangerous.

So, Noah, who was walking him at the time, had to go to court yesterday and was given a public defender to represent them. Even with a skillful lawyer, Ralphy was fined $50 and now has a record.

He is now back in obedience school where he is excelling, we're proud to report.

Suitcases Full, We Head Across The Atlantic Again

The Import/Export Game

In preparation for our next trip to Paris, I make a list of all the things I need to buy to take back with me. I also do this when we’re ready to leave Paris for LA.

Because we split the year fairly evenly between two places, I feel that we don’t really import and export, we simply import to both countries. It’s a small import/import operation, with everything in the suitcases for either personal use or gifts. But, the list is long, as usual.

It’s fascinating when I hear others describe what they “import” from their home countries. Much of it is food product that can’t be obtained in France.

I guess the main reasons to import things are:
Lack of availability
Cost
Fear of the unknown, fear of not having your “thing”

Here’s my normal list of things that we take to France:
Shampoo, conditioner, zip lock baggies, Advil, Excedrin, Robitussin DM, contact lens solution, Afrin, English language books, the latest electronics, table linens, towels, kitchen accessories, tennis balls (this is Terry’s idea).

Here’s my list that we regularly bring back from France:
Tea, salt (all types), herbs and spices, French books, tea towels, candles, scarves, beauty products, chocolates.

And, here’s some of the things that are favorites of my friends (not exhaustive):
Brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, chocolate chips, tortillas and corn bread mix. Many others bring the zip lock bags, shampoo, lotion.

Terry drinks light beer and it is impossible to find in Paris.

We made a massive search one day and came up empty-handed. We found an American (The Real McCoy) store that sold a small Coors light (maybe 6 oz) for Euro 3.50, so a six pack of this would be Euro 21 and at today’s exchange rate, the 6 pack of small, miserable beer would be around $32.50!

Since you can’t even bring a bottle of water on the plane these days he’ll just have to settle for a “seize”.

What do you import?

The Scarecrows of Hidden Villa

We visited Hidden Villa this week. It is in Los Altos Hills, in Northern California.

Being a city girl, I enjoy this kind of outing.

I love vegetable gardens. The one at Hidden Villa is just my style – large but unkempt, visually interesting and full of surprises. There are still remnants of last summer’s crop – some artichoke stems, pumpkins, a stray zucchini. Winter crops like carrots were safely underground, staying warm.

On the day of our visit, the air was damp from the previous day’s rain. I could smell the wet earth, wild sage, pine.

My favorite part, though was the scarecrows who were busy guarding the garden.

Elma vs. Amala

No, this is not meant to be a metaphor for the differences between life in the US and life in France.

In fact, cleaning ladies seem to be similar the world over, both the good and the bad.

They all want to be paid in cash.
They seem to always be from a different country than the one they live and work in.
They seem to work miracles in a short amount of time.
They are brown and round.
They now all have cell phones.

The bad ones don’t stay for long. The ones that make a fatal mistake (ie bleach on the rug), the ones that are late, make excuses, don’t show up when they’re supposed to. The good ones sometimes become demanding or get an attitude (I was fired by Mirabelle because I asked her to dust more thoroughly). Yes, I have been fired by my cleaning lady.

Elma is from Guatemala. Amala is from Sri Lanka. They both can speak English, kinda. They are both whizzes at cleaning things that I hate to clean.

There are different cleaning challenges in each country. In Manhattan Beach, we have a lot of windows that need to be cleaned so we can see out. Every time there is a little rain or wind, the windows get covered with a slight bit of sand that’s blown up from the beach and it is impossible to see anything. So, there is Elma, all five feet of her (on a good day) standing on a ladder with her Windex bottle and roll of paper towels.

Amala has the chore of getting the water spots off the glass shower door. The water is very rich in minerals in Paris, so the doors look horrible after just a few days. It requires white vinegar to get this perfectly clean. But she does it.

Rituals are also necessary for both Elma and Amala. Amala starts the minute she walks in the door. For some reason, the dining room is the altar. She takes off her shoes, her coat, hat, scarf, etc and then bows and prays silently in the dining room. Then she’s off to work. Her husband told us she’s Catholic, but the red dot on her forehead and all the dining room prayers make me think otherwise.

Elma brings her huge bag of McDonalds and a large McDonald’s coffee into the house each morning. We never see her eat it, but we know she does. Once inside the house, she sets to work and never stops. When she’s ready to leave or whenever she has to speak to us, she puts her hands together (as in prayer) about waist high, and bows as she says goodbye, tells me to buy more Ajax or thanks me for the Christmas bonus.

Both Elma and Amala are wonderful. We’ve known Elma longer, so we feel more comfortable with her. But we are grateful for both of them. Oh, I almost forgot, Aidan, our grandson LOVES Elma, he follows her from room to room watching her work as she coos softly in to him in Spanish.

We Had A Storm!

Hmmm! If we hadn't been in Paris this fall, we might not have recognized this stuff -- RAIN!

The weather forecast called for a "monster" storm and we were skeptical.

It was suppossed to start on Thursday and continue right through Monday, maybe Tuesday. But Thursday came and went, nothing. Friday morning was cloudy, no rain. We left Manhattan Beach and headed to Carlsbad for a family activity. Missed the rain on the drive down.

We had some rain and wind in San Diego, nothing serious. We drove home on Saturday late afternoon and had a few sprinkles. By this time, we were convinced that this was another storm that was blown completely out of proportion by all the TV weather guys who just want something to talk about.

That is, until we pulled into the driveway. Our huge, 25 year old bougainvillea had blown over and was completely blocking the driveway.

So, our apologies to the weather guys. There was plenty of storm for us.

Niki de Saint Phalle

This always makes me happy

Celebrating On New York Time - Happy New Year?

I've heard this twice in two days, so it much be a trend. I'm amazed at how many things like this pass me by when I'm in France. New books, fun girl things. I have to try harder to stay current!

People are having New Year's parties this year and celebrating the New Year on New York time. So, in California, that's 9 PM. In Houston, where my sister will celebrate, it's a little better at 11 PM. In Hawaii, they're still at the beach.

I'm torn. Is this good?

I personally don't/can't stay up until midnight. I didn't even stay up to see 2000 in. Usually I can hear enough noise in the street that I know it's midnight. So, tomorrow night, when I'm watching the news or reading my book, I'll hear all the celebrating at 9 and it will be completely quiet at midnight unless there's some other person out there who didn't hear about the newest trend.

At The Cluny

This is me at the Cluny museum, one of my favorites. This picture was taken a few years ago. I can tell because I'm carrying the ever-present California water bottle over my shoulder. I've given this up now, both in the US and in France.

The Perfect Black Patent Leather Shoes

The perfect black patent leather shoes are in Paris and I'm in LA.

They are the only ones I can wear with "those" black pants.

Now, I remember that I left them in Paris, hoping to keep my luggage to a reasonable weight (Terry can thank me later). Shoes and books are the most weighty items that always get "put back" when the bag becomes unmanageable.

So, I can picture the perfect black shoes sitting in my closet in Paris, waiting for me to return to them. A lot of good that does me...

The Shorties

These are "the shorties," Ralph and Chloe.

Chloe is "la zen chienne" calm, willing to obey, happy.

Ralph, on the other hand, is a small atomic bomb -- running, jumping, barking, whining and checking on everyone and everything.

Can you tell who is who?



Here they are when they were still tame.

The Joke's On Me

We were in the process of signing up for membership at the Tennis Club du 16eme. The head pro, Yann, was describing the various benefits and rules of the club, including how to reserve a court, the tennis pros, etc.

He then mentioned that everyone gets one “jocaire” per week. I understood from his description that this means a “wild card." You get to reserve a court one time per week by phone using your “jocaire." He keeps using the word “jocaire” and smiling at me after he says it. I smile back, but I have no idea what this word actually means. I write it down just as it pronounced, "JOCAIRE." Then, I wait until the meeting is winding down.

When I finally get my chance, I ask Yann to spell “jocaire” so I can look it up in the dictionary when I get home. Like a well-choreographed dance, everyone in the room swivels their heads in unison toward me as Yann gently explains (this is all in French, of course), “This is an English word." Someone spells it for me in English – Joker. So, the joke’s on me (once again).

Me-A-Me

I heard people talking about a fabulous place, Me-A-Me. It sounded like a new boutique and I was interested. Listening closer, I couldn’t tell where this great new store was located, so I ask. Alors, it’s in la Floride! Florida! Hmmm! This still doesn’t hit me for a moment, but then it becomes all too clear -- Me-A-Me is the French pronunciation of Miami.

I Only Take Credit Cards and Checks

Standing in a long line at Monoprix, part of my life in Paris.

When I finally get to the cashier, she says to me, "je prends que CB et cheques," roughly translated, this means, “I only take credit cards and checks." Panicked that I will have to get in the back of another long line, I say “what” about 5 times to her. She answers with the same phrase each time.

Finally, the woman behind me explains that the cashier cannot take cash. Why the cashier couldn't say "I can't take cash" is just another french mystery that I'll probably never be able to solve.

Odile's Crepes

Odile makes the best crepes.

They are light, a little sweet, a little salty nicely browned. She has given them to us twice, quite a treat. They are always in a neat tin with a drawing on the lid.

I have the recipe, but I think there is some kind of "Odile magic" that I won't be able to replicate, the secret something that makes them perfect.

So, it's taken me all day

Just to figure out how to get a picture into this page. I still can't figure out how to get it into the header. Maybe tomorrow.

This is a picture of me at the Luxembourg Gardens in early November. All the leaves were turning color. Yellow, orange, red, brown. There were huge piles of them all over. Crews of gardeners were trimming all the chestnut trees, replanting the winter flowers and blowing the leaves around. It was beautiful. I think fall is the most beautiful time of year in Paris. It's dramatic, a bit sad, dark most of the time.

Luxembourg Gardens, Fall 2007