Slurp with Blurb

I am slurping.
Slurping what?
Slurping my blog.

Huh?

Blurb is a self publishing website that has slurp technology that sucks your blog entries into a book format. You can then redesign the layout to just how you want it and then order a printed version.

If you are reading this then chances are you're a blogger. Have you slurped your blog yet?

I am just doing the Paris section now but have already slurped other portions of Picklechatter into hardcover heaven.

Effective Immediately!

New rule peeps.

If I step on one of your motherfucking legos while trying to cross my living room with an armful of laundry, the piece is a gonner. This rule goes into effect immediately regardless of the fact that you are at school and can't be here to put said piece where it freaking belongs. Shoulda done that in the first place. Stipulations of new rule do not allow for negotiations, exceptions or grace periods. Even if the piece is a critical part to a Star Wars ship.

Sincerely,
Management

Where is the joy?

HOPE.

The seemingly inexhaustible four letter word used during last year’s presidential campaign. It is what this nation needed then and it is what this nation is still trying to find now. Our world has never seen a convergence of crises like our current state of affairs and while many people claim we are on the upswing of this recession/housing crisis/financial meltdown, we seem to be in that period of time where things will continue to get worse before they get better. A year ago our nation overwhelmingly chose the one who promised change because frankly, no one was happy. In my part of the world there seems to be a pall cast over the community and at times, business owners in our little hamlet post signs that simply read “smile.” But what is the relationship between hope and happiness? It seems to be a chicken and an egg problem. Is hope born out of a state of happiness or is joy a byproduct of being hopeful?

The October 10th -16th, 2009 issue of the Economist had an interesting article titled “Hating what you do”. It certainly caught my eye, not that I could ever say I hate what I do because, I am, at the moment, going about the business of raising my beautiful children. There is undeniable joy in watching two young people sprout their wings and expand their minds. However, being a stay-at-home mother does not hold the same allure it once did for me. Now that both my children are in school full-time, and the prospect of adopting our third child is turning to dust after 4 years of waiting, I have more time to reflect on my life. What defines my life? Honestly? Laundry. Grocery shopping. Hunting for pants long enough and shoes wide enough for these growing children. I am no longer the mainstay in the budding growth of my babies’ minds or solely responsible for keeping them moving. They have their teachers and PE instructors now leading the charge each day. So where am I? Truthfully, I’m a bit lost.

About a year ago, on a three-day weekend in Vermont over Columbus Day, I realized I was desperate to go back to work. I loved working and left my career as a meeting and event planner because, for as well as I could plan the events of other people’s lives, I could not execute the expansion of my own family. After too much time trying to conceive, I realized that my job, the travel, and the demands of my clients could be possibly contributing to the failure to do the one thing in life I knew I was born to do – become a mother.

So certain in my conviction that I would thrive as a stay-at-home mother, I left no inroads, no ties, back to my career as a meeting and event planner. I didn’t burn any bridges but I didn’t keep my toes wet either. Nine years later I find myself with a big bowl of regret each morning after I drop my kids off at school. I have been sending out resumes for 12 months now but jobs in my field are far and few between. When they do pop up, my 9-year employment gap and I can’t compete with the fresh twenty-somethings with current experience. I am not saying I am not fresh. I am. Probably more in the language department but nonetheless, I am smart, creative, and hardworking. But my downfall is that I know more about the shoe selection at Target than what is going on now in hotel contract negotiation. So while I don’t HATE what I do, I connect with this article’s description of how the feeling of stagnation can demoralize people to the point of lower productivity and a higher level of resentment. If you examine the internal state of any company these days I am sure you will find that the level of unhappiness amongst its employees is taking a toll not only on morale, but also the level of productivity and perhaps the quality of work.

Like in any relationship, there has to be a free flowing, two-way street of give and take. We’ve all been in that relationship where one person does all the giving while the other person does all the taking. Those relationships don’t work out very well, do they? The giver finally gives up when the well of generosity runs dry because it isn’t being replenished with gratitude, care, or love from the other half of the relationship. This equation is not just reserved for personal relationships but can be used to describe the worker/employer relationship as well. When you are feeling taken advantage of, used up, or under-valued, the bonds of that relationship are going to weaken and, in many cases, snap. I believe this is what is going on all over the world at work and at home.

People lucky enough to have a job have had enough of feeling used up and under-valued. Bonuses have been cut, salaries lowered, jobs eliminated, promotions delayed, and hiring frozen. Yet the cost of living still continues to rise. How can people not be stressed out when their family’s means for life has at best stayed level and at the worst evaporated, while the cost of food, clothing, and heating your home keeps going up? Add to that, non-profit organizations are still vying for your charitable dollars and volunteer organizations are still hounding you for your time. I think most people feel pecked to death by the end of the day. Where is the joy in that?

At the moment, in my jobless state, I am a co-President of the PTO for my children’s school. We are having an incredibly difficult time trying to engage a stable base of volunteers for our events and programs this year. From what I heard at this week’s district-wide PTO meeting, it is a problem across the entire town. Where are the volunteers? Well according to an article in October 15th’s Boston Globe, “Many parents report volunteer-related angst. Among the worries, taking on too much and doing a lousy job - or taking on too little and becoming the object of gossip.“ I found the article to be a puff piece with little value, because while it acknowledged the economy as a contributing factor to the difficulty in securing volunteers, it focused on social implications as being the main cause. The truth of the matter is that when people can barely do for themselves, they certainly do not have the funds, energy or drive to do for others. It’s that simple.

So where on the merry-go-round of life do we find happiness and hope? Does one come before the other? Or do they co-exist? My guess would be the latter and right now in this country, and in most countries across the globe, we are in a state where without one, we don’t have the other. As the world gets back on track and people feel more safe and secure, I am sure we will see the clouds of despair dissipate.

The plane is hot. it is a 3 and 3 and we are sitting window, middle, aisle, aisle like we normally do on these kinds of planes. Boarding is a rush. Our family, squashed between men in suits making their way from Paris to Frankfurt on this Friday afternoon in October, seems misplaced in the priority boarding line. All four of us carrying more that the maximum weight in carry -on luggage but hoping that our smiling faces and daddy's mega-frequent-flyer status will get us through unnoticed.

The plane leaves on time. Our excessive carry-ons went undetected. We back up from the gate and roll uninterrupted to the runway, make a 90 degree turn and as my children amuse the other passengers with their countdown from 10, the engines go full throttle and we are off. After 14 years, SJ knows to drop his hand from his paper to grab mine as we lift off into the partly cloudy skies above Paris. The children ooohh and aaaahh over the birds-eye view of the city they have come to love. I, and likely SJ, have come to terms with our departure. He quietly releases my hand and goes back to his paper. I fetch my trusty notebook from my backpack and I write him a note. Torn from a spiral binding and folded in half, it reads,

It was more than I ever dreamed it would be.

Paris is magical. It will suck you in if you let it. Up until now I hadn't let it penetrate my soul like other cities have. But now, after 3 months, I have fallen prey to the charms of the city of lights. The sights and sounds of our city rest comfortably in my heart, I hope forever.

The people at SJ's office asked the whole family to come to the office yesterday for a casual farewell. We toasted with Veuve Cliquot. They gave us gifts. All of us. They gave the kids books in French and more French candy than 3 halloweens put together. And for me? The coveted cookbook from Laduree which is a testament to how well these strangers got to know ME. Me, the spouse. Their kindness and generosity has admittedly overwhelmed me. I thoroughly enjoy each and every one of them and would love the chance to know them better.

SJ has closed his eyes as he does on most flights. For all appearances this could be one of our usual domestic flights in the US. But it is not. It is a flight that is taking us far away from some place we have grown to cherish. A place we feel more at home than we do when we are at home. As sad as I am to leave, I can't help but acknowledge the tremendous feeling of gratitude that rests in my soul.

Melancholy

Finally we succumb to Le Hippopotamus. A restaurant in Paris renowned for being family friendly - complete with balloons. I avoided it like the plague.

But having checked 9 bags all over the weight limit without even a bat of an eye from the Lufthansa check-in guy and in typical SJ fashion he decided to push his luck and ask to check a 10th. Pas de problem says the man and takes SJ's carry-on that he didn't need, slapped a tag on it and tossed it down the conveyor belt. So after all that, we decided to have a sit-down lunch and the only option was Le Hippo. Burgers for everyone except maman who had her last chevre chaud. A green salad with a piece of toast holding warm chevre cheese.

When the boys excused themselves to use the loo before the food and wine arrived, I get a chance to talk to my very quiet daughter. She is drawing on the back of a receipt. I ask her what she is drawing and she replies that it is a picture of people sleeping in China. China for us is a very sad subject and only comes up when someone is feeling volny. What is volny I hear you ask? it is a bridge between the words vulnerable and lonely a few of us made up on a study abroad program in Florence while in college. Anyway, as she sat there concentrating a little too hard on a simple drawing on the back of a receipt I asked her if she knew what melancholy meant. She shook her head. I explained that it was a feeling of sadness that envelops you without making you feel like you need to cry. She looked up at me with bright eyes and said "yes, that's me right now. You are the crying sad." Now if you know me in person you probably are chuckling to yourself as you read this. I am a weeper. Waterworks, I am. Nevertheless, France, Paris, Pezenas, le TGV, le Thalys, London, Monceau, Bastille, Notre Dame, Le Tour Eiffel have all left an indelible mark on my baby girl and her melancholy is my pride. I hope to have set the stage for a wonderful life of exploration for my children and for that I would do anything. Even come home.

Packing mayhem

We arrived with the maximum number of bags each at the maximum weight of 23 kilos. I sent one suitcase home with my mother but purchased lots of school clothes amongst all the other souvenirs we now had to get home. Added to that we were trying to get a few (well maybe more than a few) bottles of wine home and now that you can't carry liquids on board, they must go in the checked baggage. I am sure you can get the drift of where this word problem is headed. If you arrive with 9 bags, send 1 home but buy a ton of stuff - how do you get it all back?

We decided to leave a bunch of things that no longer fit or served a purpose or was really that important. Things that didn't make the cut included 1 glass pie plate, 1 glass loaf pan, 2 five lb weights, a boules set, scrapbooking supplies, books we finished reading, my 501 French Verbs book (which I am pissed I have to leave) a few clothes, and a set of sheets.

Still we were stuck with not enough room for everything and we are leaving tomorrow.

Solution: send SPY down to those cheapie suitcase stores by Chatelet in the 1st to buy the largest bag she can find for as little money as possible.

Problem: She's got to be fast because we are to be meeting SJ's officemates for a goodbye champagne toast in 2 hours.

So I am released from the house with my sprinting shoes on. Run to Parc Monceau and hop on line 2 to Etoile where I change to line 1. Ride to Pont Neuf and zip up the escalator. Now if I remember correctly there is an Etam that seemed to have a good sale on of cute clothes and bags which I haven't been able to get into because I always have the kids with me. However, I am alone now....

He will never know if I just zip in there really fast right?

So at 10 am just as I arrive, Etam opens their doors and I do a mega fast shopping sprint which results in 1 handbag, 2 shirts and a really cute scarf.

Etam bag in hand, I then sprint down a few blocks to the cheapy bag store and purchase a huge but cheap suitcase. Toss the Etam bag in the suitcase and dash back to the metro. I look at my watch and it is now 11:15 and I still have to get home for us to get to SJ's office by Noon. I guess my shopping excursion at Etam was not as mega-fast as I thought. But I think I am okay. I call SJ and fudge things a bit and say that I am about to board line 1 back home but am actually still a few blocks from the metro. A little white lie never hurt anyone and he'd never know. So as I am dashing back to Pont Neuf I decided to take a sidestreet cut-through to save some time when I spot a store called Darty. I chuckle to myself at who would name a store Darty and what could they possibly sell. As I am flying by the windows I look in and see that Darty looks surprisingly like a Best Buy. And as I am thinking that it looks like a Best Buy I realize that at home Best Buy stores sell iTunes gift cards. Remember my little unresolved quest a few weeks ago for that French iTunes card?

My head is now spinning. I don't have time. I don't have time. I found myself saying as I turned around and walked or rather ran into the Darty store.

Luckily I catch a cute guy's eye as I dash into the store and I say "Bonjour Monsieur, vendez vous des cartes cadeaux pour iTunes?" Instead of a blank stare, I got a smile and a "oui, madame jusque la" and he points me in the right direction. I head to the desk and ask a lovely woman for the iTunes card and she asks which amount did I want to buy. In my head right now I am thinking OMG after all this time, at the very last minute, I am finding someone who will sell me this damn thing!!! I explain to her that I had been searching all over Paris for the iTunes card and no one suggested I go to a Darty store. I then explained why I was buying it and I got a french nod of well done, skirting the system!

So, now really behind in time I dart off to the metro and luckily I am blessed with trains arriving just as I walk onto the platform. I get home in 15 minutes just as SJ is hopping in the shower. He looks at me and the suitcase (which is hiding the Etam bag) and I say that I was late because I found a store that sold me an iTunes card!!! He smiled and said "good for you!" and closed the bathroom door. I then quickly removed the Etam bag, tookout all the contents and quickly packed my covert purchase so he'd never know! Before he got out of the shower, all evidence of my Etam diversion was erased including the shopping bag.

We were half an hour late to the office but after a glass of Veuve Cliquot and some munchies nothing mattered.


PS: When we got home, I changed into my sexy SPY trench coat and logged into my computer as Angelique Belgique. Quiet as a church mouse I head over to my iTunes account and enter the code on the iTunes card I bought this morning. Then, in a miracle of all miracles, I bought the music we heard on the 14th of July at the Eiffel Tower concert.

UPDATE: Back in the U.S. when I loggin to the Angelique user on my computer the iTunes account is still linked to iTunes.fr. SCORE!!

A visitor

This last week in Paris has been difficult. I have never been good at goodbyes. Is anyone really? I doubt it. Add to that I am a weepy person who is sentimental about nearly everything. Knowing that this week will eventually end, and I will in fact have to board a flight, which will leap into the air and take me away from here, has made how I look at the city come sharply into focus. At every turn I am struck by her beauty and grace. Even though I have been living on her streets for 12 weeks now, I continue to be enchanted by her sounds and smells. This is a city for those who truly love to live and to some extent, live to love.

My children, who have now grown annoyed with my teary eyes, have started to advise me that, Paris isn't going anywhere and that we can always come back to visit. Well, see, that is the thing. I don't want to come back to visit. I don't want to be a visitor. I like being one of her people. Her residents. A person with a key, and address, a boulangerie she likes and a fromagerie she loves.

At the age of 20 I lived in Florence, Italy for 3 months with an Italian family I came to adore. Franca, my Italian house mother took me in with the kind of Italian fervor you would expect. She wanted to help me understand what it was like to be Italian and worked on my language skills with me, gave me hugs when I needed them, and cooked me food that I will never forget. Everything she does comes from a heart the size of Texas.

If you have ever been to Florence you know that the city has a beauty that will enchant you. Not just the buildings, but the people, the food, the sounds, sights, and smells everywhere. When I had to leave that December in 1992, I remember crossing town on foot to the Santa Maria Novella train station. I was in love with Florence the way people are in love with each other. But with my full heart and my eyes leaking, I thought to myself, I will always have her. Florence will always be my city. I will bring my husband here. I will bring my children here. When I come back I will feel this again.

In 1999 I brought my husband to Florence on our first vacation as a married couple after our honeymoon. In 2002 I came back with our then 5 month old Sweet Pea. It was never the same. I looked around at the swarms of tourists I used to cut through to get to my classes all those years ago and thought to myself, Oh my God, I am one of them. I am a tourist. I am here visiting, not living.

You see, there is a difference. I am happy to have had the experiences in life to know this, but at the same time, this last week in Paris is a bit scary for me because I know when I come back I will be one of them. A visitor.

On Wednesday day nights we often will head to the Louvre for a Nocturne visit. Their evening hours. The crowds are fewer and the admission charge is lower. On this last Nocturne visit, we came into the courtyard of the Palais Royal from a different direction. We came in the back way and this was our view. It was dusk and the clouds were amazing. I just stood there and let the view seep into my soul. Then I reached for my camera to take these pictures of my family enjoying their beloved Louvre for the last time on this trip.

Day at the Museum: Part 34

Le Penseur......

Boom, Boom, Fire Power!

The gardens at the Musee Rodin are beautiful as you can see. They are calm and peaceful with a big wall that surrounds them shutting out the noise and chaos of the city. The only hint of Paris is when you look up and see the rising Eiffel Tower which resides quite nearby.

A special thanks goes out to all Paris museums for helping engage my children with the magnificent treasures this city holds. As you can see below, my kids go to museums and look. They look at the objects and art and think. Here Sweet Pea is listening to the audio guide chapter on Rodin's Gates of Hell bronze doors while Buddy is using the telescope to find the miniature Thinker at the top of the doors.

Oh yeah, and also for letting us ALL in for free this time. Apparently anyone with a child under 7 gets in free to the gardens. The entire group - no matter the size. How cool is that?

Life imitating art...

After we toured the gardens we walked back in the direction of our bus stop and grabbed some dejeuner a emporter (take away) and then did a quick scan to find a parc to eat in. This is what we found. This is the view from my parc bench seat. There is never a shortage of open spaces to sit and relax in Paris.

Then a quick stop at Parc Monceau on the way home so Buddy could climb the tree.

Conkers

Have you ever noticed that the trees, of the tree lined streets of Paris are Chestnut trees? Come September all those beautiful trees drop their nuts all over the parks and boulevards in this beautiful city. Children and adults alike can't help but reach down and collect these beautiful brown nuggets. Each day we came home with thousands of them and they started to take over the apartment. That was until SJ said these magic words...Hey, do you guys know how to play conkers? The three of us looked blankly back at him and he got the picture that we had never even heard of conkers. After a quick explanation, I was instructed to go secure string and a tool to punch holes in the chestnuts. So one day while out on the town, we stop in at the hardware section of BHV - the everything store in the 1st - one day while SJ is at work. We get our goods and on this Sunday morning, SJ enlightens us on what is apparently a common British pastime. So common that there are hundreds of competitions all over England at this time of year. Some take it so seriously that they feel the need to create new rules to prevent cheating. However, it does seem by a few accounts, that it is a dwindling past time and that the youth of the UK is not as keen on the game as were the generations that came before them. Well, in an effort to buck that trend, SJ has educated at least two little Brits who were born in the US but now residing in Paris.

So, how to play the game? Each choose a conker - a chestnut. And choose wisely. You want a strong one that promises not crack under the pressure of this game. literally.

Use a thin nail to hammer a whole through the nut. Thread a string through the hole and tie a strong knot on the other side large enough to hold the chestnut on the string.

Then, my advice would be to encourage your players to take it outside!
Each player takes a turn trying to whack the other player's nut with their nut. So the person being hit holds their string upright and very still. The hitter then takes his best swing with the nut and tries to hit the opponent's nut hard enough to break.

If you are the one holding the string to be hit and you drop your conker, your opponent gets a second try. So hold tight!

Once a nut has been hit, inspections are made to see if it is still intact enough to continue.

The game is played until all but one person's conker has been broken to bits and can no longer remain on its string.

If the winner's conker is still in great shape they will realize this is a strong nut and will keep it for future competitions. As SJ said, some conkers have histories.

In this three-way game, Buddy was the first to be eliminated. Then it seemed that each time SJ thwacked Sweet Pea's conker it was his that cracked, not hers.

So in the end, Sweet Pea was victorious and we have kept her winning conker for future games.

Just when we thought we'd seen it all...

Today marks the beginning of the end. With only 6.5 days left, we know it will be all business from here on out. Souvenirs have to be shopped for, last stops to museums have to be scheduled, and of course, each meal will be a last supper of sorts.

This morning we decided to start with the beautiful market road of Rue Montorgueil near Les Halles. Most of Paris shuts down pretty hard on Sundays. Most retailers, including grocers, are closed on this day of worship except in the very high traffic shopping areas. Rue Montorgueil is one of the few areas in town that is in full swing on Sundays. This particular day at the end of September was beautifully sunny and warm. We came to this area of town because momma needed to do some recon work in regards to what souvenirs she was bringing home. No t-shirts or sweatshirts for me. It was cooking equipment all the way! So I wanted to take a swing by stores like Mora and E. Dehillerin on the off chance they were open today. We took the metro from Malesherbes to Reaumur Sebastopol and then walked through the Les Halles pedestrian district to Rue Montorgeuil where we decided to have lunch at one of its bustling cafes. We found one that suited us because it was not terribly expensive and its outdoor tables were well enough in the shade to allow us to be comfortable. The kids and SJ had a burger while I enjoyed some wine and a small salad. The food was delicious but it was the atmosphere that made the meal. The quiet banter of the French couples around was a sound I was desperately trying to etch into my memory. Most of them were here having a brunch of sorts and there was a mix of couples, guys clearly having been out late last night and women enjoying a birthday celebration. We ate our lunch and lingered over wine while we watched Paris stroll by. There was a man across the street selling saucission sec and fromage while playing a game of chess with anyone who would play. Each time I looked up he seemed lost in concentration on his next move and his opponent was different from the last time I glanced in their direction. It seemed that people would stop to play for a few moves and then move on themselves. It was probably how this gentleman passed his sundays each week and perhaps his opponents were regulars.

This is the sweet cafe where we had lunch. During lunch I asked the waiter where I might find the carafe bottles he used to serve water. He thought for a minute and told me there was a restaurant supply store nearby named Simon and I should try there.

Since the end of the French vacance which lasts from about August 1 - August 31, Paris has seemed to throw out one celebratory event after another. First there were all sorts of things going on to mark La Rentree which technically means the start of school but I like to joke that it really means the reentering of life after a month of vacation. Then we had the weekend of La Patrimoine which was a gold mine for anyone wanting back stage access to all of Paris' landmarks. This weekend is a two-day garden festival where all of the Jardins in Paris are holding events. We decided it would be a good weekend to head to Les Jardins des Plants so we crossed the park that sits between Les Halles and Chatelet to get to the bus stop we needed to head to Les Jardins des Plants. When possible, I like to travel above ground. Half way across the park we noticed a crazy looking section with steep concrete paths, grottos, and wooden bridges. We decided to check it out and it turned out to be a crazy kids maze/playground that was for children 7 and up. It was open just for the Festival des Jardins this weekend. The kids gave us that pleading look of Can I? Can I? So we said have at it and they bolted in yelling follow us! Well easier said then done. I was in high heals trying to negotiate steep, narrow concrete paths and follow the children through open mouths of alligators and into tunnels.

Take a peek at our little mid-afternoon adventure. Looks like fun, doesn't it!?!

ADMINISTRATIVE NOTE
To my 3.5 readers who have been faithfully following my blog all summer I just wanted to warn you about a few things.

1. I dropped my computer a few days ago and feared the worst. After dragging the children to an "Apple" store here in Paris (and I put it in quotes because there really are NO Apple stores here in Paris. There are Premium Apple Resellers who hide out and are damned hard to find) only to burn out more than a few brain cells trying to figure out a) what condition the computer was now in and b) what in fact to do about it in FRENCH, I discovered that it is just the screen that is damaged - the hard drive and its contents are a-ok.

2. A special thanks goes out to my mother who scoured the internet to find this Premium Apple Reseller. Though the days of her scolding me are over, I did get a tisk-tisk from 6000 miles away for not having backed up my photos from the trip. yup. You heard that right, I did not back up a single picture from our 3 months in Paris and my mother rightfully gave me her motherly advice that PHOTOS NEED TO BE STORED IN AT LEAST 2 PLACES!! While she did use my first name after doling out said advice, she did not use my middle name so I think I am good. Nevertheless, I am a moron for not backing up these precious memories and once I knew that the hard drive was in good shape, and that the screen could actually be seen in very bright sunlight, I ran straight to Monoprix for CDs and backed up all my pictures. All 2300 of them.

3. Like any computer obsessed person, I have more than one. I have an older Mac laptop here with us as well so I have been transferring info back and forth between the two computers however, the old one is so old that some of the software doesn't work all that well. I am managing. Email can be received but won't send out. Internet works only if plugged into the ethernet. But the photos are safe and we are coming home on Friday so I will manage.

4. And for a small programming note- this blog is being used mostly as a trip journal. I am thrilled people have joined along with me by reading it all. I haven't always had time to post things when they actually happened so I've done some catching up. I back-date the posts to the day they actually happened so if you have been casually reading the blog you may want to go back to see if there are posts you might have missed because I added them much later. This post will be dated for today, Sunday September 27th but I have to add things that happened last week right before the crash and will back date them so they will appear below this post even though they have been added after.

a bientot mes amis.

MERDE !!!!

Last evening after spending some quality time with my children at a cafe doing homework, I found myself in a pile of poo. As we got up to leave, I dropped my precious laptop. hard. When I returned to the apartment and opened it up I found no image - nothing. Nearly vomiting over the thought that all the pictures stored on the computer were now lost, I calmed myself down with a bit of vin and a phone call to my mother.

Today, I spent the morning at an Apple Premium Reseller trying to figure out just how bad the damage was. I discovered that while the screen is pretty much dead, I am not in as much poo as I thought. The hard drive was in good shape and I hope to have some options when I get home and can speak to an Apple person in ENGLISH.

Musee Jaquemart Andre...who? what?

This is a preserved 19th century mansion on Boulevard Haussmann in the 8th in Paris. We can walk here from our apartment by crossing through Parc Monceau. This museum just opened a much anticipated small show with Bruegel, Van Eyke, and Memling and the first week the line was impossible so we waited a bit. Today we sailed right in and in typical Parisian fashion, Buddy was free, and they had all sorts of activities for the children to do inside the museum. The permanent collection is the preserved contents of Edouard André and his wife Nélie Jacquemart's home. Their collection of 18th century antiques and art is out of this world. They were apparently insanely wealthy and just traveled around Europe buying things to bring back home. Oh the life!





They had a passion for dutch art so it was appropriate for the musee to host this small show of very important northern european work. The entire afternoon was a treat and the kids really enjoyed seeing how people lived a long time ago. In the summer you can bring your kids up here to play dress-up in 18th & 19th century garb. Reason #100289 for why j'adore Paris!

Running in Circles

Even after 3 months here I still get a chuckle over the fact that french women actually wear the trite french beret. I think they look so silly but whatever.

Here is a photo shoot outside Gucci we happened upon after getting sandwiches at Paul and looking for a parc bench to cool our heals.

Sweet Pea happens to love the beret, but....

...the purple fur on this model is totally strange and why would anyone wear something that ugly. Phew! At least she's not into purple fur. She's almost 8 so that could have gone either way.


Really we had not intended to lunch outside Gucci on the Champs Elysees. But once again, I have become as flaky as a croissant au beurre. Left the SD card sitting in the card reader and god dammit, I wasn't going to miss another day of pictures. We were going to Le Palais de Decouvert and if we were going to Decouvert things I wanted photographic evidence! So after getting off the bus at La Place de La Concorde, we walked up the Champs to the Virgin store and got a new SD card. And, as a bonus, I found that the 2010 edition of Paris Pas Cher was now out and I snapped up a copy of that as well. Paris Pas Cher is a great little book of how to survive in Paris without doing permanent injury to your wallet. Unfortunately, it only comes out every 2 years and the 2008 edition was no where to be found. These books sell like hot cakes and are hard to find so alas, I was thrilled to get my grubby little mitts on the 2010 edition.

While I was there, I asked whether Virgin sold les cartes cadeaux pour iTunes. Have I mentioned this little iTunes gift card hunt yet? Okay so the long and short of it is that good old Apple has created a Berlin wall around each of its country specific iTunes sites. So, me with my American iTunes account (established in the US with a US address and a US credit card) can troll all I want through iTunes.fr (the french side) but when I go to make a purchase I am told I don't have purchasing privileges on iTunes.fr and that I need to go back to my side of the playground. So I do. But can I find the stuff I found on iTunes.fr on iTunes.us? Nope. So what's a girl to do when her bambini are chirping for her to buy them the song they heard on le 14 Juillet at the concert on the Champs de Mars. Well I could go to FNAC and buy the Christophe Mae disc for 25 euros which is something close to $40. Or I could try to snake through the system and establish a French iTunes account.

Enter Angelique Belgique. She's a smokin' hot spy, dressed in a beige trench coat cinched at the waist wearing black stiletto heals and not much else under the coat. The boy at the desk of the internet cafe was disarmed by her red lipstick, smoky eyes and the scent of her perfume as she walked past to sit down in a back room with her sleek laptop. With cunning intellect, Angelique Belgique creates a new user on her computer and establishes a new iTunes account which of course is linked to iTunes.fr because she lives in Paris. Her plan is only foiled when she reaches the page where she must enter her French credit card or an iTunes credit voucher number. She does not have a French credit card and now must scour the streets of Paris for an iTunes gift card.

Okay so Angelique Belgique is not a spy but was one of my names at French camp. And yes, I did create another user on iTunes linked to iTunes.fr but finding this damn iTunes gift card thingy was proving to be crazy difficult. There are no Apple stores here only Premium Resellers and they are wicked hard to find. So the lady at the desk at Virgin directed me to SFR, a phone retailer here who carries the iPhone. So off I go to the other side of the Champs where I am told at SFR to go to Orange, another phone store. I go to Orange and they tell me that FNAC definitely sells them. So I go to FNAC and they tell me to go to SFR. Okay, we're done with this for today. So off we go to Paul, grab a few sandwiches, actually get to see someone use a Cheque Dejeuner, and then find the model outside Gucci while we eat our lunch.

So now that it is well into the afternoon, the kids and I head to the Palais de Decouvert for some sciencey sort of fun. It is a great place to take kids while in Paris, and like I have said here before, Paris is a fantastic place to bring your children. So, please do.

The museum is divided into different scientific sections. Earth science, Physics, Chemistry etc. The kids are standing in front of a Marine Life exhibit that was much prettier than it appears here in the pictures.

This was part of the museum dedicated to the study of space. There were your usual planets, stars, dark room - you know the bit. Except here in France they have added something extra special, and so very French. Below are pictures of the kids enjoying what was called an artistic interpretation of what it would be like to be in space.

So as you can see from the picture below, this science museum is located in an architecturally magnificent setting.

Other things we saw here include a live demonstration on how frogs choose their food, rats in a maze at what they call L'Ecole des Rats, lightning, and a demonstration of the power of magnetic forces. Every 30 minutes there is a live demonstration in each of the sections of the museum. It does help to know a bit of French but not totally required to get what is going on. I did a bit of translating for the kids but by-in-large they got the gist of what they were seeing. The kids also got to play on all sorts of hands on stuff in the Physics section but we missed the demos in the Chem lab which Sweet Pea really wanted to see.

On y va tous!

Continued from yesterday's start to the annual Journees du Patrimoine, day two proved to be just as wonderful AND I remembered to put the SD card back in my camera!!!

So today we hit the trail by taking the bus to Gare du Nord which basically goes from our street, past Le Moulin Rouge and to the train station. We decided to do this because we could then check out the line at Le Moulin without getting off the bus and then if we didn't get off we'd grab the metro at GdN. As we passed through Pigalle, we saw that the line was even longer than yesterday so we kept on riding. We changed to another bus at GdN which took us straight down into the 5th. However, on this ride we got to go through one of the old city Ports. These are, what Sweet Pea likes to call, Mini-Arc de Triomphs. They are where the old city gates were located when there were fortresses protecting the city. In the 11th there are two - Port St. Denis and Port St. Martin (there was one at the Bastille but it is no longer there- it was what was turned into the prision). A taxi driver explained to me that the road that leads one into the city through a port is called Faubourg and once you cross into the city through the Port it loses the Faubourg and becomes a Rue. For instance, on the bus this morning we traveled from the Gare into the main part of the city on Faubourg St. Martin but once we passed through Port St. Martin, the road became Rue St. Martin. Especially in our old hood of the 11th you will see lots of Faubourgs and if you come to Paris , keep an eye out for roads to change from Faubourg to Rue and you will know where there were once city gates!

Okay I digress....

So we were off to score a visit to the Pantheon and the Sorbonne. And we did. And it was again, all free. If you ever come to Paris during this celebration, all you have to do is wander the streets and you will see so many buildings open welcoming visitors. You don't even need a plan. Just wander and duck into as many buildings as you can. So much fun!

Here is the Pantheon. A tomb for some of France's most important people.

Joan of Arc lies here amongst some other very famous people in French history.

Aside from the cool dead people, the architecture is amazing!

Down to the crypt for more dead people....

like Voltaire.....

Marat......

who was Marat you may ask? Are you familiar with this painting by David? An important painting depicting the murder of Jean-Paul Marat, a popular writer/spokesperson during the French Revolution.

Kids in the crypt.

Upon leaving the Pantheon, this is what you see. Hello! Beautiful!

And now off to show the kids where they will be attending University.

Scepters representing the different academic departments of the school.

The quad so to speak.

After the Sorbonne, we went to St. Chapelle and Le Palais de Justice.

And then finally a late afternoon coffee break with of course the requisite French sweet treat!

Quel Bonheur!!!!

I have realized part of the reason I am just so not ready to leave Paris is because there is always something going on. There is always more art to see, food to eat, and life to experience here. And just when you think you have covered it all, they bring in more. Amongst so much else, we did the Louvre over 3 visits, finally managed to get into the D'Orsay, will get to the Rodin museum today or tomorrow so we are feeling pretty good about having covered Paris.

Well that is until you find out some tiny obscure museum up here in the 17th has just opened a Bruegel, Memling, and Van Eyke show and I happen to love all three. And the Louvre has a Titian, Tinteretto, Veronese show that opened last week and seems quite similar to the MFA show that just closed which I happened to have missed. Seems as though the Louvre brought it in especially for me! And oh yeah, the Renoir exhibit that opens today at the Gallerie National du Grand Palais. YIKES. What is a girl to do with only 10 days left.

Well even if I go home having missed a few things, I can at least feel good that I didn't miss Les Journees du Patrimoine! Two days each September the country takes pride in its national heritage and opens up government buildings and discounts museums so everyone has a chance to see the treasures that are here in France. Quel bonheur pour nous! This morning we were off and running and hit so many sights we were dizzy by the end. There were a few long lines but most places were free and we hit some places that just are not regularly open to the public. Whoohoo!

For the first time ever, Le Moulin Rouge decided to participate and let people backstage and into the costuming area. We tried both days and each time we went by the line was 3-4 blocks long. As fabulous as it might have been to see the inner workings of such an illustrious venue, we would have waited in line all day and missed so much more. So we skipped it.

Today we metro'ed to Pigalle and upon finding the line at Le Moulin, we headed to the Starbucks across the street - I know - horror of horrors when in Paris but it was early and we had bolted the apartment without coffee. We then walked to a nearby parc, drank the coffee while the kids played and then realizing how many people were in line at Le Moulin Rouge we leapt up and ran to the D'Orsay hoping the line was short. And it was. And it was discounted. And the kids are always free. The weekend's events spread out all the crowds evenly throughout the city so the D'Orsay was pretty quiet. But also, I learned from a new friend I met at Parc Monceau that families are allowed to use the door for special groups. Oui, c'est vrai! I wished I had known all summer that I could jump the queue with my small people. Side note: Paris is perhaps the most kid friendly city I have ever been to. Children are given so many allowances and the French care very much about exposing kids to art and culture so especially in those venues they carry the highest rank of visitor.

Wouldn't you know that of all days to leave your SD card in the card reader attached to your computer it would be this one. After 2.5 hours in the D'Orsay with Sweet Pea impressing people by explaining why Monet painted the same thing over and over with different colors and posing sweetly like the Degas Dancer, we headed off down the left bank in search of food. We ducked into the side streets of the 6th and found a cute little creperie and had galettes, vin, and crepes for lunch. We headed back to the river to walk along the booksellers and when we got to the Pont Neuf we realized that La Monnaie de Paris was open for all to see. This is the location of the old Mint of France. We went in and got a coin made for us using an old coin press and then got to see the oldest coins of France. We learned that coins were first made in Ateliers (workshops) but due to the inconsistancies, they started developing machine presses to make coins. I won't bore you with the rest but it was fantastic.

Then we headed up St. Chapelle but it was very busy so we hit La Consiergerie which is next door. It was part of the original royal residance established by King Clovis in the 6th century. When the royal residance was moved by Charles V in the 14th century and the Consiergerie was used as a prison. Marie-Antoinette was held here after her famous crimes involving cake. So sorry I have no pictures. It was a beautiful crypt type lower level building.

It was nearing the end of the afternoon by now so we headed off to see if we could get into Hotel de Ville which was also open but got lost in the maze of fun stuff for kids on the plaza in front of this magnificant building. There were games and free t-shirts for the kids. Buddy did the climbing wall and his skills provoked the man managing the activity to come over to SJ and ask if Buddy was his son. When SJ beemingly said "Oui", the man launched into a song and dance about how good our littly boy was at climing the wall. We lot lots of hand gestures and eyebrow raising all indicating a very impressed man. I believe a special thanks should go out to our local YMCA!

We gave up on the Hotel de Ville as it was now probably after closing time and we were POOPED!

Borrowed Time

September 18th was the original date we were supposed to head back to the States. We were thrilled when the Company decided to extend the trip by two weeks. Now we are so grateful because frankly we are just not ready to leave this beautiful place. I said to SJ this morning while we were having coffee that today was the original date we were supposed to fly home. He rolled his eyes and did the puffed-cheek blow out thing - a very French way of showing you have just avoided something unpleasant. My little Brit has become just a little bit French. Oh the horrors!

Two weeks from today we do in fact fly home. I am not quite ready to leave this place. I think it took me a while to figure out Paris which is strange because I have been here countless times and even lived in France before. But I think it took traveling to other parts of France and Europe for me to realize how much I love this city. Returning to Paris after a trip away started to feel like coming home for all four of us. Underneath a crusty and often rude exterior there is something inexplicably calm about this city. Its beauty is undeniable. The food is consistently divine. These are points about Paris you cannot argue. Yes, the people are often a struggle to deal with as I pointed out in this post, but I think with time one begins to at least understand what lies beneath the Parisian attitude.

I will leave you with this. The French are often accused of having a narcissistic, Napoleonistic attitude. It is a "French way or bust" kinda deal around here. Anything you can do the French can do better. You get my drift. Next time you find yourself not being able to communicate with a store clerk in your own language in your own country, you might begin to appreciate a country that insists on speaking the mother tongue and using national resources and products as often as possible. This is not to say that I am letting Parisian waiters off the hook but I certainly understand more of the French attitude than I used to.

Oh and that picture above gives some good advice. It is a bit self-serving as it was the bag our morning croissants came in but nonetheless- advice you should follow - at least while in France!

(translation: Eat cakes more often)

(Hey and they are even starting to pick up dog poop lest they get fined!)

French Twist on Food Stamps

Do you see that sticker in the middle there. The big one. The one that says cheque dejeuner? If you took even the remotest amount of French in highschool you should be able to easily translate that to lunch check. And it appears that this restaurant, along with MasterCard and Visa, takes le cheque dejeuner. You see, meal time in France is taken VERY seriously. And with the high cost of food, particularly in Paris, people may need a little help, non? There are people all around the world needing help affording food. The US issues food stamps to those who qualify, so it seems logical that it also happens here in France. There is a wee bit of difference though with le cheque dejeuner. You don't have to be low-income to get le cheque here- all you have to be is gainfully employed. Yes, that's right. If you earn a living, it seems your employer must offer you the right to buy a month's worth of subsidized lunch checks worth 7 euros each. And how much might you have to pay per check you ask???? Two, 2, deux euros! Well at least at SJ's company the employees get to buy les cheques at 2 euros a piece for a 7 euro valued check. They can then take this 7 euro check (that they have ONLY PAID 2 EUROS FOR) to a restaurant like this and get themselves some lunch. So if you do this math you can buy 210 euros worth of food for 60 euros each month. Pas mal, n'est pas?

I may have overstated the eligibility a bit, you not only have to be employed to get these cheques from your employer but you also have to be, well, French.

SJ does not get them. Tant Pis.

Deathstar Canteen

You know how in the morning when you are eating a bagel it really tastes better if you are drinking your coffee with it too? Or when you are having a really good steak you should also be sipping a meaty glass of red wine?

Well to best enjoy the following photo, you should please do the following:
1. go to iTunes
2. Search for Eddie Izzard
3. Find his 4:27 minute bit called the Deathstar Canteen
4. Download and listen to while enjoying this new McDo add here in Paris.

Maggie - this is especially for you!
*see below for embedded version.




*I tried to embed the audio file on my blog but a) it seems you can only play audio files through the 3rd party people if what you want to play is one of their offered selections and b) I find blogs with sound really annoying.

Okay- here goes- I added the soundtrack to the picture in iMovie and tossed it up on YouTube. Let's see if this works.....

Depot-Vente...

means consignment store. So you can imagine my delight when I discovered Paris has les depot-ventes d'enfants. Oui, oui! Enfants!

So here a are a few things I scored for a song just before La rentree (basically the term for back to school but it really means the "re-entering of life after vacance".)


Kick- ass PINK Docs!

A Bonpoint shirt for Sweet Pea....

A chocolate brown velvet Burberry blazer for Buddy.....

and a Petit Bateau rain jacket for Buddy.

Canal St. Martin and the Doomsday Machine....

When you look at this do you not hear the sinister laugh of the lunatic Dreyfus from the Pink Panther movies with Peter Sellers. (Steve Martin should be shot for trying to remake them.) It looks just like the Doomsday Machine he built to "demonstrate his awesome power" in his quest to kill Inspector Clouseau. Chief Inspector Clouseau.

"Everyday, in every way, I am getting better and better."
"Aha-aha, I must kill him."
"Francois, start the car!"
"Does your dog bite?"

Oh, I could go on forever but really that is not what this post is about. That silly structure was just on our way to Canal St. Martin where in the middle of Paris you can see working locks.

You can ride one of these boats from this part of town down to La Bastille and it takes about 2.5 hours with all the changing of the locks. We walked home to the Bastille in about 30 minutes and you don't get to see as much of the action if you are on the boat. The bridges and sidewalks provide the best vantage point for viewing the changing water levels. The kids were amazed at how these boats passed through. It was a lovely AND educational Sunday stroll through Paris.

Are we really that old?

cough. cough. ahem. 21 years? Really?

Luckily in the company of good people, conversation can pick up right where it left off after that much time. This is a friend of mine from camp I have not seen in over two decades. He lives in MN and I live on the East Coast but I guess it took Paris to bring us together again after so many years. Which is fitting since we went to a French language summer camp.
I hear you snickering- it was fun. and campy. just with baguette.

He is now married to a great woman whom I really could have spent much more time getting to know. Anyway, I am grateful they contacted me while they visited the City of Lights so we could catch up over a bottle of wine in the Tuilleries. I had a fabulous time. A tout a l'heure Justin!

Amber Waves of Grain v.s. Warm Baguette

I am puttering around the apartment this morning doing laundry and general picking up. Laundry here is difficult. The washer and dryer are one unit. The washer will wash 5 kg of clothes but the dryer will only do 2.5 kg of stuff. So once the wash is done you have to take half of it out and start a 2 part dry cycle. 2.5 kg of clothes is 2 pairs of jeans. So as you can imagine the wash cycle isn't all that large compared to what we do at home. The wash cycle takes 1 hour 36 minutes and the dry cycle takes 2 hours. So to wash 4 pairs of jeans, it would take 1hr 36 minutes to wash and then 4 hours for the two part dry cycle. The water is so hard here that when you hang clothes to dry they get stiff and scratchy. So in essence a tremendous amount of logic and time management are involved in this simple process of doing the wash. Then we have the 5 euro a shirt dry cleaning tariff which is about $7. So since that is OUTRAGEOUS I am doing lots of ironing too which I don't really do at home. I will admit to finding it a bit cathartic.

At the moment I have my iPod shuffling on the speaker we brought with us and the kids are quiet (well that is because one is under severe punishment for being INSANELY rude to her mother about the choice of stuffed animals she was allowed to bring to France). Anyway, the point of all this is that while my iPod was on shuffle it started to go through my country stuff - Lonestar, Keith Urban, Rascall Flatts etc. All of the sudden I got so relaxed and felt this overwhelming nostalgia for the US. At home I have always felt that the food, art, culture, languages, etc of Europe were more akin to me than US culture. I love traveling here learning a new way of life. I was surprised at how much I seemed to miss the US when these songs came on. It was a different longing than the missing of home. It was a longing for America. And the thing is that for as much fun as this is....the food, the sights, the warm baguette at 6:00 pm, the crepes, the scarves on all the women, and all that wonderful wine, I miss the smiling happy people of the US. We tend to stereotype the french as grumpy, rude, unfriendly people. Well being here has made me realize that we could make the same generalization about Americans. We are generally a happy, helpful, considerate, group of people. I know we may not see that inside our own bubble but when you step out of it and look back in against the framework of another culture you can really see the differences. Yes we are loud. Yes we probably eat too much. Yes we probably could do with a general downsizing in life of the things we consume, buy, and own. However, we are more aware of those who surround us and how we affect their environment. We don't in general walk blindly down the street not paying attention to anyone else on the side walk and crash into people on a regular basis. We will always say "excuse me". We will always, wave to say thank you when someone has stopped their car to let us through. We, for the most part, understand that when two lines merge it is an even alternating of people. We smile and look people in the eye. We don't outwardly judge others with harsh criticism. I find that Parisians in particular are so consumed in their own lives that they CANNOT see other people. I mean that in both the large scale and the small scale. Their crashing into you on the street is not by accident, they either are so consumed in their own world that their path is more important than yours or they just don't give a shit and expect you to step out of their way. I don't any more and crash right into people. My children have been shoved out of the way by adults trying to get where they are going. Simon saw a 40 ish year old business man shove an old lady out of the way on the metro to get the last seat on the train. Simon then looked the guy in the eye and offered the old lady his seat. The French would probably say that the fact that Americans smile at everyone is fake. That they themselves do smile but reserve it for true friends. It is said here that a Parisian won't consider you a real friend until you have known her for 10 years so they don't walk around with a welcoming smile on their faces. But there are conflicting rules of social conduct here. You are a heathan if you walk into a store and don't immediately and directly say "Bonjour Madame or Bonjour Monsieur". And upon leaving you must say your parting goodbyes. They respond in kind but without a smile. Parisians are, I think, the ones who give the French the reputation for being rude and inconsiderate. Because they truly are. I don't think all of France is like this. Although, I did experience some bitchy french people living in Rennes while in college. But I will say that ALL French people have a flair for drama. The eye rolling, the hand waving, the blowing out of the cheeks. They seem to live with a giant exclamation point above their heads. Don't get me started on their propencity for the phrase "c'est pas ma faut". Oh boy that one takes the cake for annoyances. I am a take-full-responsibility-for-your-actions kinda girl so that gets under my skin. Like yesterday an older woman smoking next to us while we were eating lunch at a cafe. She blew her smoke directly at us and was one of those smokers who seemed to exhale more garbage than she inhaled so we probably were getting a higher percentage of carcenogenic second hand smoke than normal. After the third time a large plume of smoke landed on my children and their sandwiches, I turned to her and through the cloud said "Madame, s'il vous plait?". Oh boy, the sparks flew. ba! ba! ba! (arms waving) c'est pas ma faut!! Muttering that we were outside and she was allowed to smoke here all the while she got up and moved to a different spot. She kept on hurling her drama my way until I told her in french that was enough. I am sure me telling an older woman "that's enough" was probably a felony here in France but tough shit.

And they don't smile. They just don't smile. If you don't believe me, read this. And I now realize that I just can't live without the American smile. I don't care if it is genuine or not. People are more beautiful with a smile and I am stunned the Parisians and their need for beauty haven't latched on to that concept.

Next month we will go to Amsterdam where I find the people to be generous with their spirit, London where manners were perfected, and Rome where you can get a giant hug from just about anyone. I look forward to being back in the Europe that I love with people who seem to be happy. I frankly think I am just done with France. England, the Netherlands, and Italy offer just as much if not more in terms of culture, food and experience. It is just that I love speaking French but the Parisians have worn me down.

When I was 22 I spent a night in London by myself after returning from a visit to my boyfriend of 6 years who was studying in York. While in York I discovered he was seeing someone else up there. It was a terrible few days. I hopped a train back to London the day before my flight back to the US to chill and figure out what I was going to do once we got back to school. Walking through Covent Garden on a chilly December day with my thoughts in the clouds, I realized a cute boy had walked directly up to me and was now kneeling on bended knee. He seemed to be raising money for an animal rights group and I told him that I had already given to one of his colleagues also collecting money in the area. He said "forget the charity, have a drink with me." So I did. We found refuge in a nearby pub and had a pint.

When Sweet Pea was 5 months old we took her on a family trip to Italy for two weeks. During those two weeks she was pinched and squeezed and generally fussed over by every Italian we encountered. Children are simply revered there. The warmth of the Italian people radiates from everywhere and envelopes you. Not to mention their delicious food warming up your tummy.

I guess it comes down to this, I have lived in Europe 3 times now and visited its countries countless times that have seen so much of this area that I don't feel I have much left to see. I know that makes me sound like a spoiled brat but it is true. All I want now is to sit and soak in the culture. For me that is easing into a new way of life, eating different foods, and speaking a different language. Traveling to Europe is more about the people than the sights nowadays. I've seen enough cathedrals to last a lifetime. I now go into the National Gallery of Art in London to see ONE painting and then leave. I know the Uffizi in Florence like the back of my hand. So if the people in the place I am visiting are not pleasant then it just isn't the place for me anymore. It's just that the damn warm baguette keeps luring me back.

Evening Stroll

What is nice about being so far north is that is stays light out well into the evening. Because of this, I have felt safe taking the kids out for walks after dinner alone while SJ is away on business trips. Here is one of our favorite strolls....

Walk down our road, Bd Beaumarchais, to Place de la Bastille and continue on Avenue Henri IV until you come to the Seine.

Then cross this bridge......

And don't forget to take in the view........

as the children are doing here....

Make a right once you cross half the bridge onto.....

This road......

And if you follow the road most of the way down, you'll find this treat on your right hand side. Best ice cream in the entire world!

Chango-Presto

Ahh....that's how they change those posters.
Ever noticed how the entire city is wallpapered in promotional posters?
Ever noticed how quickly they change?
It's like a garbage truck driving around the city- guys hop off and quickly change out posters and then they continue up the street.

A walk in the parc

After yesterday's nice day trip to Reims, SJ and I spent the day with Nana and the kids out and about in Paris. The kids had seen a picture of this huge head so we had to find it. Luckily it was right near the kitchen equipment store Nana and I wanted to go to.


This is the park by Les Halles.

After climbing, lunching and shopping, we headed across the Pont Neuf for a photo op.


and then onto luxembourg gardens. As I have mentioned before the playground here is kick-ass.

We always meet lots of kids when we come here and today was no different. Except this little girl was half French and half American and had moved here permanently. Sweet Pea and she became fast friends even though this little girl was a whole 2 years older. They were inseparable for the entire time we were here and begged for les mamans to exchange info. Of course I am always eager to assist my children as they branch out and meet new people and was armed with pen and paper offering contact info. Unfortunately, you'd think that this child's half French came from her mother but no, she was also American, but had adopted French attitude about meeting new people. She was so reluctant to meet me and I even caught her rolling her eyes. Lovely. She made every excuse under the sun as to why a get-together for the girls wouldn't be possible and then offered to text me her email so the girls could write back and forth. Nothing ever came. Such a shame.

Bubbly

SJ took the day off and Nana took the kids so we had a grown-up day all to ourselves. While Nana was being dragged up the stairs of the Eiffel Tower, SJ and I took a train out to Reims for a day of cathedral gawking and champagne tasting.

The cathedral in Reims was the chosen location for the coronation of France's kings. It is a beautiful example of the gothic architecture.

After that we were off to an appointment at Taittinger for a history of this region's champagne making and a sample of their bubbly. It was a great tour - the better of the two we did that day. Their caves are natural salt caves and are quite beautiful.

The second tour we did was at Mumm. It might have been an okay tour if it hadn't been for the ill behaved children of a french couple who were entertaining American guests with a tour of a champagne house. Their obnoxius, over privilged and under admonished twits were running around twisting bottles (a big champs no no!), interrupting the guide, and generally creating such havoc that we could barely focus on anything we may or may not have been hearing.

Aside from les petits, Mumm was a bit less authentic than Tat. Veuve was booked so if you are going, make reservations in advance at Veuve and also go to Tat. That's my $.02.

The one interresting thing at Mumm was this room under lock and key- only available to the person resonsible for making sure each year's blend had the right taste and aroma. There are bottles here from every year of Mumm's production so if need be, old bottles can be opened to help make sure the current year's blend is consistent. The last time this was done was apparently in 2004.

On the banks of the Seine

Today we decided to figure out the bus system here in Paris. We took the #69 from Saint Paul which drove us down Rue de Rivoli, then across in front of the Louvre, along the left bank in front of the Musee D'Orsay, and then down to the Champ de Mars. At the CDM the driver turned off the engine and turned to us (sightseers on a RATP public bus) and said that it was the end of the line and we had to get off. Ah. okay. So we disembarked, walked across the street to the #69 stop going in the opposit direction and in 10 minutes time he started his engine and drove round to pick us up. We rode until the Musee D'Orsay stop so we could spend the afternoon checking out the impressionist work housed there. Unfortunately, after walking quite a ways and seeing much closer #69 stops to the Museum, we realized that while the bus stop was called Musee D'Orsay it was not really the best place to get off the bus for the museum. However, I did pass a store called Bonpoint fin de series. Hum? Bonpoint outlet???

So this little walk from the bus stop to the museum revealed that finally there was no long line outside the museum! yay!!! Then we realized the MDO is closed on Mondays. dang!

We walked back along the river and across one of its many bridges to pick up the final week of Paris Plages on the opposite bank. Dad met us there on his way home from work and we walked through Chatelet back to Saint Paul to do some shopping on the way home.

Nana arrives in 2 days!

Buddy hates having his picture taken and will make it painful for everyone to have to pose for one.

You should eat before battling tourists....

Okay so we are back from vacation and really I need to get serious about seeing the sights of Paris. Up until now we have been hopscotching through playgrounds and sampling treats. There are some very important things to see here in this crazy city. Unfortunately there are about a million other people here as well trying to see the sights. The line for the Eiffle Tower was a good example that those other tourists, the ones here for only a few days, mean business. So, fine. We'll get clever.

SP calling SJ at work: Meet us outside the Tuileries station at 5:30 pm. Bring nothing.
SJ: What's with the clandestine crap?
click

So here we are waiting for dad with a can of Orangina to share....

....or steal. Whichever way you look at it.

I prepared a simple and quick picnic dinner to eat in this gorgeous park. Sorry for the bad pics- only had my iPhone on me.

But of course brought the wine.....

And at 6:15 we crossed the park and got in a much shorter line at the Louvre for their Wednesday evening hours. It was still mayhem but not as bad as it would be during the day. I must say that the Louvre is my least favorite museum in all of Europe only because of its set up. Oh it is just so hard to see everything you want to see. It houses some of my most favorite pieces of art (NOT THE MONA LISA) but getting to them all without losing your legs is nearly impossible. One of my favorite thing to do is watch all the tourists who have clearly tried to do it all in one visit sitting with their heads in their hands with an air of exhaustion written all over them. You should never try to do the Louvre all at once- you won't even enjoy what you do get to see. We decided to break it up into 3 evening visits so we could actually digest all that beautiful art. We did the Denon Wing this time which has the Mona. Sweet Pea was very interested in seeing her amidst all the throngs of people. I tried to contain my annoyance with the swarms of people trying to get a peek at what I think is Leonardo's least interesting piece of work. Once she gets a glimpse of a Caravaggio she'll forget all about Mona.

Pezenas. Love it. Will return.

We stayed here- great place. I could not speak more highly of this hotel. We rented an apartment through them but the hotel was spectacular.

The top and middle windows are ours.

Somebody in this neighborhood dares to be different....and I like it!

The old streets of Pezenas. So beautiful.

My new nephew has a few things from here.....

Friday nights in August the town put on a wine tasting festival. It was small and not as good as the one we hit in Fitou but fun nonetheless.

This place opens up early early in the morning to sell shellfish. I grabbed some mussles one day for part of our dinner that night.

Okay so at home we have biscuits we can make out of a can. Here you pop open that thing and can make Pain au Chocolate. I just had to try it!

They were terrible. (shaking her head and smiling with a grimace)

Although not as terrible as this horrible dessert called le religeuse (sp?) - I am not even going to explain it - the pictures say it all.

This is a petit pate de peznas which is a specialty for the town of minced meat and dried fruit. I loved them. Rest of family said "no thank you". Okay. More for me.

And being so close to spain- Paella was everywhere.

What could be more french than a man in a beret selling a huge hunk of cheese?

No, seriously, I did fall....

I am laughing my ass of realizing the title of my last post.

This morning I fell.

No really, I totally f'ing wiped out while trying to scoot between parked cars and the wind picked up my baggy frenchie pantalons and wrapped the loose fabric around one of my feet and I was a gonner. Down. and Down hard. I could barely walk for a few hours and we decided that traveling home on such an injury tomorrow wasn't prudent. So we have extended our stay until Tuesday to make sure I am well enough to travel.

Oh isn't that too bad?

Beach Days

Pezenas is about an hour south of Montpellier and inland a bit. If you drive directly to the sea from Pez you would get to the beaches near the town of Agde. I had heard these beaches were crowded and touristy. After the drive down to what were supposed to be the nicer beaches south of Perpignan and not loving them we decided to hang at our local plage at Cap D'Agde. We hit Jungle Beach the first day and stuck with it for the rest of the week. It is a wide beach with great sand and a shallow reef that went way out which was good for the kids. For some strange reason the French don't really appear on the beach scene until about 3:30 or 4:00 pm. There are a few people there earlier but most of them head home for a long lunch around 12:30 and then don't reappear until late late in the afternoon. You will see a difference in the number of people on the beach in the following pictures and you will be able to tell without a doubt what time of day they were taken. While the beaches did get crowded the one thing that SJ and I noticed and loved is that the French seem to love to play. They are always joking around and yes sometimes that can be annoying but they all seemed to be having a nice time together. The groups were always of families and never groups of families. Just several generations of one large family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins all together for a month at the beach. Parents were constantly playing with their children. I have never seen so much collaborative work on sandcastles. Oh and paddle ball- everyone is playing it all day long! In the US I think we are very guilty for the most part of taking our kids to the beach and asking them to entertain themselves while the grown-ups read a book. For the most part, fathers were never sitting down but always up and doing something with the kiddos. Grandparents were in on it too, sneaking snacks and treats to the grandchildren. It was nice to see.

This was dead center off the beach and made for a beautiful view every day.

Sweet Pea playing in the calm waters of the Med.

Buddy hanging out in the refreshing water.

This guy was our favorite Beignet vendor on the beach. What might you ask is a beignet? A donut. Yes, the lithe, thin French eat freaking donuts in the hot sun in their bathing suits. Their speedo for men and bottoms only for women bathing suits. I swear they have their own secret genetic code for not gaining weight. Anyway, this hilarious guy would walk up and down the beach singing and dancing to sell his beignets. There were a few other vendors also selling donuts but they were far less entertaining.

Of course we had to sample one. Buddy did the honors of ordering. I handed him a 2 euro piece and he bolted for the nearest beignet guy and fearlessly ordered a beignet in French. That kid will do anything for food.

While it was good, the ice cream cones from the lady walking up and down the beach with a rolling ice chest were much more refreshing on a hot beach day.

The sun is hot here. We kept focusing on Buddy and his transparent skin and in the end his sister got the burn. Whoops.

We had a big storm one night and the water was rocking and rolling the next day. Everyone (except me who fell that morning) had a great time playing in the waves......

I hobbled in on my poor leg briefly to cool off though.

This is what the beach looked like at 5:00 pm when the crowds had really arrived. By then it was time for us to go and enjoy some cold rose in our beautiful town of Peznas.

This is a sign posted at the entrance to the A9 autoroute. The signs behind never gave an indication of what color the traffic would be. I thought it was a better system to describe the day of a parent of young children. When asked how was your day you could simply say "yellow".

Narbonne but not quite Carcassonne

Today we decided to do the Cathar Castle route starting in Narbonne and driving inland to Carcassonne. Narbonne delivered on its promise of a cute town with an unfinished gothic cathedral. It was lovely and I even had a few spare minutes to do some shopping and get some cute things for Sweet Pea and myself.

This is the cathedral in Narbonne that was never finished. Something to do with a bad economy (we can all relate to that right?) followed by the black death. A most unfortunate set of circumstances. It was interesting though to be able to see a slice in history and imagine what it was like during the building process of one of these great architectural masterpieces.

A castle we passed on the road to Carcassonne.

Here is another that offered a tour so we stopped. It was full of mystery and intrigue which was lots of fun.

It was hot when we got out of the car. The temperature had been steadily rising as we drove further and further away from the coast. This place was about half way to Carcassonne and the thermostat was reading 36 degrees C which is really just more than I can handle in the heat department.

Luckily this place had either artificial or natural stone AC so it was nice inside.

Back on the road we gave up on Carcassonne since really if it was any hotter than 36 when we got there I wasn't going to get out of the car. So we turned around and drove back down our winding road straight for the nearest body of water.

And this is what we found.

It was nice to get out and play in the water even though it was no longer 36 but a mere 27 degrees.

My cute kids!

She must have fallen in a hole...

******UPDATE********
Having returned to Paris and found the internet in the same heap on the floor as it was in Pezenas I wasn't able to update my blog for a while. It is now the last week in August and I am slowly catching up. Putting all the posts on the correct days though so dig through below to see more posts.
******************************************************************************************

A friend of mine referred, at one point, to my blog as a virtual live feed from Paris. That was until we had some friends come and visit and then we got busy preparing for and going on vacation. We are currently in Languedoc staying in a beautiful village about 15 minutes from the beach and amidst loads of vineyards. We are exploring by day and I intended on catching up on blogging by night. Unfortunately, the internet here is dodgy at best and I am unable to upload photos. And without photos, what's the point, right? So be patient my friends- there are a plethora of posts coming as soon as I can get back to Paris and plug into that ethernet cable.

xoxo for now.......

Exploring Languedoc-Roussillon

Languedoc-Roussillon is a department in France in the southwest that has coastline not only on the Med but also on the Atlantic. It also is the part of France that borders Spain and shares those beautiful Pyrenees Mountains. Considering Spain is only a few hours drive, it is a pretty cool part of France to spend some time. We decided to drive down to Perpignan today to see this old city which carries much influence from Spain. As you can see, the signs down here are in both French and Catalan.

We arrived and parked the car by this neat waterfountain. It looks like the kids are in the middle of it but there is a dry path between two sections giving the illusion that people are actually in the fountain getting wet.

The city was old and historic but mostly old. It wasn't in as good condition as I had hoped and felt a bit touristy to us.

At home you usually see little girls dressed up as a disney princess. Here so close to Spain they are Flamenco dancers. Or so it seemed.

Buddy acutally soaking wet from jumping into the second water fountain we found. It was one of those with water shooting up from the ground in unexpected places. Luckily it was hot enough that he dried out quickly.

After Perpignan we drove further south to check out a few beaches and while the mountains rising up in the near distance were beautiful, this was not an area of France that appealed too much to us. The beaches had a dirty dusty kind of sand that blew up and into your eyes and the area was full of the kind of dirty campers and shit boxes I referred to in my last post. It just felt a bit creepy to us so we didn't stay too long.

On the way home we found this beautiful looking castle near a town called Fitou. We drove up to see what it was all about. The views were gorgeous. But it turned out to be a museum of medieval torture instruments. SJ took the leaping children through the museum while I took in the scenery.

On the way down the hill we decided to drive up the other side of Fitou to see if we could find some winemakers. Fitou is probably the oldest AOC appelation in the LR department. Fitou, Minervois, and Corbieres are the best known AOC wines from this area. Most of the wines from this area are relatvely new. From what we heard, back in the 1970's the winemakers in this area were irate at the influx of wines from neighboring countries but the reality was that their wine sucked. The government subsidized the funding of new vines for this region and they started all new vineyards not too long ago. Fitou, while it received its AOC status in the mid 1900's when the rest of the region received theirs in the 1980's, has vines dating back to roman times and only makes AOC red. As with most French wines they are a blend and in this region Carignan, Grenache, Mourvèdre and Syrah grapes are used. Many regard this region, which is apparently the largest grape producing region in France, as an up and comer in the wine world. Low and behold not only did we find some winemakers but we found the start to their annual wine festival!

We were told that every year there is a 2-day festival to celebrate the previous year's wines and get ready for the current year's harvest. The festival always starts with a more locals-only party where the heads of all the winemaking estates parade through town and the town awards honors to the best wines from last year. This was a very small town and while we were directed up the street to find the center of town we discovered that the center of town was about 3 feed wide.

So after wandering around for a bit waiting for the parade to start we found a seat in the 3ft section known as the center of town and waited. The kids were SOOO bored. But you can't pass up an an opportunity to celebrate wine with local winemakers. I mean really!?!

While we were waiting we were entertained by this couple. Now I am not sure if they trained at Disney's Epcot's France or if the people at DW Epcot trained in France. Either way I thought these kinds of performers were always so cheesy. The French locals thought they were great though and jumped right in. My kids were terrified the performers were going to pluck them from the crowd to join in. I don't really blame them.

Here are some kids who did join in though....

So here is this year's class of winners in the appelation of Fitou. They were congratulated by the mayor and photographed for the paper.

Then it was time to Party! Most of the producers set up booths for a tasting. 3 euros bought you a glass and an unlimited number of servings. Woo hoo fun! I gave the honors to my husband since we still had to drive home. His job was to go to each booth at least once and then when all was sipped and done he was to tell me which was the best and I would have a glass of that. Then I drove the little Mercedes home. Fitou is good stuff and very inexpensive....well at least here. I am sure the importers in blue-law heaven of MA will levy a hefty import fee!

These were the winners in our opinion. The Domaine above and below were our favorites.

En Vacance

After having apparently slept through violent thunderstorms which disrupted the sleep of my entire family except for me I woke up at 7:30 refreshed and excited about the impending day in the southern sunshine. I tossed on my running shoes and amidst the flack I was receiving from my very sleepy husband who was needling me about my long standing claim that ever since having children I am unable to sleep through anything – but some how slept through the heavens opening up last night- I smiled sweetly and put on my iPod and took off for a jog. I don’t jog by the way. I have bitchy knees that complain bitterly when asked to perform as shock absorbers so I really don’t do much in the way of cardio that isn’t low or no impact. But alas I am in France for 3 months and I have to do something about all the damn bread I am eating! So, after a brisk walk to warm up I eased into a slow jog and proceed to get lost in the jungle of ancient streets with buttoned up shops. Jogging on old European cobbled streets is tricky. Especially for one with bitchy knees. Add to that the lunging and dodging required to avoid the dog shit littered everywhere and my knees were giving me hell. But this Sunday morning brought back yet another memory from college. All those closed quiet morning streets are not only littered with dog poop but on Sunday mornings they are also littered with vomit from the rowdy night prior. I had a little chuckle to myself as I recalled all my college days spent in Europe and kept on running. After doing two circuits around the entire town in 15 minutes, noticing 2 guys doing the walk of shame and 3 other young men apparently leaving for the beach, I decided it was time to head back and get my clan moving.

Luckily the run was invigorating because we had no coffee in house this morning. Grrr. A quick shower, kids wolfing down Cheerios Miel and every one sun-screened and in suits and we were off. We headed down to Cap D’Agde to a place we were told was good for kids. SJ and I settled into a pair of lounge chairs rented from one of the beachside café’s and we watched our kids play in the soft fine sand and frolic in the warm waters of the Med. The day turned out to be hot and beautiful with an occasional breeze and a stray cloud giving a respite from the blazing sun.

About 2:30 we decided to leave our comfy chairs and head to the car to have a looksee around the area. We drove down to Beziers and then back to Pezenas where we had a quick change and then did a late afternoon stroll around the town. This was much like the passagiatta you find in Italy. Everyone is out before dinner having a leisurly stroll. The shops opened up and the cafes were bustling. Eventually we found a beautiful square with a few cafes and a band just starting up. We found a suitable place and grabbed a table for the four of us for some wine and cheese while we enjoyed our surroundings. The lovely waitress gave the children crayons and paper and I decided that not all French waitstaff would continue to fall into the same category.

A quick skype session with my brother while I made quiche for dinner and the day was done with a happy smile and droopy eyelids.

Don't drink? Don't smoke? What do you do?

If given half a chance I'll take off my clothes on a beach.
(okay and I do drink, but aside from those two things...)

Lemmings

You know how when you go on vacation you bust your ass for the week or two prior to make sure that everything is in order before you leave? After all, you are leaving work or school or your dog or whatever for about a week and arrangements have to be made for someone to pick up your workload, care for your dog, water your plants etc? Especially if you work in a client service industry- you've got to tell all your clients you will be away and then make sure to forward your calls to voicemail and remember to set up a bounce-back email letting everyone know that you are away? Well you don't have to do that here in France because when you're away- everyone's away. And frankly no one is looking for you. July 31st is like the 3rd of July or the day before Thanksgiving. People only go to work to make sure they haven't left their computer on and take off at noon. Except on July 31st the French leave at noon for the better part of an entire MONTH! They are like roaches in a kitchen when the lights get turned on. Voooom- August 1st they are GONE. They flee the cities for the warm shores of the Med where they congregate en mass in campers, holiday shit boxes on the beach, and high-rise hotels near an amusement park. So we decided to join them. Well not in a shit box thankfully.

Today, August 1st, we joined the lemmings and fled the city for the baking heat of the south to enjoy its beaches, wine, and relaxation. We grabbed the 8:00 am TGV from Paris to Montpellier - a 3 hour - easy as pie train ride. However, riding the rails was not only relaxing but nostalgic. Nostalgic for the time when I was accustomed to traveling on a eurail pass and would remember NOT to write in the date until someone in your group spied the ticket checker. You remember those train passes you got in college? A certain number of days in a given month and don't freaking waste one if a conductor isn't going to come by and check it right? Well, rule follower me immediately wrote in the date on our passes and no one came by to check the tickets during the entire 3 hour trip. Arrrgggg!

Once in Montpellier we strolled over through the opressive heat to the Sixt car rental place where they proceeded to give us a Mercedes for what was the cheapest rate for the smallest car in all of Europe. Hey, this gig is turning out pretty well!

After walking around the gorgeous (and you should spend a day there if you can) town of Montpellier we got in our petite Mercedes and sped down the A9 to Pezenas, a tiny walled city with lovely people and kick-ass shopping.


Here is Sweet Pea on the train with Muffin. Muffin is the same- but new bought off Ebay by nana when Sweet Pea was born- doll I carried around as a child. I actually wore through 2 or three of these dolls as a kid.

Buddy reaching for another bite of his pain au chocolate breafast on the train. Doesn't it look yummy?

Ah, and our little voiture.

Wincing in the heat. Much hotter than Paris.

So the whole Greek sandal thing is huge here.

A pretty building in Montpellier....

Montpellier.....

One of the things I love about Europe is the mix of the ancient and the modern. This is a cafe tucked behind an old stone archway in an ancient stone building but is completely modern in decor. So cool!

The family wishing I would put down the camera!

These are artisan workshops but they were closed at the time we arrived.

On the A9 and headed south.

Here are pictures of the apartment we rented for the week.

Ditching the guidebooks!

One of the things I love about Paris are all of the hidden treasures to be found around the city and outside the guidebooks. We are so well located in the city that we can easily walk just about anywhere. I love being able to step out my front door and into the Marais which is a gorgeous part of town full of boutiques and cafes. If I walk down the street instead of across the street we find ourselves in the Bastille. The infamous place where people were imprisoned during the French Revolution. Remnants of the Bastille prison can still be seen in places in the metro station that resides underneath the chaotic and death-defying roundabout above. It is also said that there are markings on the road to indicate the original structure of the prison. Either way, it is a pretty cool sight despite the tourists and the cars trying to clip your rear end.

If you walk past the Place de la Bastille and follow signs for the Viaduct des Arts you will be rewarded with a wonderful two part walk. Just beyond the Bastille is an old viaduct that has been restored into l'ateliers (artisan workshops) below and a well cared for garden above. Les ateliers range from dressmakers, to hand-painted bone china, to doll restorers, to umbrella makers. There are hats, glass jewelry, home decor - some of the most amazing home decor- and lots more.


This is a shop selling very old toys. So old they just plain look creepy!

Not going to fall for the wolf in bourgeois clothing.

After walking along the shops, we found a park to play in as a reward for shopping with mommy. The yin and yang of our Parisian summer.

I probably have said this here before but ALL Parisian playgrounds are totally different. They have such completely different play structures that it no longer becomes going to the playground that is closest. We go to the playground with the items we feel like playing on that day. Sometimes this will require us to bus over to the Jardin du Luxembourg for the zip line, or metro to the Tuileries for the swingie thing and large metal ball, or walk up to Arts et Metiers for the playground that is all sand like a beach. Forget the museums- Paris has crazy ass playgrounds to hit!

Anyway, I was able to capture here what is a very common occurance here in Paris. The mystery thing at the playground. We arrive, we see something new. We don't know quite how it is used and we sort of play around it until we see the French kids use it and then we are all over it!

So below to the right you see Buddy climing up the structure and Sweet Pea trying to figure out what those bars are for.....

You can almost hear her saying "what the heck?"

Well watch and learn my dear, watch and learn! Here come the French kids....

Ahhhhh that is what those bars are for!!! And they're off....

Mom, if I practice on these can I get a skateboard??? - Buddy

So after an hour or so of playing and the requisite ice cream cone afterwards, we head back to the viaduct to walk along the garden path home.
No complaints here!

Oh, I took this picture to the left because it seems they are digging up all the streets at home to lay cable and I think they are doing it here in Paris too. Although you wouldn't know it from their shitty internet service.

Men in tight clothes!

I never really paid much attention to Le Tour de France before. It just seemed like some bike race around vineyards and frankly I don't like riding bikes. This year since I would have the opportunity to see the live finish of this well respected athletic event I thought I would try to get into it. The race began on July 4th in Monaco and ended today, on July 26th in Paris. Le Tour took its bikers through every imaginable kind of terrain and though many of the countries bordering France. Their website had a great little video of the routes for all the stages and frankly if you were like me and didn't have all that much interest in a little bike race- just watching that video of the routes will command your respect.

This afternoon we went down to a point near our apartment to see the race go by. We waited for about 45 minutes until we saw the preamble to the bikers which included the following silly marketing theatrics.




















It seemed that some of the costumes on these tiny euro cars might actually tip them backwards. But none of them did.






































Team Busses




















Here they come!


















.....and there they go!












Clicking as fast as I could on my camera they were by us in a flash. All at once in a huge group. It was crazy!














We walked home over Pont Sully and watched the live finish on TV with some wine and cheese. I couldn't bear fighting the crowds at the Place de la Concorde and likely not be able to see over those "in the know" French who bring ladders to such events. Le quatorze Juillet has scarred me!

Amis a Paris!

You can't even imagine the counting down at our house for this visit from good friends from home! Sweet Pea's good friend S came with her mom J to spend 4 days with us playing in Paris.

J was planning on flying over to Europe anyway this summer to meet up with E and I suggested they all rendez-vous chez moi for a nice long playdate!

S is a trooper. The morning that they landed we did some unpacking and refreshing and then we were off to the market and a playground. Sweet Pea and Buddy were excited to show their friend where they have been playing for the past few weeks.

Can't you just hear them? Little girls arm in arm walking through this amazing city.

Later that afternoon we went to Les Places des Vosges and hung out in the late day sun while the kids played.





















The next day we went down to Paris Plages for a walk along the Seine with some ice cream. The kids found this potable water station and had some fun on a hot summer day. Paris Plages is set up every year (4th year running I think) to provide some fun and entertainment for city residents to beat the heat during July and August.











There are several Petanque courts set up and you can borrow a set of boules to have a bit of fun while you stroll along the Seine.
























































































































After the Plages we headed straight for Gare du Nord to pick up E from her long train ride! Doesn't she look beautifu!?!




The kids were so excited to see here. They were leaping all around the platform. It was so cute.














After the grabbing E at the train station we headed over to the Eiffel Tower to see if we could head on up to see the sights of Paris. Sweet Pea has been so excited to get to go UP the tower with her good friend S.


















Unfortunately the lines were so long that it wasn't worth it. It was a gazillion degrees and the line for the elevator was about 2-3 hours long. Grrr. The kids were very disappointed.













We did get some cute shots though!






















And a mediocre family one...

Gosh, he's getting big.

The other reason we could not wait in line at the ET for so long this day was that it was GNO time! J, E and I headed to Chez Janou for dinner and then bar hopping and finally to a dance- or rather dance-ish club. It was a great night out and apparently my French gets better with booze.

Sunday we watched the final leg of the Tour de France wiz by but I'll do a separate post about that....








Monday it was time to have our final day in Paris so we had to get it all in. Here are the girls in their matching Paris T-shirts.


















and yes we finally made it up the Eiffel Tower. Despite leaving the house in 90 degree weather and arriving to rain, cold wind, and thunder storms, we waited for nearly 2 hours to get up and got some really cute shots while we were up there! Making memories is what it is all about!

Music Television. Remember that?

It is cold and rainy here today so I am taking the opportunity to stay inside and fais le menage. (housecleaning)

I decided to flip on the TV to entertain the restless monkeys and low and behold, I found MTV playing actual music videos. In fact one after another- video after video after video. The kids sat blankly staring at the TV and yes, I know, I am a mom who exerts lots of TV restrictions but they were mesmerized. It then dawned on me that with the advent of reality TV - MTV at home pretty much doesn't play videos anymore so it was likely they had never seen a music video. Its all Cribs, Road Rules and other crap. So I explained to the kids what a music video was and shuffled off thankful that at least one place on earth knows that MTV stands for MUSIC TELEVISION!

How to beat the heat...

Paris Plages started up this week and seems like it will be a great fun and FREE thing for us to do here in Paris. Very little is free and frankly most everything here is crazy expensive. They have closed off this road that runs along the Seine and set up tons of activities for young and old alike. There are places where they have trucked in sand to make an actual Plage and build sandcastles, a place to play boules (petanque), a lending library complete with loungers to hang in and read, beach chairs right on the edge of the river, concerts, exercising, and loads more. To the right you can see at the bottom of the page a climbing structure for kids under 7. This is on our end of the Seine so it is an easy walk from our apartment.





Here is a view down the river of some of the festivities.

Hello? Beautiful!

They have misters set up so you can cool off when things get hot. I wish I grabbed a picture of this guy who was sunning himself along the banks in a lovely French Speedo and then got up - stood under the mister to cool off and returned to his seat. When there is no ocean around people just improvise with summer!

Buddy mixing it up with other kids.

And finally they have installed a pool right on the edge of the Seine with fabulous views. It is also on our end of the river so it is a 20-minute walk from our apartment. Lucky us! It is free to the public and has certain hours for certain ages. From 3:30 pm -6:30 pm it is reserved for kids under 10 and their guardians. There are however rules. Boys and men must be in speedos for hygeine purposes and everyone must be in a swimming cap. You walk through feet cleaning pools and a shower before you get to the swim deck.

But when a FREE city swimming pool looks as clean as this, one can hardly argue with the rules!

It was however freezing.

The US seems Fava-less. Why?

Have you ever seen fava beans so large? Yes those are favas next to regular sized baguettes! I happen to love fava beans but they are hard to find at home. I race to the markets in the spring time on my annual fava hunt and this year I could not find them at any of the groceries I frequent including Whole Foods but did manage to find them at Plum, a tiny produce only market in the South End of Boston. We happened to be in town that day and I found lovely fava beans which I prepared over salmon later that night. After watching my 6 year old son gobble them up like m&m's I decided to get more. Unfortunately not. After searching all the markets near us for the magical beans, I decided to make the hour long drive into Boston but had neglected to call Plum first and she didn't have any that day. It was too far to drive to be making regular runs into town for some veggies. So I gave up. Much to my delight, fava beans seem to be a staple of the French diet and are everywhere. They have them in all sizes, at every farmers market and in every grocery store. They even have them frozen in all the stores.

For those of you not familiar with the fava bean- it looks like green bean but is larger. Once you open the pod you will find that the beans are wrapped in a waxy coating which you need to remove before eating them. I blanch them for a minute or two in some boiling water and then rinse them under cold water. I then take a knife and make a tiny slice in the waxy shell and squeeze out the lucious green bean.

Here is a pile of shells along with one of the beans. If you blanche them for more than a few minutes it is likely you won't have to cook them more but if not, you'll want to toss them in for the last minute of the cooking process for whatever you are serving them with to finish cooking. They are easily overdone so be careful not to cook them too much or they'll get mealy. If they are underdone they are a bit bitter so it is advisable to taste one after blanching to see how much more time they need under the heat.

S'amuse bien....

There are a very many people who shy away from taking their small children to Europe because they think the kids won't appreciate being there. Yes, dragging little kids from museum to museum can get tiresome but there is so much in European cities for kids. I think they cater to children more than large US cities do and perhaps that is why American's have a hard time grasping that their little kids will actually have fun in Europe. The kids and I are hopscotching from playground to playground around Paris. The first one you see here is the one right by the market I like to shop at for fresh produce. It is a good little compromise we have. Everyone behaves while mom does the shopping and then we get a good long stretch at the playground.





















































This is the playground at the Luxembourg Gardens which you must pay to enter. It is 2.30 euros/kid and if you want to go in with your kids you need to pay the 1.60 euro fee for an adult. SJ and I stopped here earlier after a long walk around the 6th looking at a possible neighborhood for our September apartment. The apartment is less than a block from Le Jardin so if we get it - the kids will be veterans of this PG.























































So this contraption is a little zip wire of sorts for the kiddos. You can see above that you grab a poma seat thingy and drag it across the platform and then hop on for a swing ride around.










Then you get back in line and do it all over again!














When the playgrounds offer stuff like this and are in such good condition you don't mind paying for an all day ticket. If we end up living near here in September that all day ticket will be really worth its salt!

Vive la Vonage!

Our Vonage telephone account is hooked up and working! So if you have our home phone - feel free to call us - just please do the math on time zones!

(if you don't get us or our voicemail it could be that we've unplugged the Vonage box to charge our computers using the only converter we have so far. More are coming on Friday so we can power more than one thing at a time!)

Unexpected delights....

Wind and clouds followed those crazy storms last night. The sun briefly showed its warm rays but other than that this has been a chilly day for the heart of summer. To be honest, I prefer this kind of weather when I am not near the ocean and can easily find relief from the heat. However, on Monday when Paris Plages opens up we'll be wanting all that seasonably warm weather to heat things up for swimming and sunbathing along the Seine.

Not quite sure what to do today, I tossed a kids book on Monet in my bag and decided to head to the Tuileries to read to the kids before going to L'Orangerie to see the magnificently huge Waterlilies housed there. We walked down to La Bastille where Buddy informed me he was getting a blister and wanted to go home and change his shoes. So back we went and once he was donned in his crocs with the heal strap turned to the front we were good to go. Hopping on Line #1 we rode for about 5 stops until we came to the Tuileries station. Much to our (their) delight upon exiting the station we found that the Tulleries has a carnival from the end of June through the end of August. The kids went wild. It was complete with games, French carnival food and a huge ferris wheel.






















The nice thing about doing carnivals in foreign countries is that they have all the fun - but probably dangerous stuff - due to the lack of being sued for personal injury. The carnival was empty so we had the rides all to ourselves. The other nice thing is that the ride operators here don't try and wait for the ride to fill up before starting it. They had two kinds of bumper cars - one with the regular cars and one with bumper motorcycles. Or as I like to call them, bumper Vespas! The kids and I decided to do the regular kind and when the operator discovered that the kids were too short to be both buckled in AND reach the gas peddle he shrugged his shoulders in a way only the French can and said "d'accord". So the kids drove around totally unbuckled and no one was wearing a helmet. Oh, the dangers!!! Well, it was just me out there with them so I took care not to bump them - well not that much anyway. They thought it was incredible fun. We then took a ride on the ferris wheel to grab some incredible views of Paris and with all the dramatic weather we have had lately, the clouds made for some great pictures.


















































Nice zoom huh?!





































After the fun and games it was time to grab a sandwich jambon and a fanta to eat our dejeuner in the parc with the rest of the Frenchies on their lunch breaks. We read the book on Monet and then strolled down through the Tuileries away from the Louvre towards L'Orangerie. On our way we came upon a group - obvious from their office attire- still on their lunch break from work engaged in a heated game of boules. Lady in navy pants with cute sweater just bowled a show stopper and hit the little white ball with her first boule. You could tell the men were now taking the game very seriously and one by one got up there and failed miserably. Then second to last guy, with suit-pants tight enough only a euro guy could pull off, tossed his boule and knocked her out of the way. When the last office-mate tossed his first ball it was apparently close enough to require everyone to approach the mess of silver balls on the ground to examine who was winning. It was at this point that I noticed that all these well coiffed people had marched into the parc after a rainy night for this game of boules and their well healed heals were covered in the white mud of French parcs. Leaves and branches stuck to them but no one seemed to care. Realizing he had a chance to win this gig, l'homme returned to the line to bowl his second boule but the seriousness of the game at this point required him to put down his glass of rose and really focus. It was a failed attempt as was the last boule bowled by our lady in the cute sweater so alas, we think second-to-last-man-in-tight-pants won. Mind you, it was just about 2 pm. For those of you working in an office- do you get to take off mid-day for a glass of wine and a game with ALL your officemates? Ahhh the french workplace!

So off to L'Orangerie we went and had a wonderful time peeking at some of Monet's most impressive pieces along with lots of other impressionist works done by his compatriots.




















The prize for being such a good maman today shelling out euro after euro at the carnival, filling my children's brains with important information about 19th century artists, and buying ice cream as we walked back to the metro was a complaint-free stretch of shopping for shoes!

Comment on dit "hail" en francais?

n. grele f

vb. greler


Last night we got a sudden thunderstorm. Lighting flashing and wind picked up like a tornado out of no where. In an instant we were showered with hail the size of a large pea.

n: grelon m

This is a hailstone SJ grabbed out the window.

La vie chez nous...

I hope you are all noticing that finally I have an eat-in-kitchen! It is surprisingly functional - if I am in there alone. It is just so Parisian & I love it. I am sure it will get old at somepoint but for now it makes me feel like une vraie maman francaise!

Sweet Pea checking out the goings on outside the front window.

Our first dinner in Paris. Those are Stella Artois bottles and here they sell them in two sizes. The ones in the picture are the petits. I think it is great b/c while I love a good beer on a hot summer day I find that it fills me up.










Sweet Pea and Buddy discussing what to do the next day. Those are City Walks for Kids cards. We have two sets of walking tour cards for Paris. They are great b/c you don't have to carry a whole guide book with you around the city. Just grab the card you want to do and you're off!

















Our dinner the second night.












I am not very good at making pie crust from scratch. When I mix flour with a liquid it usually goes wrong. For my quiches at home I buy dough you can roll out but in preparation for this trip I thought I'd learn to make Pate Brisee from scratch. I managed to do it enough at home to get comfortable with knowing how the dough should feel and roll out. I guess that was like bringing an umbrella on a trip so it doesn't rain. The quiche here has Pate Brisee made from....a box. Yup. Even the French like their conveniences. A box of wonderful - and I mean really good- pie dough is 1 euro so there are now a few in my freezer!












From my seat at the dining room table, I see this. It is a nice reminder of where I am!

Bastille Day Photos

left: that was as much of the military parade as we were able to see.

Right: now that is a horse's ass! Can you see the shaving decoration?

That is a man in uniform!

Sweet Pea's first glimpse of the ET

Playing in La Place des Vosges

On our way to the Champs de Mars.

The crowd behind us.....(above)









The crowd in front of us.






Christophe----

Johnny Halladay--------

Not sure which fireworks picture is my favorite. I love them all!

Bastille Day & Bastille Day Eve

Monday night around 10 pm we ventured out to La Place de la Bastille which is so close the Boulevard outside our apartment was closed up to our block for the festivities. It doesn't get dark until about 10:30 pm here. There were two bandstands for some small rock bands to entertain a large crowd that had gathered on La Place like it was a giant parc. It is an otherwise very busy roundabout in Paris where one could easily get run over. It was fun to be able to meander onto the road where one would generally never step foot. There are cafe's all around adding to that Paris feel. The bands were okay and we stayed a while but as we turned to go a Brazillian Carnival drumming band started up and they stole the show. The entire crowd started to wiggle and shake to the drums - no one could stand still. We were up front and when it got too crowded for our own comfort level we edged our way out and headed back up the Bd to our apt. We stopped for some ice cream on the way and I had a nice chat with the shopkeeper. It is now 11:00 pm and we are back at the apt with our kids in bed and we can here the music through our open windows.

-------------------------------Bastille Day morning-----------------------------
Bright sunshine. Clear blue skies. What could be better? We tossed the kids out of bed at 8:00 am ( cuz they are still jetlagged and sleeping late which ordinarily I'd be so thankful for but here in Paris it just annoys me. WE HAVE STUFF TO DO!) and were able to hit the pavement at 9:15. We hopped on the metro at La Bastille on the 1 heading towards the Champs Elysees for a
ONCE IN A LIFETIME EXPERIENCE!

Once in a lifetime because there's no possible way I am ever doing it again.

Why?

Because there were more people there than I have ever seen in my entire life. Not just in one place. Just put together all the people I have ever glanced at in my 36 years and put them in a heavily barracaded area all trying to get a glimpse of the military parade. Seriously it was a frightening mob. I guess it might have been like Times Square on New Years Eve but with better weather. Add two children and you've got some stressed out parents. All I wanted to see was the military jets do there flyover which thankfully we could actually see. I unfortunately missed getting the blue, white and red jet streams on video b/c I had just put away my camera and they came out of no where. Oh well. It was spectacular though. We saw not one stitch of the parade. I guess we should have known we were in trouble when people were getting on the metro with step ladders.

So now how to get home?

We walked towards the river b/c getting back on the metro from whence we came was just not possible. We walked along a grand boulevard with very fancy shops until we came, gasp, to a view of the Eiffel Tower. Sweet Pea has been obsessed with seeing it and we hadn't made it over this far yet so she was itching to get a peek at the tower. She shreiked and in between jumping and twirlling around she shouted to us, "Its brown!?!" Not what I expected to hear out of her mouth when she saw it for the first time. But an observation nonetheless.

So while this morning was quite the experience, we are now going to sit down with a map to try to figure out how not to lose our lives or our kids getting to the fireworks tonight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is 11:00 am and the kids are still fast asleep. I am enjoying a quiet moment with my cup of coffee and some left over apricot/nectarine clafoutis, which I made for last night’s Champ de Mars picnic. Before you think that I am getting all fancy with food over here – I found clafoutis mix at the grocery which is much like brownie mix. All I had to do was put fruit on the bottom of the bowl and add milk to the mixture. And it was damn good.

So my muscles ache and my feet feel a bit bruised and I can only imagine how the kids are going to feel when they regain consciousness. Last night was insanity – both the good kind and the not so good kind.

After the parade we came back to the apartment and I prepared a picnic of Asparagus/Gruyere Quiche, cheeses, baguette, dried sausage, steamed haricots verts avec des tomates, pate, and the aforementioned clafoutis. (oh, I hear tiny foot steps coming down the hall…its Sweet Pea…I just asked her if she was ready for lunch and I got a big brown-eyed stare) Picnic ready to go and in the fridge, we went to the PdV to play and test out their internet. I got a big fat cyberspace “Non”. Nothing connected. Oh well.

Around 5:30 we packed up our picnic in our beloved green market wheely thing and headed to the metro. One block later we notice that one of the wheels is a bit wonky and upon further investigation I see that the wheel is in fact cracked – probably during the flight over here- and will not survive many more market trips – if not the adventure that lay before us this evening. So off we go pulling the food ever so gently onto line 8 which will take us directly to the Champ de Mars. It couldn’t have been easier. We arrived around 6:00 pm to find that the French really pack it in when it comes to public lawn events. We walked up the center with the Eiffel Tower rising above us until we came to a crossing which was meant for passage between the grassy spots but people seemed to be putting down blankets there – so as they say, “when in Rome”. We put down our blanket and did not unpack the picnic quite yet as we were waiting for les gendarmes to tell us to move-it or lose-it but they did not – they just walked on past in their packs of blue, chatting and smoking away. More groups filled in around us and then as space got really tight people decided the 1.5 feet between us and other groups were attractive places to set up camp and so they squeezed themselves in too. Now I know why the French keep their butts so small.

The concert started with a guy named Christoph something or other and he was fantastic. A French Jason Mraz if you will. The main event was Johnny Halladay and was an apparent gift – un vrai cadeau- from Sarkozy. The crowed was expected to be larger than usual this year for the feu d’artifice (fireworks) because of this guy and when he came out on stage everyone went nuts. SJ took one look at him and turned to me and said “he should be in Vegas.” An aging rockstar, clearly full of botox and collagen, dressed in all black sparkles who proceeded to sing hit after hit that the French swooned and sang along to. Everyone there knew every word to every song. And so did we, just in English. Every song was some American hit from one time or another just remade into a French version. It was hilarious. I have video. We decided he was just a clepto version of Neil Diamond. Very popular with all age groups and you could tell there was a bit of nostalgia for everyone with his music. It’s just that it wasn’t really his music.

After Johnny sang for over 2.5 hours, we were given the biggest light show of our lives. It is the 120th anniversary of the Eiffel Tower so they did a show that highlighted themes from each of the time periods the Tower has witnessed. The roaring 20’s, the hippie 60’s etc. Not only were the fireworks set off from the Tower itself, but there was a light show projected onto the Tower that was incredible. At times it made the tower look like it was dancing or for the 60’s theme they made the tower look like it was covered in flowers. It was unlike anything I have ever seen and when I think back to it I am sure that it made the next part of the evening worthwhile.

The show ended at 11:15 pm (fireworks could not start until 10:45 b/c it isn’t really dark until then and even then it isn’t pitch black) and the crowds bolted. I said earlier about the parade that there were more people in one place than I had ever seen before – well I now take that back. The crowd leaving the Champ de Mars was beyond words. A literal sea of people flooded the streets for blocks and blocks and blocks. It took us 2 hours to get home – most of that time walking. Each metro station we came to appeared to be vomiting people so we didn’t even try to get on a train until we were in another arrondisment and close to the river. Luckily we found a station that was not too crowded and were able to squeeze onto a train. We had to change once and with two kids and oh yeah, that breaking market wheely, it proved very difficult. We finally got back onto a line 8 and survived the trip back home – barely. After dragging that market bag across Paris for 2 hours, the little wheel snapped off as we crossed the street onto our block.

So now both of my munchkins are up and I am going to now feed and bathe them…..

A plus tard…

Photos!

Okay. Here are two more. Internet won't upload more but I am working from the apartment. Going to grab a glass of wine and head to PdV and try from there.....



Buddy and Sweet Pea on plane. He's eating & she's reading. What's new?









Place des Vosges on our way to Monoprix for groceries on our first day. Hello? Beautiful!

Okay, no one is going to the guillotine today. I got a photo up. ONE. I tried for two but only got one.

We are off to the parade in a few minutes and then I will hit PdV to see if the Mairie de Paris network is any better.

xoxo

SPY