Category Archives: Paris
Because of a telephone setting which was unchanged upon our return to Paris, our house phone has not been ringing. That wasn’t so horrible. Since we acquired a cat last year, we receive regular phone calls (from somewhere in Switzerland
The thunderstorm skirts Paris. Silently — the sound will not breach the apartment. I wonder where I am. How I came to. Be here. I reflect to the time when she and I were apart. Her spending summers in France.
We’re fortunate to have a really fabulous neighborhood library. This is the main reading lounge just beyond the front desk. Stitched together with AutoStitch
So I was out with The Boy — making the racing — shopping for the evening meal. This one was special (The Woman’s Birthday) so it was an unusually long and elaborate race. I should explain: In French, doing the daily
It was when he started to play that I began to wonder if he had achieved the highest standards of fakery — was he miming the instrument? The backpack he wore was suspicious. Not an ordinary one, it was more