My sweet kitten is at home wherever her blanket is. At the moment, that's in Reston, VA.
Ooh la la
I don't know why I'm surprised, but I have to say, I wasn't expecting Paris to be quite so ... Parisian. Seriously, it's a little over-the-top:
Charming windy cobblestone streets. Wrought-iron balconies with lovingly tended windowboxes. Elegant French mothers waiting outside the créche for their adorable French children to run out chattering about gâteau. Entire shops selling nothing but cheese just down the block from entire shops selling nothing but meat. Honeymooning couples canoodling on shady park benches. Amusement and disdain on the faces of the French people when you (I) attempt to speak their language. Inconspicuous plaques declaring that "Van Gogh lived here" or "Satie lived here" and other astonishing things. Sidewalk cafés and crêpe stands as far as the eye can see. Windows open and laundry hanging from curtain rods (including, directly across the street from me, someone's leotard). Dozens of little red chimneys on every building.
And that's just in my NEIGHBORHOOD! In ONE DAY! I haven't seen the Eiffel Tower, or the Champs Elysées, or the Louvre, or any of those quintessential Paris icons yet. It's all so very Parisian it's almost too much to handle.
Oh, what am I talking about? It's perfection! It's what I've been dreaming about for years! I am soaking it in and loving every minute of it!
Though if I see a mime on the street anytime soon, it might just push me over the edge.
My street, the lovely Rue Chappe
This view is STEPS from my front door. Very steep steps, but steps nonetheless.
Charming windy cobblestone streets. Wrought-iron balconies with lovingly tended windowboxes. Elegant French mothers waiting outside the créche for their adorable French children to run out chattering about gâteau. Entire shops selling nothing but cheese just down the block from entire shops selling nothing but meat. Honeymooning couples canoodling on shady park benches. Amusement and disdain on the faces of the French people when you (I) attempt to speak their language. Inconspicuous plaques declaring that "Van Gogh lived here" or "Satie lived here" and other astonishing things. Sidewalk cafés and crêpe stands as far as the eye can see. Windows open and laundry hanging from curtain rods (including, directly across the street from me, someone's leotard). Dozens of little red chimneys on every building.
And that's just in my NEIGHBORHOOD! In ONE DAY! I haven't seen the Eiffel Tower, or the Champs Elysées, or the Louvre, or any of those quintessential Paris icons yet. It's all so very Parisian it's almost too much to handle.
Oh, what am I talking about? It's perfection! It's what I've been dreaming about for years! I am soaking it in and loving every minute of it!
Though if I see a mime on the street anytime soon, it might just push me over the edge.
My street, the lovely Rue Chappe
This view is STEPS from my front door. Very steep steps, but steps nonetheless.144/365
It was good to actually unpack, although it didn't last long. I'm already off on another adventure!
Oh, Savannah, don't you cry for me (142/365, 143/365)
The good thing about inauspicious beginnings is that they breed low expectations, and the good thing about low expectations is that they often breed pleasant surprises.
That's the rational part of my brain talking, of course, which wasn't much in evidence on Friday evening when we rolled into Savannah after 2 long days of driving (with several excruciating hours of NOT driving while stopped in construction traffic). It wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me tear up at the sight of our crappy hotel room, with its damp carpet and special combo smell of cigarettes and mildew. It wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me see the constant rain as a sign of impending doom. And it certainly wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me pick a horrible, no-good, very bad fight with my CameraMan. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I've wanted to go to Savannah ever since I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and when CM found out he had an extra day to get to the Trap, I suggested we take a little Southern vacation on the way. I pictured walking around the sun-dappled historic district with our cameras, listening to genteel accents everywhere we went, and eating large quantities of honest-to-goodness Southern food washed down with sweet tea. All of which we eventually did, but when we arrived that seemed impossible. We had been plagued by rain off and on the whole time we drove, and the forecasters were predicting non-stop rain all weekend in Savannah. So much for sun-dappled.
Of course, everything turned out fine, as these things always do. We switched rooms, we made up, and the sun even came out…for about a minute. And while it may not go down as the best Bossy-Melear vacation ever, we ended up having a lovely time.
The highlights:
The pictures (more on Flickr):
142/365
143/365
That's the rational part of my brain talking, of course, which wasn't much in evidence on Friday evening when we rolled into Savannah after 2 long days of driving (with several excruciating hours of NOT driving while stopped in construction traffic). It wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me tear up at the sight of our crappy hotel room, with its damp carpet and special combo smell of cigarettes and mildew. It wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me see the constant rain as a sign of impending doom. And it certainly wasn't the rational part of my brain that made me pick a horrible, no-good, very bad fight with my CameraMan. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I've wanted to go to Savannah ever since I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and when CM found out he had an extra day to get to the Trap, I suggested we take a little Southern vacation on the way. I pictured walking around the sun-dappled historic district with our cameras, listening to genteel accents everywhere we went, and eating large quantities of honest-to-goodness Southern food washed down with sweet tea. All of which we eventually did, but when we arrived that seemed impossible. We had been plagued by rain off and on the whole time we drove, and the forecasters were predicting non-stop rain all weekend in Savannah. So much for sun-dappled.
Of course, everything turned out fine, as these things always do. We switched rooms, we made up, and the sun even came out…for about a minute. And while it may not go down as the best Bossy-Melear vacation ever, we ended up having a lovely time.
The highlights:
- Glazed pecans. So delicious. We consumed enough to make up for the fact that we ate no peaches.
- Walking along the river in the evening.
- The trolley tour, complete with ridiculous tour guide (a must, I think).
- Dinner at The Olde Pink House. One of the best meals I've had in a long time. We ate fried green tomatoes for the first time (and grits for the first time at breakfast, too!).
- Mercer House. The tour was pretty boring, but it was a pleasure just to be in the beautifully restored home. Plus, it's always surreal to go somewhere you've read about or seen in a movie, isn't it?
- Last but not least, Savannah itself. Even in the rain, it has to be one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. It's full of live oaks, and Spanish moss, and magnolia trees, and that Southern architecture I love so much. Everywhere you look there's a fountain, or a sculpture, or some intricate ironwork. We'll definitely be going back.
The pictures (more on Flickr):
142/365
143/365
Follow me
I don't like to think of myself as a follower, a sheep, a trend whore. Which is why I find it necessary to tell you, that despite my "new" Twitter profile, I actually joined Twitter back in October 2007. That's right, way back when, before everyone was talking about it and using "tweet" as a verb, and WELL before Ashton Kutcher and Oprah got on board.
Okay, now that I've gotten that off my chest... So I rejoined Twitter. When I tried it before, nobody I knew was actually on it, and I eventually got bored with it. Now, everyone and their mother (although not Mama Bossy...YET) is tweeting, so I'm giving it another try, in the hopes that it will be fun this time. I'm looking down the barrel of a very long CameraManless summer—I need something to occupy my time.
So go ahead and follow me, why don't you?
Okay, now that I've gotten that off my chest... So I rejoined Twitter. When I tried it before, nobody I knew was actually on it, and I eventually got bored with it. Now, everyone and their mother (although not Mama Bossy...YET) is tweeting, so I'm giving it another try, in the hopes that it will be fun this time. I'm looking down the barrel of a very long CameraManless summer—I need something to occupy my time.
So go ahead and follow me, why don't you?
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