A few photos I took while wandering around the Left Bank with someone else who likes taking photos.

I love the doors, windows and iron work that are everywhere in Paris.

There are many secret passageways and courtyards in the area. This is one of my favorites.

A little address sign within the courtyard which I think is charming.

Of course, a walk in Paris isn’t complete without seeing a dog somewhere. Happily, this dog was only peeing. Note that there isn’t a leash. I’m always mystified as to how people can train their dogs to stay with them. Mine were always off like the wind the first chance they got or pulling me behind them if I had them on a leash coughing and choking all the way.

My new blog: Sideroads of Europe

Whenever I am in the neighborhood, I always go and look at the window displays at Mariage Freres, the famous tea shop. They always do such a good job.

This is a little music box that holds your tea. It plays music from the opera, Madame Butterfly when you open it.

Isn’t this lovely? I loved the glass teapot on top of the larger container. So elegant.

Snowflakes inside teacups. I wonder if they sold them as ornaments. I forgot to look.

My new blog: Sideroads of Europe

I’ve had a few questions and comments here and there and I thought I would clear up the whole mystery of where and how I live. I know there are hundreds out there wondering. Some people have said, “You’re in Paris? I thought you lived in Provence.” Actually, I am lucky enough to live in both places, though not at the same time. When I first married Maurice and moved to France we lived in an apartment he bought in Paris. When he retired we built a house in Provence. At the time we thought we would be living there just about full time but after our first winter there and the drama of the plumbing that wouldn’t work that had us heading back to Paris on friggin’ Christmas day, we decided to just live in Provence from Spring to Fall. It gets cold there in the winter, believe it or not, and a little desolate and deserted feeling, a little depressing. Usually we go somewhere for vacation, somewhere warm, often make a trip to the States or just hang out in Paris, not a bad thing.
Maurice bought our place in Paris before we married. I like it, on the whole. It seemed very small to me when we first moved in, with a broad entry hall, a very narrow kitchen and three rooms and a bathroom. We are on the third floor if you are a European or the fourth if you are an American and there is no elevator. This is really hard when you are carrying up luggage or groceries and I sometimes wonder what we will do when we get really old. There is an elderly lady two flight above us and she still seems to do well-so far.
Some people want to see the kitchen. There isn’t much to it although it was what we redid first. There is a small washer/comination dryer hidden behind a false cabinet door. It is so small that I have to do loads more often than in the States where there are those luxuriously huge washers and, unfortunatlely, it takes hours to do one load and things end up mysteriously wrinkled and, thus, I have to do more ironing than I used to. I have an electric stove and oven-gas wasn’t a choice- a small refrigerator and a really small freezer. When the kitchen guy planned it all, he planned the microwave to go above the freezer-I could imagine hot liquid pouring down on me from the great height when I tried to remove some cooked dish. The reason we didn’t put it up there-besides the possibility of second degree burns- was because the space wasn’t big enough and because the freezer door is attached to a false cabinet door, we would have the freezer door open every time we wanted to microwave something. Seemed strange to me.

The washer

From our bedroom we can see the street and the buildings straight across from ours. Sometimes I can see people inside them working at their desks or, even, in their underwear (note to self: you can see people behind sheer curtains at night if the lights are on). From our kitchen and living room we can see a courtyard down below, split into four parts as four buildings are joined together forming a square within, very common in Paris. Little buildings are in each square for garbage cans, bicycles and baby strollers. I can also see people across the way: an old couple behind grimy windows with a curtain hanging in tatters, their hair shining silver in their ceiling light, a young man with cerebral palsy, constantly moving in an unending dance. I also see families in their lives, then the shutters will be closed for months and, soon, there is a new family or couple, painting the walls and moving in. Sort of like the movie, Rear Window, but no murders and I don’t have binoculars.

My new blog: Side Roads of Europe

This post is for Sylvette. She is Maurice’s sister and she reads my blog, well mainly she looks at the photos as her English is about like my French. Anyway, the last time I saw her was at her house for a party on January 2nd where I ate and drank way too much. Why do I mix champagne and two kinds of wine and cognac? Don’t you think I would know better by now? Anyway, Sylvette said she wanted to see a photo of our apartment now that the renovation is finished.

This is a view of the living room which was once a bedroom. We finally got the book shelf up after agonizing over how difficult it would be. It turned out to be easy. We didn’t anchor it to the wall as advised but it seems very stable to me. Now I have to find some attractive things to put on the shelves. The ones in the middle top are meant for CD’s. I don’t have any here in Paris as I listen to the radio and our car is in Provence, my main CD listening place. It is nice to have the space for company now in our little apartment.

Here is my cat, Elliot, on the rug that cost more than I thought it did. I like it now that it is in place but man, it sheds more than my cat. Every day I can see little blue fuzz balls all over the place and blue hairs on the floor of my bathroom which is white. I guess it is going to do that for quite a while and, meanwhile, I vacuum just about every day-one of my least favorite things to do, right up there with ironing.

Visit my other blog: side roads of europe

As you may know, I am involved in a very peripheral way with a cool little accessories line called Lollipops. The designer happens to be my daughter in law so I have nothing whatsoever to do with her genetically, sad to say, but I have gotten to take photos for catalogues of her shoes. Today I got to watch while professionals took photos for publicity. There was a lot of sitting around while things got set up, the light was made right, the model’s hair or makeup attended to, that sort of thing. I wish I were at the level to do that sort of photography but I think it would make me a nervous wreck. In any case, here are some photos I took while watching.

Here is the model being asked what she wants for lunch while the makeup lady puts some makeup on her legs. The makeup artist was interesting to watch. She has that edgy thing going with bleached blonde hair with dark roots, some sort of arm warmers on her arms with her short sleeved Tshirt, big baggy cargo pants with all sorts of pockets loaded with the tools of her trade, and funky hiking boots. She sometimes pulled out some small binoculars to look at the model to see if she needed to retouch the makeup. She also carried a tiny little camping stool to sit on as I’m sure that there must be a lot of down time for her. There was a guy there who did the model’s hair too.

Here is the model. Isn’t she beautiful? She actually isn’t French, but German. I knew this when she came up to me, shook my hand, and said hello. She was very friendly and didn’t have that snooty thing going some beautiful women have.

Here is the model doing her thing.

Here is the photographer-a very nice guy, taking a photo of the model.

The camera is hooked up to a special monitor and a computer so you can look at each photo as you take it and see if you need to increase light, etc. I coveted the lenses being used.

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