Go to Place Vendome in Paris and there you will find the world famous Ritz Hotel. I don’t venture there very often but a friend of mine wanted to look at their flower arrangements. Apparantly they have a new florist so we stopped by. The security guy inside the front door looked at us with a fishy eye but let us in anyway.

Here is a large flower arrangement in a salon. He, the floral designer, likes to use black glass I’m told.

A closeup of the flowers. You can see the reflection of the beautiful room in the mirror. We sat there on a couch for a little while and just enjoyed the ambience.

There was even a fireplace burning real wood. An employee came by every twenty minutes or so to keep it going and to fluff up the cushions. Such luxury.

I wasn’t having a bad day but I was carrying a heavy sack filled with silverware that I had bought on sale. Why is that stuff so heavy? I thought, since I had my heavy load, and being in the Marais I would head to rue des Francs Bourgeois and catch my favorite bus, number 29. It goes right by my apartment building and would save me the trudge from the nearest metro stop to us. I arrived on the rue, looked left and there, half a block from where I stood, was bus 29 at the stop. I ran like a mad woman waving my Navigo pass hoping the driver would see me and take pity on me but he wouldn’t even make eye contact with me and I’m sure it’s against the law or something to stop on the street where there isn’t a stop but still. Bus 29 doesn’t have that many buses as some other routes have. If I stood there I knew there would be a 20 to 30 minute wait. I even half heartedly tried to make it to the next stop further on by the Place des Vosges as it wasn’t far and the bus had to stop at a red light but, alas, I just couldn’t make it.
Well, dang, although I was thinking more than that. I decided to make the walk back to the metro stop taking a short cut through the Place des Vosges cursing as I marched along with my heavy bag pulling my arm down and my back starting to hurt along with my feet. I noticed a man and woman a little way ahead. He was taking a photo of a little table outside a jewelry shop there in the walkway which always has an orchid plant on it. I’ve taken a photo of it myself as it looks really sweet and lovely sitting there. I stopped to wait for him to finish his photo. As I walked by I glanced at him and stopped. It was Paul McCartney of The Beatles fame. Who hasn’t thrilled to their songs? I spent many an hour in high school listening over and over again to them.
I was so startled that I said, “Oh, Hi!”. He looked at me like, “Do I know you?” but in a second said Hi back. Then I blurted out with my hand on my heart, “I’m just so surprised to see you here!” And he replied, “I like surprising people.” Isn’t that nice? I didn’t have my camera with me or I’m sure I would have taken a photo. By the way, the woman he was with is the one he is rumored to be dating now according to my Google search.
Anyway, as I boarded my metro I thought how nice it was to have seen Paul McCartney and how exciting it had made my afternoon. Maybe the fates were making it up to me for having missed that bus. And, in the funny way things can turn out-I would never have seen him if I hadn’t missed the bus. I’m sure he went right back to his hotel room to write about me too.

There is a little shop along Rue du Rivoli, not far from Angelina where you can get world famous hot chocolate, that sells really delightful dishes and jewelry. They are rather fantastic looking like something out of Alice in Wonderland to me but I think it would be fun to serve tea to company with a set of these.

Pink isn’t really in my house at all but I like these. The company, by the way, is called Soznick.

Champagne glasses too. (I also saw some painted high top tennis shoes there that were fun.)

Some of their jewelry in the window.
I heard that the plates were started when the designer was going to have a party and couldn’t find any dishes that she liked, so she made her own. I’ve never been able to find out if this was true. I did some research some time ago thinking I would interview her but she is illusive, rather like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

Down the smaller street in front of her apartment and then across a large one at the end was the small neighborhood grocery store, 8 A Huit, that the American often shopped in for last minute items that she had forgotten at the market or larger grocery store in her once a week shopping. When the American had first moved to Paris this store had been owned by an older couple who kept the store immaculate, the shelves fully stocked, always had fresh vegetables in little bins outside and were quick to put away newly ordered foods and other items as soon as they arrived. Then one Autumn after being away all summer, the American entered the store to find that it had been sold to a younger couple. The previous owners hadn’t even said good-bye, rather like the couple who had done the same thing with the corner boulangerie. She expected that things would change with new ownership and, of course, she was right. In the grocery store there would be gaps on the shelves as items were bought and not quickly replaced. More candy was in evidence but her favorite wine was often not restocked. The next year there was yet another couple owning the store and again this year was someone new. The American went in for her usual bottle of wine and there was a new guy behind the counter. She wasn’t sure if he was the owner or just an employee but as she headed back to the area where the wine was kept he followed her and apologized for the big container of things blocking access to the wine and saying he would move it if she needed him to. He noticed her accent and asked if she were English. When he heard that she was from America he told her that he was from Algeria, not really an expat in the same way as the American but he seemed to think so. As she was checking out he told her, “I adore America!” It turned out that he had never been there but that didn’t stop his enthusiasm for the country. He wanted to see New York City. He even knew where Texas was located. She left the store thinking what a friendly guy he was but the store was a mess with supplies and canned goods stacked all over the place with big containers of newly ordered items blocking the aisles waiting to be put away. She wondered how long this new owner would last.
She enjoyed her encounter with him much more than the one earlier that day at the bus stop. She was sitting there drinking a Diet Coke on a warm winter day waiting for the bus to arrive when the odor of beer wafted her way. It came from the direction of a man sitting nearby who held up his can of beer and said something like, “Look at us, both having something to drink!” He wanted to carry on a lengthy conversation with the American so she pulled out the conversation stopper saying she didn’t speak French. He looked a little disappointed. The American was glad when her bus arrived.

A few shots taken in a cemetery or a church in Montmartre.

A stained glass seen through a cross shape.

A tomb falling into disrepair.

An angel with flowers.

I’ve always liked this stained glass window in the Saint Pierre church. It is Saint Geneveve with Notre Dame protected under her robes.

Often when leaving the Louvre and crossing the Pont des Arts I am asked what the building is on the other side of the Seine. It is the Institute de France which is made up of five academies, the best known being the Academie Francaise which is known for its regulation of the French language among other things. The building itself was bequeathed by Cardinal Mazarin before he died and his tomb is inside. I’ve long wanted to see the inside, just as I did Sorbonne University, and so jumped at the chance when I read about a tour inside.

A Sundial. I saw one inside of the Sorbonne as well.

In the chapel which is under the dome in the middle of the structure is the tomb of Mazarin, again, rather like Sorbonne where there is an equally striking tomb for Richlieu.

All of the ritual ceremonies take place under this cupola. Notice that it is oval in shape but a round dome on the outside.

Napoleon was a member. In fact, he had the whole organization moved back here after he was emporor as it had been closed during the Revolution when part of it was used as a prison.

A view of the whole chamber which I thought was really impressive.