The elegant entry into a show of some sort, home items I think.

The window of the same building shown above. I sure would have liked to have seen the interior.

A view of a street in the Marais leading to the church of St Paul St Louis.

Written and saved in January. I’m still in India.

What a difference between the two seasons. I remember fondly the warm, sunny days in Provence this summer. Especially when I look out the window here in Paris and see the gray skies and either rain or snow. It has been the coldest and snowiest winter I’ve experienced in Paris since moving here. I used to tell people that it was rare to get snow in Paris but now I’m not sure.
Maurice has been in Provence for almost two weeks supervising some work there. We’ve always felt that the house wasn’t really finished looking as you turned off the road right into our yard without there being any entrance. Most of the homes on our road have walls and gates so we finally decided to add this to our place too. We did this work in January because this is the only time a man that Maurice likes for work was free. He put in the tile around our pool and built our cabana outside before. Of course this is the time when Provence was hit with bad weather, lots of rain and snow. The man is still out there each day according to Maurice working away. He can’t do work with cement if it gets too cold. We are keeping our fingers crossed that this job gets finished before Maurice and I leave on our trip at the end of the month.
To show you how much Maurice loves his bread–he found the steep road that leads to our home covered in deep snow and it wasn’t safe to take the car out to get to stores. He, needing his daily bread, set off on foot to the nearest village to buy it, a round trip of one and a half hours. I would have done without the bread myself. I’m just glad he didn’t fall in the snow and hurt himself.

Welcome to sunny Provence. A look at the road Maurice couldn’t drive on.

This is a view of our pool in the back yard.

Not the same angle, but a look at a sunny day in Provence.

Still in India and am finally able to get online. We were in a little village without even an Internet cafe. Here is another saved posting.

In a complete generalisation, I think I have to say that the French can be very negative. Americans are known for their optimism and their “can do” spirit, I think. I don’t find Maurice negative though, although he does have a streak of meloncholy. We’ve had French visitors to our home in Provence before, and when they left I was thinking they didn’t like our place and one man was even pointing out things that he thought was wrong with it. It wasn’t until some Americans came to visit and told us how much they liked it that I thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad.

There are, of course, exceptions to this. I do know positive French people. But I was reminded again of my generalisation today when I needed to get my medical prescription filled. My usual pharmacy right across the street from us was closed but, being totally out of my meds, I decided to try another pharmacy that Maurice sometimes uses but which I’ve never been to. It took the pharmacist a while to get me into his system my being new there and he looked at my prescription which is stamped by the pharmacy each time the prescription if filled and he said, “Why are you using my pharmacy when you have used this one, one, two, three times to get your medication?” I guess he was a little irritated that it took a few minutes to get my information. I told him that my usual pharmacy was closed. He said that he hoped I would use his pharmacy from now on and I assured him I would-I’m not sure if this is true but I, being an American, wanted him happy.

He then asked me where I was from and when hearing I was an American asked how long I have lived in France. In the past when I have told someone, usually a man, how long I have been here they tell me that my French should be much better. To avoid this I told him that I lived in both France and the States. He then said, “You should stay in the States. France is a horrible place to live!” And then told me that France was taxing him so much that there was nothing left but air. I told him that I loved France but I couldn’t get him to agree with me. He even asked me where my husband payed taxes.
I left the pharmacy thinking what an unhappy person he was. I do know that taxes are high in France but I think the quality of life more than makes up for that fact. This isn’t the first time I have heard negative statements like this although I’ve heard positive comments from others, usually young people.

A saved posting while we are visiting India. We are exploring Rajasthan. India is a fascinating country.

A few scenes seen in the Marais a few weeks ago.

This was a surprise. I saw it in a small park across from the Swedish center. It’s art. They are doing a series of art having to do with the forest.

A “tree” standing in the courtyard of the Swedish center.

In 1910 there was a huge flood in Paris-you can find markers showing the height of the water around Paris-and this being 100 years later, there is a show of photos from then. It was Sunday and there was a really long line to get in so I waited for a week day to see it.

I am in India for three weeks and I’m not sure if I will be able to get to a computer. I’ve stockpiled some postings in the hope that I can quickly put up a posting. I may be able to post some photos from India but I’m not sure yet.
I thought I’d post some old photos that I like. These three are old ones that I took of the Eiffel Tower.

I was at a brocante on Rue Cler about 4 or 5 years ago when I saw this reflection of the Eiffel Tower in a mirror for sale there. Since then I am always looking for reflections. You never know what you will find.

A reflection of the Eiffel Tower in the glass of a door. I’m not sure where I took this one.

Yet another reflection. I took this photo on Tracodero after it had been pouring rain. I wish there had been room to get the whole tower.

Rue Montorgueil which runs both in the first and second arrondissements is always a pleasant area to take a stroll. It is mostly pedestrian except for an occasional car of a resident or delivery van and full of appealing architecture and fun shops.

A restaurant known for, what else?, its escargot. I love the sign. I tried to take a photo of a bunch of snail shells painted gold in a window there and a guy came out and told me I wasn’t allowed to. Why, I don’t know. Maybe it showed up in a magazine somewhere.

I think I’ve posted a photo of this before but it still catches my eye.

One of the small streets heading off of Montorgueil. So Parisian, right?

Some colorful garden furniture for sale. I guess you could put them in a kitchen too.