A few unrelated photos taken around Paris.

This is a view from up above of Bercy which was once a wine storage center and now houses many shops and restaurants. Maurice and I often take the metro and come here to see a movie.

le Train Bleu, a famous restaurant at Gare de Lyon. It’s beautiful inside but I didn’t have time to go inside as I was catching the TGV to Provence.

I’ve been seeing these signs all over Paris. They tell you how long the walk is from where you stand. I guess they are promoting physical fitness.

I’m often taken with lights and their colorful reflections on walls.

I got to go into a room on the 5th floor of the Brighton Hotel on Rue du Rivoli right across the street from the Tuleries Garden. They had a fantastic view.

A view towards Place de la Concorde where you can see the ferris wheel.

A look at one of the large ponds there and the beginning of the Louvre.

Here is the carrousel that I took a photo of not long ago at night, lit up in the snow. As you can see, the snow was all gone when I took this photo.

I have to say that this was the worst week yet. Monday started out well enough as Wolfman arrived. I left as I expected some dust and a lot of smoke. When I arrived back at our apartment the new counter was in but our apartment, every bit of it, was covered in dust. Two square areas had to be cut out of the new counter top for the stove and sink and to say that a lot of dust was made is an understatement. When I walked in it was all I could do to not cry. It seems like all I have done since this renovation started is vacuum and dust. I’d have insisted on a plastic curtain to the kitchen door if I’d know this was going to happen. Not only was the floor covered in dust, but it was on the curtains and the walls. I had shut the bedroom door but dust made its way under and around it. The workers had also walked through the dust and into the bathroom leaving tracks on the bedroom floor and our new bathroom floor.
To add to the misery, when the tile was removed from the kitchen wall an area that stuck out turned out to be a sort of false wall we guess to hide some electrical wiring so the cut to order kitchen counter didn’t fit. Wolfman fashioned an insert and supposedly some people will come and be able to fill it in so it won’t be seen and he also chisled a sort of tunnel for the electrical lines. At this point I don’t really care. The contractor came shortly after I arrived and I just stayed in the living room not wanting to talk to him. Maurice called me into the kitchen to explain to me what would be done to the counter and I walked in the kitchen and couldn’t even look at the contractor much less talk to him. I’m not usually rude but I didn’t have it within me to be pleasant.
I told Maurice, “They’ve beaten me down Maurice. They aren’t ever going to finish and we are never getting rid of all of the dust.” He said, “Where’s that American spirit? You never say never, you never give up.” But I think I can’t work up any more optimism.
Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday came but not a tile man. We did vacuum and dust but I still need to wash down the walls and vacuum the curtains if I can get up the energy.
We had to leave for Provence on the TGV at Noon and I have no idea when we come back and if we will walk in the door to find no plastic sheets on the floor and the tile in the kitchen finished. I wouldn’t surprise me to find it just like we left it.

The kitchen in transition. If you look closely, you can see Wolfman’s pack of cigarettes.

A back view of Wolfman. I wish I had gotten one from the front with his hair covered in dust. I noticed that he has a wedding ring. Someone has to live with him! If I had had my camera at one point I could have gotten a shot of his crack as he bent over but I’m sure you don’t mind missing out on that.

I’ve been writing a lot about my friend who came to Paris to see us for ten days. I met Nancy when I first moved to a small community in the middle of nowhere in Texas with my now exhusband (could it be almost thirty years ago?!!!) and she was across the street. She had just moved in a few months before from California. We didn’t know it at the time but both of our marriages were over. One woman, not a very good friend, couldn’t believe that I was friends with her, that we had anything in common. Nancy didn’t look like other Texas women. She had her hair dyed white and it stuck out in stylish spikes. She often wore shorts, high top tennis shoes and a t-shirt with the words “Everlast” across the chest. She was very religious even though she didn’t look like it and that’s what first drew us together, along with our children being the same ages. When I started having marriage problems I would go across the street to her house and sit in an antique barber chair that she had in her bedroom and pour my heart out. She had a jacuzzi too and we would sit out there late at night and drink margaritas and talk about life. I didn’t hear as much about her marriage as she did mine but it was only a year or so later that she left her husband and returned to California. Somehow we kept our friendship going and so it has remained to this day.
On one trip to see me in Austin where I then lived, she introduced me to cosmopolitans. I was only used to an occasional glass of wine so I drank too much the first time and then slept through the movie that we went to next. Afterwards we went into a Pier I and I bought several things for my house that I never would have done had it not been for those cosmos and her influence. She has really good taste in clothing and decorating and I always trust her advice. I went to see her in LA many times and that was how I came to love the area. Should I win the lottery, I will buy a little place there on the beach, earthquakes and all.
I enjoyed her visit here to Paris and we both drank way to much. I don’t think Maurice was too happy with it but how often do you have a best friend come to visit from across the ocean? We only had one tiff. It turned out that Nancy is a very slow walker and you can’t hurry her across streets as the crossing light turns red. She refuses to go and waits for the next green light. In any case we were just entering a metro platform. The train was there and the doors were open. I said, “Hurry, Nancy!” She doesn’t do hurry so I stepped into the doorway just as the bell went off saying the doors were closing and held it open.
“Get on Nancy!”
She said, “No!”
“Get on!!!”
“No.”
The doors closed on me. The train, luckily, won’t take off if someone is in the door. Then a lady inside grabbed my coat and tried to pull me in. Fortunately, the metro doors opened again and I stepped out and we waited for the next train. I was so mad. I couldn’t believe she had done that to me. I got over it but I never tried to hurry her again. In any case, friends like her don’t come along very often in a lifetime.

Her very stylish bracelet. She always inspires me to dress better than I do.

There are several really nice metro stops although most of them aren’t that exciting. The Arts et Metiers metro stop on line 11 is really worth going out of your way to visit. I like the science museum that is at the stop as well.

As you can see, it is totally covered in copper.

Teak wood chairs to sit on.

The ceiling over the tracks. It’s supposed to be like a giant engine I think.

A quick trip into Pere Lachase with my friend visiting from the States.

We first went to see the burial site of Jim Morrisson. I have no idea why people still want to visit his grave but, as you can see by all of the flowers, they do. A young man from Poland told me that he still lives in his music.

There is a barrier around his tomb because of all of the grafitti and people wanting a souvinier from the tomb. There used to be a full time guard too but I didn’t see one this time. There is a lot of grafitti on a nearby tree.

There has been a lot of rain this year so green moss is everywhere.

The ancient Jewish section of the cemetery has this long line of trees leading to an old tomb at the end.