(This is from an email John just sent to sister Kathryn, capturing the moment. I'll bring things up to date in a future post.)
Yes sis. I think I look slimmer these days. But it might have to do
with Anne's regime of climbing to the top of medieval castles that
are, of course, on the tops of mountains, unlike the parking lots
which are at the bottoms of mountains. Or maybe it's the flights of
stairs every day. I can't figure why Zepplin wrote Stairway To Heaven,
it's Hell, baby.
Maybe Elevator to Heaven, No. Surely I look slimmer because of my
decision to not take metro here, but walk several km.
No, wait, it's because, until now, I haven't had a computer to park my
ass at for hours at a time. It's certainly not because of the rich
French cuisine of the region our gîtes was in. EVERYTHING there is
foie gras. Foie gras for the entree, foie gras with the salad, foie
gras with the main. foie gras with the cheese plate (dessert), they
even have foie gras ice cream.
No. Just kidding. They don\t really have foie gras with the salad. If
the French in that region could figure out how to get foie gras
flavoured water, they would. You can order several types of water,
each coming in various strengths of carbonation, mild, medium, or
strong.
Seriously. Every few km we drove there was a goose farm, and all the
signage boasts their foie gras. Then there's all the duck meat. I was
apalled the first time the entree was fresh honeydew melon...draped
in duck meat. Yes, the salads had slices of duck meat. The food is so
rich it made my poor baby sick! Arret with the fatty meat already!
I'm amazed that when it's hot, I don't perspire grease.
Sweat is good.
Now I have to go. I need my cup of coffee. Anne's all happy because I
got up before even she had a shower. She's gleeful that I can't sleep
in and waste a ray of sun in Paris.
Why? Because the construction is going across from our building and
she does not have to wake me up. The man with the drill can wake me
up. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Wake up.
Brrrrrrr the sun has been up for a whole hour John.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Welcome to Paris.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. I'll be your host, doing root canal
surgery on this 6 storey wall for the rest of your stay.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Brrr Brrrrrrrrrrr
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Brr Just in case you thought there would be a
rhythmic pattern to lull you back to sleep Brr
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Brrr
Look I'm working on this square centimetre of the wall and there are 6
storeys of wall….
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr enjoy
your stay Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Anne is smiling smugly.
Her brain is no longer playing the tape, "I'm in Paris, I"m in Paris!"
She's playing her new hit, "I don't have to wait for John to get up!"
She's so excited she can barely hold on to the whattodinParis book
because she can plan MORE things to go to now that she's gained
several hours of non-John-sleeping-in time, and she's thinking "this
is the best construction zone ever!
And, oh dear, she's sad now, because instead of the 4-daymuseum pass
we got yesterday, she could have gotten the 6-day pass, because it was
Sunday, and she didn't know the construction would be this loud and
this early. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...coffee
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Brrr
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
.
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