My Beloved Sherlock. 1998 - 2011

A very bittersweet Valentine's Day, 2011.

Oh how we miss you, Sherlock, my hippie dog. You were the kindest, gentlest, sweetest boy. And the most patient. Your patience with your brother, Watson, is a lesson many of us can learn from.

Thank you for being You. I miss you and love you, always,
Mommy

Winding Down. Or Is It Up?

I cannot believe that my time here in Paris is quickly coming to a close. It seems like only yesterday that my landlord nearly stood me up and left me to wonder if this had possibly been the dumbest idea I had ever had. Ever.

But Fate, Karma, Destiny, whatever you choose to call it, has a way of confirming or denying the decisions we've made.

And while I can admit to many doubts along the way, the outcome has more than exceeded the goal.

And I'm ready to come home.

While I have only three full days left here in Paris, (which I can hardly believe!), I will be gathering chocolates, caramels, possibly some macarons, and a few other memories of this City of Light which I have called home for the past month.

And for those of you wondering, my dear Monsieur Contrustion Worker has been noticably absent this past week. I intend on writing him a very strongly worded letter about this.

A bientot!

This is for the Birds.

It really is for the birds. On Sundays, on the Ile de la Cite, the normally pleasant flower market turns into a bird market. It's much smaller than what I remember, but if you're in the market for birds, or bird-stuff, this is apparently the place to go in Paris. The really weird thing, there were a lot of men in black leather jackets hanging around. And they didn't look like the type that would take too kindly to questions either.

And since it was right around the corner, I had to take one more walk by Notre Dame. It really is a masterpiece.

And since it was right around the corner, I had to take a stroll to Ile St.-Louis, and have a famous Berthillon ice cream cone. I ate it too fast to get a picture. But it's every bit as good as they say!

The Coolest Organic Building. Ever!

Wordless.

The King's House. The Queen's House.

Henry IV built this little pad for he and his wife in 1605. 405 years ago. That just blows my mind. Place des Vosges, in the heart of the Marais, reminded me of Plaza Mayor in Madrid (but without all the tapas bars!). It's filled with cafes, art galleries, boutiques, and offices of architects. With it's peaceful park in the center, the huge statue of Louis XIII, fountains, sandboxes, and trees in bloom, it's hard to imagine that this once was the sight of jousting matches.

Victor Hugo lived in one of the "townhouses" and wrote "Les Miserables" while here.

I love history.

Two little asides: I was treated to an impromptu gymnastic show during lunch. And Rue St. Antoine and Rue Faubourg St. Antoine are not the same street. Just a reminder for the future.

Photos 1 and 2: Place des Vosges stables from Hotel Sully courtyard (Hotel just means really big house in French, by the way).
Phote 3: The Queen's House. If you look very closely, you can see the fleur de lys at the top, indicating a Royal Residence, so there.
Photo 4: Townhouses surrounding Le Residence Royale.
Photo 5: The Queen's House, again.
Photo 6: Louis XIII (the son of Henry IV).
Photo 7: More townhouses.
Photo 8: Ceiling detail.
Photo 9: The King's House.

It's funny, you're walking down the street (Rue St. Antoine, not the Faubourg one), past stores, cafes, tabacs, a McDonald's, turn the corner, and Hello! The King's house is right there. I just love the mushing together of the old and the new here. The appreciation for history and what was built before. Granted, it's a heck of a lot more pleasant to look at than the typical strip-mall. Maybe if we could have played in the sandbox in the Queen's backyard...

Nothing but Trouble.

I knew it would be a problem. I predicted the problem. Little did I know just how big of a problem this would be.

On my way to deliver greetings to the friend of friend, I found my way (ooops!) to Le E'toile d'or, the chocolate shops to end all chocolate shops!

This will be my undoing. Denise Acabo, the proprietess, has discovered my weakness for caramel. Or rather, I have found my nirvana. And my dedication to chocolate. And I will not divulge any more secrets. Except one:

Randi, expect unbelieveable goodness when I return!