renoncule

These are my favorite flowers of all time. If anyone asks... They are called: renoncule.

I learned that today (after living here 4.5 years!) at the market. I love the flower man. He's always so jovial I wonder if he's really French. Maybe one day I will ask him. He gave mon petit fee a rose and then proceeded to tell me he was Rambo. Where that came from I don't know. "Where's my knive, where's my knife" he kept saying. Good golly. Definitely was a good laugh though, that's for sure. He was so kind to write down the name of this flower for me so I just had to take a photo of it. Even the color has to be my favorite, too. And at only six euro a bouquet, I can afford them weekly!

And I need all the cheer I can get as I am in need of a little sensual stimulus (not sexual - something to stimulate my senses, because Paris doesn't do it anymore - been there, done that, seen it. Ok that's not really accurate as there are many things I still enjoy, but the honeymoon is over). These days I leave the tea pot on for so long, all the water boils out of it. Or I put the tea pot on the stove and forget to turn the stove on. I had some raw milk that was going to expire the next day so I thought I'd be clever and make a delicious custard out of it only to forget that I had put it in the oven. "That's what timers are for" you say?!?! Well smarty pants, I did set the timer, listened to to it buzz and then just went about my evening like la de da. Is this mommy brain? I need another good long sniff of those flowers.

too long

You know you've been living outside the US too long when....
a family member has cancer and you send a sprout tray and broccoli seeds for sprouting.

But hey, there's good reason for that. Check it out:
http://www.mercola.com/1997/archive/broccoli_sprouts.htm

back to normal

This season the weather has been so fantastic I have forgotten what city I am living in. Blue skies and no rain puts anyone in a good mood. Maybe that's why I am feeling so well. But the last couple of days, it has gone back to normalicy for this time of year. Yucky, gray skies, rain, toe freezing weather. Today was no exception. Mon petit fee and I went to the jardin des poetes just to get out of our three room apartment. (Three rooms meaning, one living area, one dining area, one bedroom - literally, three rooms). Of course it was drizzling, so the playground was wet. But they have these beautiful greenhouses, one of which we entered. There we found another American expat! She had three kids and we had such a nice time chatting while the kids played together and watched the fish in the little ponds. With them an hour went by faster than a minute alone and all too soon it was time to say goodbye.

We were to take the bus home and ended up waiting a good ten minutes for it, standing out in the light rain. I stopped carrying an umbrella as it is just one more thing to carry and ok, really, it is just so much effort to carry it open while pushing the stroller. They need to make a stroller with an attachable umbrella for mommy. How on earth am I supposed to push the thing with just one hand over cobble stone/rocks/bumpy pavement with the full weight of mom petit fee and a load of groceries??? Come on entrepeneurs, here's and easy one for you. Donc voila, I did have the stroller with a bag and some odds and ends I purchased at the store just before going to the playground/greenhouse. School had just gotten out - it's only half days on Wednesdays - so there were about 20 kids waiting at the bus stop. They all got on and I stood there looking at a bus full of people, ready to get on. The driver took one look at me and informed me that I would have to fold up my stroller as the bus was full. I understand the bus driver does have this right, and legally the passengers are required to oblige the driver. But it was raining, I had a lot of loose things in the stroller of which what was I to do with? It's not like there wasn't ANY room for us. People would just have had to move back a little. But it's this mentality that "pfff, oh la la, c'est trop difficile..." So I just told him never mind and walked in the rain with mon petit fee the rest of the way home. It was only about a 15 minute walk the way I walk (you know, one foot in front of the other), but did I mention that it was raining, I was cold, and mon petit fee was hungry??? Guess there are worse things though so I shouldn't complain. I do have feet to walk with in the first place. Good grief Charlile Brown. Where have you done and gone?

Wow, been a while. Been busy. l got a very nice compliment today. A man said l had a "little" accent, l was from there? He was surprised l was American, and he said he loved my accent! Wow, ok. That was much needed for me today.

l actually went to a cafe and had a glass of wine. Normally l would not do this as most cafes are often very smokey. But the ban on smoking in cafes was put into effect, so now l can go. And l can take mon petit fee with me, too (if necessary)!

This holiday season, we didn't go home and l really felt it. Tickets are so expensive and we don't have a money tree. lt would be thousands of dollars that we don't have. lt was quite lonely without the chaos of my family. Living here is great, so many things l like about it, but l really need a bigger and more regular dose of the nest l flew from.

Next week l begin playing in a real French orchestra. The first three l played in before were French, but many of the players were other nationalities. One conductor was American, one British, and one Spanish. This one will be almost all Frenchies and the director, French. Good for my language acquisition.

l miss the US. Especially now when history is being written - the first African-American president! They talk about it over here - is America ready or not? l am making sure that we are registered to vote for this one, though l have done so for, gee, every election since l was 18.

Allors bonne sante a tout cette annee 2008.

when in rome

oooh la la! This is our second trip to Rome. First one was six years ago. I came for a music festival for three weeks and then took a week to tour the country. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. And now after these very short eight days, I do think I will cry going back to Paris. Yes, Paris is, well, Paris. Beautiful, elegant, refined, cultured, but also very high maintenance. I am so ready to kick up my feet and take the corn husk out of my butt. The Italian people are extraordinary. I can't remember the last time I felt this alive and just so good! Men make you feel desired, women talk to you, and kids play nice. People smile. It's wonderful.

There is so much artwork around the city and in churches all of which are free including St. Peter's. We took the above photo in one of the churches we happened to enter. Michelangelo's Pieta is housed in St. Peter's Basilica, also free and utterly breathtaking. There are so many amazing sculptures by other artists as well, but there is really something to Michelangelo's works when you see them up close and in real life. It is like they have a living soul. Guess that's why he is so well known.

The Campo de Fiori has a pretty good market (photo) though small, and there are many piazzas, oblisques, fountains, etc. all around the city.

For Halloween we went to the Trevi Fountain. Mon petit fee dressed up as Tigger. People got a kick out of seeing him there. Since he didn't do any trick or treating, we had some gelato instead.
Oh, and we went to a few bars, had a few beers, relaxed, I had my FAVORITE shot - a B52. Sooooo good. And we even got some FREE food. What a foreign concept. I don't think they do that in France, at least not from our experience. And they don't really have bars in Paris, either except for a few Irish/English pubs. The local brasseries/cafes are no where near equivalent to a pub/bar either. Ahh, bring on the tissues while the corn husk is reinserted.
http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/rome-st-peters-basilica.htm

poopmobiles

Yes, there is such a thing and one of these days I will actually remember my camera and take a picture of it - the poopcycle. Acutally, there are two different types of vehicles that I have seen here that scoop the poop. Mon petit fee accurately described one the other day, "mommy, that's the poop motorcycle." It is a motorcycle that on the back of it has a tank with a hose attached so the rider can just vaccuum the poop into the tank and then ride off to the next dump. And the other one is a golf cart with the same contraption. I haven't seen these in the center of Paris (I am just outside Paris), maybe because they just pay the street cleaners for this, or maybe because it is a little more expensive for this. Not sure. But hey, I don't clean up after the tooter anymore as long as she goes where she is supposed to go - in the gutter, on the grass at the theater, or on a tree, you know, the designated dog poop places. No one else cleans up here, so after four years of shoving a bag under the tooter's butt to collect the remains of her dinner, I turn my head and walk away. Still grosses me out though, but hey, when in Rome... (next week, baby, and I can't wait!!!!!!)

And today is much, much better. A very large dose of music always does the trick.

mommy's woes

Balance = Happiness

How does one achieve these two things? Ignorance is bliss? So I just think too much, is that it? Because I certainly am no genius that's for sure. Last year I quit my part-time job because I felt so guilty for leaving mon petit fee to go to work. It didn't feel right and I have learned time and time again to trust my instincts. So there you go. And now I feel like I have given up so much of myself that I have forgotten who I am. Just now, I had had it so I took a break (thank goodness I was able!) and left the apartment (mon petit fee in the care of the porcellino) to come to a cafe just across the street and sit for thirty minutes all by myself. That is bliss, something I need to do more than once every few weeks or longer.

Ever hear of a babysitter? Yes, but I don't want to hire just anyone, definitely not a total stranger, and well, you get what you pay for, so that is something that I would not be frugal on. I don't want to be a slave either, but it seems like being "mommy" means the same thing. Well at least I can vote and get out of the apartment daily. Ok, and I can also make play dates and grow my own sprouts and pick which cd's I'd like to listen to, too.


So maybe that was a bad analogy, especially now that I am here enjoying a lovely cup of espresso it seems like such an exaggeration. But often I feel like all I do is clean vomit, poopoo, peepee, dirt, dishes, cloths, noses and nurture til I bleed. And I only have one child! Good lord. But it's just because I am so isolated here in gay land. So I feel so guilty for feeling this way when I should just be so entirely grateful for all that I have. I am American. That alone means that I am privileged. And then we live in such a beautiful city with loads of culture, abundance of healthy food readily available, it's very safe, I can walk everywhere, and yet I often still struggle for happiness. Woe is me. I should stop complaining and start counting my blessings as there are so many. Is that it? Is it all about what you choose to focus on?

When I was a little girl (because that's what it always comes back to) and the clock struck 11:11 or I blew out birthday candles, or threw a dime into a fountain, there was one wish I wished over and over: to be happy. Yes, my step-father was an ass and my parents, who still hate each other today, divorced when I was four or something. So I know those two things had a profound impact on my ego, but I'm an adult now so I should be able to think how I want to, right? I wish I could do what my mom so lovingly told me and just, "Get over it." The problem is, I feel like I am flying solo so much of the time that any energy I have rushes out of the balloon that was not tied. And because I have to work a little at being happy, it is not always possible simply because the energy is being used to blow out a bunch of hot air. Bad analogy? Hey, I'm tired. Get over it. There must be a song about that somewhere. Get over it, I'm over it, yada yada yada. And actually, that is about the only thing that keeps me going. I need to drench myself in music. THAT is what is missing.

Ok, I can't sit at this cafe any longer. There's actually a beautiful blue sky and no rain, but it's something like 50 degrees F, so a bit chilly. The little heater seems to be heating only the air just above my head. Though on the brighter side, this is one thing I love about this land. They put heaters outside at the cafes so if you want to sit outside, you will not freeze your buns off. Though I wouldn't mind a bit of that really, as my buns could use a little shrinkage. And on that lovely note, a tout a l'heure...