And other cheesy blog post titles.
Summer arrived with all guns blazing in Paris in early April. Now she seems to be hiding. I managed to get a little bit of tanning time (in the Parc Monceau – oh how I love you), and plenty of iced coffee and reading in the sunshine time. Now I’m just waiting for her to come back.
My favourite summer spot so far, aside from the aforementioned Parc Monceau, is the Canal St-Martin. Sitting on the edge, dangling my legs over the water, with an excellent coffee (my favourite in that area, of course, is Ten Belles) and a book is perfect.
This is my happy place. And those are my happy trousers. They look like pyjamas.
This is another of my new favourite places, the Jardin du Palais Royal. It’s hidden away in the very centre of Paris, and always has a couple of lovely garden seats available. You know the ones, people fight over them in the summer in the Tuileries, and the Jardin du Luxembourg. You can always get a seat behind the Palais Royal.
The Tuileries look beautiful at this time of year. Even if you can’t get a seat. It’s a popular spot for a reason. Go for a quick walk, then settle with your book elsewhere, away from the crowds.
And we come full circle (triangle?) back to the Canal St-Martin. It’s great, if you can fight your way to a spot to sit in. If the sun around midday gets too hot (wishful thinking?) go sit inside at ten belles. They sell great soup. I had a really good non-Cornish pasty once, as well. The other, very popular alternative, is to order Pink Flamingo pizza, and have them deliver it to you at your perfect picnic spot. Yeah.
Hurry back, sunshine.
When I was young (cough 16 cough) my imaginary baby name short list contained, among other questionables, Hieronymus Euripedes. I named all of my instruments (nerd alert), but it was too soon after everyone I'd mentioned it to had told me that it was a mild form of child abuse to throw away my dear baby names on mere instruments. Enter the age of the iDevice, and I have a number of wonderful inanimate objects to give the names of my childhood dream children. Ideal.
Hieronymus Euripedes is a much better teller of stories than I am, even if I play with his narrative too much with Instagram filters.
Here are some of his recent shorts.
Box of bunnies, anyone? I was tempted.
It snowed, and Montmartre wore it well.
And then it was beautifully sunny and Notre Dame was fit.
I bought myself flowers, and was taught a little bit about flower arranging. Picking flowers to go together is really hard. And I'm really bad at it.
And then I ate the best burger of my life. So far. More on that later.
In other news, I've been watching and rewatching Buffy season 2, and, spoiler alert, the death of Jenny Calendar is always a heartbreaker. I can't even talk about Becoming, parts 1 and 2, because they are tearjerkers like nothing else.
I just sat down to start typing and my lamp has gone out. My overhead lightbulb has been out for 2 weeks or so. I have the light from the hall, an amber scented candle, and laptop glare. I should have fixed the overhead light earlier. Oops.
this is a gratuitous tourist shot.
This week has been excellent. Children are all at school full time, so a routine is sorting itself out. I’ve been making a lot of mixtapes, and eating some great food. I got locked out in the rain, without a coat, and managed to make the afternoon into something other than a soggy disaster. I finished watching Angel, and cried a huge amount. I accidentally baked cupcakes under the grill instead of with the oven on, and so they had crispy tops. I realised after about 4 minutes, so they were edible, but they didn’t taste like cupcakes.