Thursday, September 12, 2019

Pied de Terre

This is the side wall of the local barbershop.  Here is the other.

Mr. Rogers went to Country Club College.  I don't know what Bob the Painter has to do with the area.  Maybe he is from here, but I don't know.

I took these with my rangefinder 6x6 camera on my walk around.  Nothing came out of it.  Still, I paid to have the film processed, so I'm going to use them.

I got a new place to stay in Paris.  I'm renting a pied de terre on the Ile de la Cite.  Pretty cool, I hope.  I will live like a local, wear my trousers rolled in a French cuff, don a striped fisherman's jersey, be shod in espadrilles, and sport a beret.  I want to be inconspicuous and blend in.

Yea, I know, everyone everywhere wears the same thing now.  I hate it.  I want the world out there to stay picturesque for me.

I am off today and wasting the day.  I am not proud of the fact, but I don't imagine I'll fix the situation this afternoon.  Ili is out of town for a couple of days working, so I am left to my own resources.

Yesterday was 9-11.  I don't need a parent permission slip for people born after that event now.  I will frolic with those who have never known a world without metal detectors and deep-seated paranoia.

Paris is more dangerous than the last time I was there, they say.  Beware and stay on guard.  Before the accident, I never worried.  Let's see how I handle the young ruffians now.

1 comment:

  1. You should have seen the 3 apartments I rented on the Ile St. Louis. Oh my.

    Oh. I want to go! My friend comes to the Cape and she offers the apartment all the time...... She says the city is empty in August. I think that would be just fine.

    Hannah stayed with her when she was traveling the Continent.

    I've only had cocktails there and dinner at the Le Dome with them.

    Man, C.S. reading these feels strange. Familiar and yet -- strange somehow.