Climbing the Eiffel

Yesterday Zac told me that he didn't have school today. We immediately started talking about fun activities that we could do. Just last week he told me that he had never been up the Eiffel Tower. He has lived a mile away from it his entire life and has only stood next to it. I haven't been up in it either, so I figured it would be the perfect thing for us to do. The Starbucks on Rue Saint-Dominique just opened as well, so we thought it would be a great breakfast stop, since it's on way. So that's what we did! I will say that it was a little cold. I won't share too much about it, but just let you see it through pictures.

This is his "really excited" face.

Can you see his breath?



Can you see it now?


Starbucks!


So our hike began. Zac counted every last step that we climbed. That's right, no elevator, just our legs. We didn't go to the very top, just to the second level. The first level has a restaurant, snack bar, post office, and a few shops. When we reached the second level, Zac screamed out "Seis sont cinquante neuf!" Yes, there were 659 steps and he counted every last one of them.




No, this guy isn't real.







All of those little square thingies on the steel are the lights that make the tower sparkle at night!







Maybe the funniest picture I have of him! He was exhausted.

This was right after he walked into the pole and hit his head really hard. We were playing a game where he had his eyes closed and I had to guide him, in French, where he had to go. Well the boulangerie across the street had Christmas decorations up so I was a little distracted and didn't really let him know about the pole. His expression tells it all.

I really do have such a great time with this guy. I don't think a nanny and a kid could get along any better.

My Turkey Days: Part Deux

A few months ago, Eric sent a text out to close friends inviting them to a Thanksgiving dinner at his place the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I later asked him who all was coming and then realized that we were the only two Americans. Needless to say, it was up to just the two of us to plan for it. We met up a few times before the big day to plan out and delegate how the food would arrive and who would bring what.

Not to mention the many discussions of the correct way to say pecan pie - is it PEEEE-can pie or Peh-cawn pie?

After a few emails sent out by the host, Eric, it was all underway. I would take care of the mashed potatoes (because the French don't really do these correctly), Texas Gold Bars, and deviled eggs.

As the weekend inched along, Eric would update me to say "Oh we have another one coming" or "Two more people will be coming" and so on. The final number was 30. Hmmm. I've never made mashed potatoes for thirty.

The night before I made sure to make the amazing Texas Gold Bars, which can only be made with American ingredients, sadly. They came out superbly and I share with the family. They loved them. I packed the remaining bit for the Thanksgiving dinner.

Saturday I went to the store and grabbed two bags of potatoes, milk, and eggs. I made it over to Eric's and happened to see him walking outside with the florist that works downstairs from his flat. She was carrying a massive flower arrangement that is typically French.

Once I reached the top, I began the cooking routine. He cleaned and arranged the flat for a feast for thirty people. I had to peel alot of potatoes. Then I had to use three pots to boil the potatoes, in which one wouldn't boil.


Some girls began to show up and help out and get the flat ready. I thought boiling the potatoes was hard work, but I had forgotten the task of mashing them without a blending/mixer. Not easy. However, it all worked out. My right arm is now stronger than the left, but it's all good. In the midst of all of that, Eric and Gaby showed up with the three turkeys. The girls that were there helped with carving them. What a task!



After all the preparations, friends started showing up, one by one. We had enough wine and champagne for a village to feast on and more kept coming. Desserts were coming in as well. There was so much food. The excitement was building and finally we began to eat. I won't list off what we had, you can see the pictures. I had little labels to show what each item was, unless it was something like corn or turkey. Then we noticed that we didn't have any gravy. I went in the kitchen to whip some up. Some Frenchies asked "How will you turn it brown?" I said, "Well I won't. This is how we do it in the south. It's called 'country gravy'." There you have it.







It was a great time had by all. Everyone kept going on and on about how good all the food tasted. Everyone really chipped in and made it a memorable night.

Getting reacquainted with Paris

When going to bed last night, I started thinking about how amazing this city is and how lazy I've been. I haven't been seeing all that I can see. There are days that pass where I don't go see new places. There is so much to see and I don't have any
time to waste. The strike, my cold and cough, and being inside with a sick 7 year old had me in a slump. I decided to get myself out of the slump by walking the city.

It began after taking Zac to school in the morning. I received Marla's package last night. It couldn't have come at a better time! I listened to my iPod and walked back by the Eiffel Tower on my way home. I wanted to lay on the ground, but it was wet, so a bench was where I rested and listened to my new music. This music has a way of humbling me more than I have been in a really long time. It's such a mild difference of humbling me and encouraging me. I think I will remember this day for a long time.

I walked back home and changed into some gear that would allow me to walk for a long time; jeans, Diesel shoes, new winter coat, crimson scarf, iPod (fully charged), backpack purse, and camera. I set out at 10:00 am. I made plans to be back at 2:00 pm. I figured that four hours was plenty of time to be out in the muggy weather.

I had no plans on where I would go. I decided to get across the Seine and decide from there. I am always on the Left Bank, so I walked to the Right to discover a little more. Some of the pictures I can't even tell you where they are, but something in them made me happy to be in Paris. Each time I get out and walk and take pictures, I fall more and more in love with this place, my home. It's a place that somehow gets inside of you and plants itself. Most places are just locations. It's the people that make the place. It's like that everywhere. However Paris is a person. I can't describe it any other way. I think it causes you to become so introspective and reflective because of it's history. I've never felt so small and insignificant in a place. Paris is like the comfy chair where you go to read or think.

A view of Musee D'Orsay, which is a couple of blocks from my flat.
Looking towards Ile de la Cite which inhabits Notre Dame, Saint-Chappelle, Hotel Dieu, and Conciergerie.
For all of you that haven't seen the bus stops/signs.
A great view of Pont Neuf.
The metro map sign at Pont Neuf, ligne 7.
All around the city the Christmas decorations are going up. I cannot wait until they all light up. After about an hour of walking, the rain started coming down. I just put my scarf over my head and trudged on until I found a Starbucks. No eye rolls, please. I ordered a coffee and muffin, found a comfy chair, enjoyed the food and drink and read to my heart's delight. After about thirty minutes, I was back out in the cold. I discovered so many new streets and boutiques and landmarks. I didn't even have my map with me, but it didn't matter, I would find my way. Along the way I saw some of the most fantastic advertisements that overtook the display windows.

I found myself near Chatelet. It's the area that we hangout after church and some on the weekends. I decided to go to the mall and look around. I didn't spend too much time inside before heading back out. I found a little carousel outside. No children were around to ride it. I actually thought about my sister and niece. I knew that Paula would sit on the pig and Morgan would choose the pretty white horse, not the cow with udders.


Saint Eustache is just next to the mall Forum de Les Halles. There is a sculptured head called l'Ecoute (Listen) that I wanted to get pictures of, however, little kiddos were playing on it, but I got a picture anyway.


Next to the church was a restaurant, that is apparently very popular, called Au Pied de Cuchon. It pretty much translates to The Pig's Foot. The neighborhood is so quaint and Parisian. I can't get enough of places like this.

I had noticed it was getting a little late. I knew I wouldn't make my deadline, but I really didn't care. It was so nice to be able to walk wherever. I went into stores, food markets, clothing boutiques, all of the like. I took pictures, I listened to the sounds, and tried to take it all in. I found myself in a really great mood. I couldn't have been happier at that time. A bus could have driven over my foot and I wouldn't care.

I walked through Place de la Concorde on my way. It's one of my favorite places. I haven't taken many pictures of the Ferris Wheel and with the sky in the current state, I knew it would be the perfect time. The day was glorious. It wasn't busy out, but just calm. The sky was blue but considering a storm.





On Rue de Bourgogne, the street that is perpendicular to my street, there are some fanstastic little boutiques and doors. These are the colors that will forever make me think of Paris.

The strike was still going strong and I preferred to walk. I'm not fighting it anymore. I will make lemons out of lemonade. Wait, I mean that I will make lemonade out of lemons.

As time ticked away, I began my trek back home to drop off my camera, then to Zac's school. I must say that after six hours of walking, I was exhausted, but that really good kind of exhausted. This might become a regular thing for me. Give me a day off and I will be out in the city walking to my heart's delight.