Monday, October 03, 2005

It's a big week ahead. I have my first cooking class on Thursday! We're going to meet at the big outdoor market at the Bastille, on the right bank of the Seine. The menu isn't planned yet, so we'll see what La Chef has in mind on the day itself. I'll be chopping and dicing and doing dishes, and afterward, I'm invited to help with some socializing. I think La Chef likes me; she's started to call me "ma chere," which is quite an endearment.

In the meantime, the French national railroad is on strike tomorrow, which is, of course, the day we're supposed to head to Romans on the fast TGV to buy luxury shoes at the various discount shops in the town. We trekked over to the big Montparnasse railroad station this morning to see if we could find out if our train will be cancelled or not (two out of three trains will, in fact, be running; they just don't tell you which ones). The young blond man who helped us at the station was very handsome and bestowed his winning smile quite liberally. So, though the information he shared was mostly vague, we felt attended to. We'll see what happens tomorrow.

This afternoon, I'm dragging my father to the Luxembourg gardens to make a short film with my new digital camera. He doesn't like cities, he doesn't like crowds, and yet, he loves Paris and the crowds who gather every day at the park. He's been coming here for more than forty years, and when he dies, he says he expects us to scatter his ashes in the park. I want to get him to talk on film about his love for the park. We'll laugh as we watch it while he's alive, and we'll weep after his ashes have settled into the garden soil.


Felicity said...

Oh my Goth, I am crying reading your words. Crying for you in the future scattering your dad's ashes, and crying for your past with your mom's death...your writing is ohhhh so sweet, sad and evocative. Well I have to go get a tissue now, and then put Luci down for a nap.

She fell on Friday and broke her front tooth in half, she has been so brave and good. She says to tell you she has a new tooth, the dentist gave her a ballon poo-doo, and boobie butt.

Take care,


fresca said...

I definitely think we should wait till it is the HEIGHT of fig season before we scatter our father in the gardens... (Well, and also wait till he's dead, of course.) I don't want to go to Paris and eat figs PAST THEIR PRIME.
Love and smiles from Your sister.

Felicity said...

I can't believe you are leaving us hanging like this - it's now october 6, and your last post is Oct 3. Did you get the shoes or not?????

PaulD said...

PS: I'm sharing your site with several folks I know who would appreciate it -your writing- each for their own reasons.