I don't have anything pithy to write about the new year. "Hey, it's 2007, ya'll! Golly day. It's going to take me 3 months to get the date right on my checks." That's about as pithy as it gets over here today.
So, for lack of pith, I thought we might take a stroll down the romantic lane of my memory and go to France. In 2001, Steve and I took our two little ones for a 5 month work assignment and lived in the heart of chic fashion and haute cuisine- Paris.
My French experience is a fond memory, but it is not the memory of a 2-week-tourist-with-a-guidebook. Doing France with young children means most of the typical tourist haunts of quaint Parisian cafe's are OUT, and mapping the city according to park and playground locations, is IN. Surprisingly, Paris has more parks and playgrounds than you can shake a baguette at. Betcha didn't know that, did you?
Here is a brief, and I mean brief, tour of our stomping ground in the City of Lights.
The corner of our street, Rue du Ranelagh.
Another house on our street. C'est magnifique!
Steve and the girls outside the Louvre. Plan about 3 full days to walk through their collections. And that's if you walk FAST! (Sorry, no DaVinci codes to be found.)
This is one of those amazing parks. Pay a few francs and ride your horse on a lovely, meandering "trail" through the pastoral landscape of the Bois de Bologne. Each horse is complete with whinnies and trot-to-gallop motion. Beats a carousel anyday!
(You can't see much other than that Paris is HUGE)
... you spend a lot of time doing this.
On a very, very sad note, I made a point to journal about all of our visits and escapades, and to E-mail those stories to my friends in the States. This was before blogging exsisted, mind you. My fool proof plan was that all my tales would be documented in my "sent" box and preserved for posterity.
Sacre bleu! Something went awry and all my excellent stories got flushed down the cybertoilet. (I almost made Steve stay in France over that one. I mean, if you marry a computer nerd, he's supposed to rise to the occasion when your French computer freezes up... right?!) Well, those beautifully crafted missives are gone. If any of you have been reading my E-mails, and for some unfathomable reason SAVING them, for 6 years, I'd sure like a copy of those stories I relayed.
They were so pithy too! It's enough to make you cry in your croissant.