In all fairness, I must tell you that all is not wine and cycling and long walks in the sunshine here. Gloom has prevailed the last couple of days, and more is predicted. Above, Pater holds an inadequate umbrella as he walks along a sad-looking Rue Ste Catherine. We stuff one pair of soaked shoes with scrunched up pages from yesterday's Le Monde, and hope it dries before the other pair gets soaked through. . . We saw a couple about our age the other day, huddled under their umbrellas, and noticed that he was wearing light, bright runners and she was wearing beach sandals. And we knew from the mismatch with the rest of their outfits that they each had a soaked-through pair of shoes back in their hotel rooms, and that they had not imagined so many days of rain. We nodded sagely at each other: They had mal packé!
But we survived a long and exhausting day Monday after suffering a breakdown of our brand new rented Peugot on a scarily fast Autoroute. Pater says that at least I will get a blogpost out of the incident, so I'll save that story. Right now, we are comforting ourselves with tea after giving in to some retail therapy this morning. A disheartening email extending the family disharmony added internal storms to the external ones. We are trying to take the high road by not responding, but the hurt is deep. Anger might be healthier, truly, but I don't want to go there. Instead, the retail therapy is soon to be augmented by some French cinema therapy.
Above is a photo of the 12-screen theatre. Inside is the usual range of candy and popcorn and fast food options associated with "the movies" but the building? "Quelle difference" . . .
Other little cheer-ups:
I bought a purse-sized tube of verveine-scented hand cream at Les Oliviers, my favourite hand cream, even above the l'Occitane I usually treat myself to at home . . . Luxe of the quotidian . . .
Lovely conversation with the friendly vendeuse who helped me find my size at Nice Things. My French does much better with talking style, franchement than it does talking politics. . . .
And you, writing to you about my adventures, that cheers me up as well. So tell me, what's up? What's lifting your spirits today? Or dragging them down, for that matter . . . Dîtes-moi. . ..