It's our first week back in Paris after three fun- and
food-filled ones in the States. We're shaking off jet lag (some friends recommended 5-Hour Energy; it's OK, but it's far from a miracle cure), getting back into our work routines and weekly rhythms and coping with occasional bouts of sadness as we come down from the high of the holidays and seeing so many dear friends and family. We're also running errands. Last night I had to go renew some books at the American Library that went overdue while we were away. Mine was a mixed bag, to say the least:
Travels in Siberia for me, an excellent book that's further feeding my fascination with Russia in advance of our visit in April (alas, we'll go to Moscow and St. Petersburg, but not Siberia); and two Dr. Seuss books for Ashley for use in her tutoring work. As I was crossing a street near the library I caught this glimpse --
-- of la tour Eiffel, sparkling like champagne. In the immortal words of Ron Burgundy, drink it in; it always goes down smooth. It was a nice welcome back.
A short while later, as I was punching in the door code to our apartment, I noticed this flyer for an American Western-themed extravaganza in a nearby park on Sunday:
We already have plans for that afternoon -- a
Bulgari exhibition at the Grand Palais, if you must know -- but perhaps we'll swing by afterward. A "Western Day," replete with a mechanical bull, lasso demonstration and pony baptisms (?), might help ease our transition from America back to France. From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a short Metro ride.
-- MBB
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