New Plants

African Safari

I had a picnic with another lovely friend yesterday (Yeah I have friends. No big deal.)

Like most Paris parks, they are AMAZING.  I am used to parks being grass. And trees. 

 Parc des Buttes Chaumont surrounds a lake and in the center of a lake is big hill with a stone gazebo on the top.

View from the top

As we were leaving, we encountered a parade of sorts.  Loads of school children dressed up like African animals. No idea why...but it was adorable. The pics aren't the best but I only had my point and shoot, but you get the idea.

The Bee's Knees

A funny thing happened to me today.  Tonight I went to dinner with a lovely new friend, near St-Paul.  I had some sort of goats cheese on toast which was quite nice. Between dinner and dessert I went to the washroom. ( where the toilet had no seat....Paris bathrooms = not the best ever ) On my way back  this old man at his table says something to me, while looking at my feet. I of course have no idea what he said,I assumed he likes my shoes, though this seemed unlikely. I stumbled through my " No parlez Francais" and his companion (wife?) good naturedly says:

"He says he likes your knees."

"My knees?" I laughed.

"Yes, your knees"

I couldn't have been more surprised. I never really liked my knees. 

I remember when I was younger, maybe 15. At that age I hung around with boys. I never understood girls mostly. Guys were simple. They didn't talk much and when they did, they were direct. I suppose I liked the attention too. Girls were tricky and devious and would do mean things for no reason that I could see. If a guy was a jerk, even if I did not agree with it, at least I understood his motives. I spent a whole summer between Elementary and high school with those boys, who were a few years older than me and soon they didn't think about me as a girl. They accepted that I had no interest in them sexually and I became one of the guys. They spoke and treate me like one of them mostly. And I still recall one of them talking about girls, and their knees for some reason.

"...see you have almost too much knee, while so-and-so has no knees at all...." 

I looked down at my knees. That guy had no intention of hurting my feelings, he was just talking. I was 15 years old. Of course I was conscience of my body and my body compared to other girls. I accepted that I wasn't as skinny as most.I had never considered knees as something to be liked or disliked; good or bad.  They were just necessary. Fat knees? Geez.

So here was this old man, liking my knees. In fact I don't think he ever looked up to my face. Its so strange to be liked for a body part you had long since overlooked. 

So here they are,my awesome knees.

Thanks sweet little man.

                                            Perhaps you were drunk but you still made my day.

As I laughed at strangeness of the situation, this man staring at me knees....

He slowly reached his fingers toward one of my knees. To give me time to move away, or because he was too drunk to move fast, I'm not sure. I let him. I'm not sure why. I think I was too amused to be offended or creeped out. 

He then tickled my knee and laughed like a child. It was quite cute.

Alternate Grocery Walk

 

 

 

 

Grocery Walk

ooops this first one is on the way to the bus stop. oh well :)

 

 Here we go. Quaint little "allee" of homes and cats. And dogs.

 

Some streets are called Allee's...but what we think of as alley's....well this one is a Villa.

I am in no position to judge. Just wonder and wander.

 

 I could live here. No problem.

Staying warm.

 

 

 The sun came out one day. As anywhere, the cats came out to bask instead of scattering upon my arrival.

 

 

 An artist lives here. On warmer days she leaves a door open and I can see a hallway of stacked  paintings leaning against the wall....leading to an outdoor courtyard on the other side. Lovely. Course I love the turquoise.

This is my buddy. He used to bark at me. But then I scratched him behind the ears and now its all good.

 

Ha. I live in Paris. crazy. :)

We all want to be seated...

"We all want to be seated.  Some have also needs......"

Ok so the translation is not at its best, but you get the point. "Don't hog all the seats with your crap"

In Vancouver, this would have been a picture of a undesirable looking teenager with his feat up and his backpack beside him. He may even have (god forbid!) a skateboard. In Paris, its a sweet little happy man with all his new plants. How cute is that? I think I would just pick up one of his plants and sit beside him. He wouldn't mind.I can tell.

Less writing, more photos.

These were not taken in Paris, but in British Columbia. My girlfriend lives up here in this gorgeousness with her lovely babies (one photographed below)