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)

Merry Material Girl

 Those who know me well, or have at least been to my home, know I like things. I love stuff.

 And I have alot of it. Between moving into my (now) husband's small apartment and preparing to move to Paris, 95% of my precious stuff and things have been in storage for more than a year. It has been a kind of torture for me. Laugh away, I do. I've always liked that idea of throwing everything you own off a cliff and living anew. But that will never be me. And I am totally fine with that.

Below:

Things: my broken-necked Bunny I've had since 4th grade (one day I will sew his neck up, honest), glasses I wear for fun at home, framed illustration of birds and flowers I got from Value Village for $8, old photo booth pics of me and my mom when I was little, and earplugs. (Can't sleep without em)

Vintage patterns. I don't even remember where I got them from. This is one of about 10.

 

Awesome metal strainer with feet. Love it. Forgot I bought it.

The isolation I feel for being in a place where I cannot understand most of what is going on, or read signs......where going to the grocery store has been known to fill me with anxiety...that feeling has been pushed away with the arrival of all my lovely things. (Except those couple of plates that got packed dirty. Ew.) ("Got" packed.....ha. It was me. I did it.) It shows me of those I have lost and those I miss but it also reminds me of all that I can create and that I will create more. That even though I am lost now, I will find my place here. Just like all my stuff and things have.

Tetris

All in one day! Internet connection and all my belongings from Canada! Life has gone from a struggle to keep myself entertained to...holy crap! What can I get done today and what can I put off until tomorrow?  So many boxes fill our apartment its a blessing we don't have a couch. Basically it's a shuffle job. I feel like I'm losing at Tetris all over again

Here is a  pic that I took after a few boxes ...

And here's one after all had arrived. Keep in mind that I used a wide angle lens for these shots....

We are living in one third of our living room..and a path to the kitchen that morphs everyday as I play the shuffle game.

As much of a chore it is, some of this stuff I haven't seen in years. 

It's a kind of cluttered, overwhelming, newsprint smeared Christmas in March.