Paris (Photo) Journal

So excited.  I just ordered this album  from Snapfish.  It tells the whole story of our trip in pictures.
Editing over 1,500 pictures down to 'just' 437 photos and 86 pages took a lot of hours.  Even though I had to delete pretty ruthlessly, those hours were pretty decadent.  I avoided accomplishing a few other tasks for a few days, because this project was so fun.
So many pictures were left out, but the remaining 86 pages capture a lot of timeless moments, trigger deep emotions, and fill my mind with happy memories.  The images on the pages still feel magical to me, making me jittery and happy every time I look at them (even on the screen).  The real, leather bound, actual paper...printed book version won't arrive for another ten days.

Stay tuned for Paris Journal: Day Five.  It won't be long.  Well...it probably will be long....a long post, that is.  That's just how I roll.  But, you shouldn't have to wait long to read it.

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Just checked my link....looks like you'll have to log-in to Snapfish to view the book.  Sorry about that.  

If you decide that you don't want to give them your email address and sign your life away to Snapfish forever, you'll just have to come visit me soon to see the real thing.   

Paris Journal: Day Three

This morning, I was anxious to get out of bed.  Tired, but eager to start the day.  Our plans included both the Musee D'Orsay and Versailles, both of which could take the better part of a day (or more).  I'd been planning my Paris wardrobe for weeks, so it was easy to get dressed...I was confident that we knew the city enough to get breakfast and take the metro.  I was up and ready to conquer the day.  Our two-day pass was ready to expire, and I had an agenda.  However, Ryan was (understandably) exhausted....and seemed (to me) to take forever to wake up and get ready.  I may have been a little panicky and nagged him just a bit.

Finally down the stairs and out into the street, we saved some euros (and time) buying our croissants and cafe cremes down in a little chain boulangerie in the metro station.  It seemed every bit as delicious and magical as the cafe variety....once we we arrived at our stop and walked through the Tuileries Garden to eat our breakfast.

We walked through the garden and over the bridge to the Musee D'Orsay.  Again, we were grateful for our Museum Pass which allowed us to skip a winding crowded line and go straight into the museum.  First, VanGogh, Seurat and the other neo-Impressionists...then off to the Impressionists.  These were the paintings I fell in love with as a child....poring over the little book of postcards of the Musee D'Orsay, given to me by my big brother Andrew and sister Lynn.   Some of the Renoirs....I had also seen as a teenager in a special exhibit in Chicago for a school trip.  To me they are almost sacred.

Degas sculptures and the paintings of Monet, Manet, Degas, Renoir...breathtaking.  And the view of the city, from the top floor of the museum...looking out through the giant glass clock window.
A. Maz. ing.

When I first saw Monet's "Poppy Field" painting,  I tried to explain to Ryan that it was the print..a framed painting that hung in my bedroom as a little girl and all the way through college...another beloved gift from Andy and Lynn's trip to France.  As I realized how much it all meant to me, that painting, Andy and Lynn's formative roles in my life, so many of my now fulfilled dreams, being in this city, in this museum, in this room, with this painting, with the man I love...who has given all this to me...I started to cry a little.  Teary eyes, filled to overflowing with joy and the knowledge of being loved.


We also saw an interesting Finnish exhibit with rugged landscapes that reminded us both of the cabin.

Leaving the museum, we descended straight to the metro station below the Musee D'Orsay....which conveniently led us to the train bound for Versailles.  My exhaustion hit hard on the way and I fell in and out of sleep on Ryan's shoulder.  We were part of a mob-like crowd pouring out of the metro station, descending upon the ville of Versailles. It was after 12:00, so the crowd was hungry (including us).  We laughed about the strategically placed McDonalds and Starbucks, which, at first glance, appeared to be the only options for food.  But as we walked up the shady rue toward the Chateau, we were delighted to discover a quaint street packed with little cafes and bars and markets.  After walking up and down, we settled on the Aquarium, which was lovely and delicious and simple.  Our "trois fromage" sandwiches were made on one very long baguette, sliced open and cut in two, spread with green-leaf lettuce and layered with camembert, brie and fresh mozzarella, drizzled with light olive oil.  A perfect lunch.

The wait at Versailles was disappointing, especially after our "royal treatment" at the other museums with our passes.  The line snaked up and down the giant outer courtyard.  It was sunny and a bit hot, and fortunately, the line moved along.

Inside, the palace was beyond all descriptive terms such as elaborate, decadent, overwhelming, opulent, beautiful, ridiculous.   Enormous....stretching on and on, long corridors, giant rooms, grand staircases, it's own cathedral.  All covered, every square inch, with exquisite materials, precious stone, masterpiece paintings or carvings, grand sculptures.  Amazing to see.  Probably the only place of its kind and degree of grandeur in the world.  But the shoulder to shoulder crowds, covering every square inch of space was exhausting, suffocating, and also ridiculous.

By the end of the great Hall of Mirrors, (which of course, was impressive), we were feeling quite trapped, and more than ready to escape to the gardens, calling peacefully to us from the windows.  Since our pass excluded the gardens, but included the Trianon Palaces and Marie Antoinette's Estate (my most desired destination in Versailles), we were forced to decide: pay for the gardens (9 euros each) AND the tram tickets (7 euros each) to get to Marie's estate in just 15 pain-free minutes...OR take the 45 minute walk around the Palace, through the town, and around to the back of the estate all the way to Marie's cottage.

We walked.  And walked.

Our sore, blistered feet and aching calves might have caused regret...but it was truly one of the most beautiful walks we've ever taken.  I kept telling Ryan how dreamlike it was, how much it meant to me, how delighted I was with every view...the long straight dirt road, lined with perfectly symmetrical trees, along both sides, the rich green of the grassy pastures on both sides of the road, sheep on one sided, horses on the other.  It was like walking into a film I've always loved.

Eventually, the stone fairy-tale-esque cottages with quirky turrets and towers appeared through the trees.  We wandered through the paths, snapping as many photos as possible.  Every moment, I felt the struggle to keep taking it in...to fight the anesthetizing effects of so. much. Beauty!!  As we walked back towards the Chateau, we found the Trianon palaces too AND...the tram back to Versailles.  For only 3.70 euros a piece, we got a full riding tour of those same gardens we'd skipped out on earlier, and...they dropped us off inside the gardens to wander as we pleased.  The bargain that we had just arranged felt delightfully "tricky" and smart and made the end of our Versailles day twice as fun.

Back in Paris, we crossed back over the bridge, through the Tuileries, and wandered to a French restaurant that looked pretty traditional.  A L'auberge.  The eager waiter convinced us by enthusiastically waving us in.  And the "Prix Fixe" menu looked about right for our budget.  I ordered escargot and Supremes de Volailes and Ryan had a tomato and mozzarella salade with Confits du Canard.  As is so often the case, Ryan got it right with the duck.  It was so tender and buttery/salty tasting.  My chicken was okay, a little dry, despite the delicious creamy sauce, I thought, but the snails were a delicious "first" for me.  The shells were filled with a pesto-like sauce and melted butter...and the snails themselves were delicious and tender and salty.  mmmm..

We hadn't talked to the girls yet all day (no wifi), so we headed to a cafe for some cafe creme (for me) and of course, a crepe for Ryan, and a tiny little cup of cafe (very bitter).  The waiter was the only one we experienced in all of France, the kind that everyone warns you about, the caricature of french "rudeness", who seemed annoyed with our American presence, expecting us to order more than just one dessert and cafe...and waiting impatiently on us, frustrated to be wasting his time on a table such as ours.  I tried hard not to feel the pressure, but it was hard for me to feel the disapproving Frenchman's smugness.  So, I ordered creme brulee too.  And it was delicious.  But he still didn't like me.

It started to rain.  It was warm under the heated canopy outside the cafe, but the wind and rain threatened to intensify.  The people passing on the sidewalks and on motorcycles were getting drenched.  So, we paid the grumpy waiter and huddled under our little umbrella, walking briskly back around the square to our hotel.

Paris Journal: Evening Two (Eiffel Tower)

Our first full day in Paris was like a dream.  We had crossed several things (major things) off of our list: the Louvre, the Tulleries Garden, La Musee de l'Orangerie, Berthillon glace, Shakespeare & Co., sun-filled walks over bridges and wanderings along the Seine.  One major list item remained.  And for Ryan, it was near the top of the list, the Eiffel Tower.

After a little rest and planning time at the hotel, we took the metro back to the Opera station.  We had only briefly glimpsed it as we entered the city on our first afternoon.  We figured we could get a better look at the Opera, and then wander our way towards the Eiffel Tower.   But before we could find the entrance to the Opera, I spotted something I knew Ryan would love...the Paris Mac store!  Since there was of course, free wifi there, we spent a long time inside, 'face-timing' with the girls.  On our way back down into the metro, we grabbed coffees (to go---the American sized version from Starbucks) and headed to the Eiffel Tower.
Author's side note: This is one of my only regrets of the trip.  Side-tracked by the Mac store and our hurry to see the tower that night, we never entered the Opera....as in "Phantom of..."  If I weren't so utterly full from beautiful once-in-a-lifetime adventures, I would have cried as we drove away from it on our last day.  

After walking for two or three blocks from the metro stop, 'it' emerged... finally.... from behind the buildings and trees.  We could not have asked for a more beautiful evening for this magical moment.  The air was just slightly crisp, but the sky was filled with warm colors, yellows and pinks..and just a little hazy.

As we walked closer, we tried again and again....at every angle to capture its magnificence.

There were play grounds and parks, gardens, and food stands along the way.  One little side-trip off the path led us to one of our favorite views of the night.   (Ryan's beautiful photography and editing)

We seriously considered going up.  But we knew in advance that one of the elevators was out of order...the line was hours long.  And one of us is not fond of heights at all.  We opted to take a River Cruise instead.  A different kind of city view.

The Eiffel tower sits on the edge of the river.  So we walked underneath the tower, toward the Seine.  We found a sunset cruise that included a light dinner and wine, a "snack cruise." So we bought our tickets and boarded the bateaux mouche.  Squeezed tightly among rows and rows of wooden folding chairs, we found two perfect seats on the upper deck.  Everyone there was happy, of course.  It was really like all the movie versions of a river cruise in Paris.  Kissing and smiling and laughing and contentedly breathing deeply...we glided through the water under exquisite bridges and watched the city slowly light up.

The tower was just beginning to light up when our boat returned.  We had just enough time to skip up the stairs to record the sparkling lights before they were gone.  Apparently, we aren't the only YouTube contributors to think that this event is pretty cool.  You can probably find better videos of this...but here is ours.  Including our delighted laughter.

While Ryan captured that on the ipad, I was capturing this with the camera.

It took us a little too long to find the nearest metro station that night.  Block after block of dark alleys made us both begin to feel a little uneasy in this strange city with its language and culture we did not understand.  But eventually we ducked down into the warmth and familiarity of the metro station and soon we were sitting and swaying on the train, people watching, on our way to our safe and cozy little room.

Paris Journal: Day Two

Despite my indescribable excitement upon waking (in Paris!?!?!), it was hard to get out of bed.  A wonderfully hot shower helped.  I put on a black lace dress with gray leggings, my gray cardigan, and my Grandma Linda's black and gray scarf.  The scarf-around-my-head... a little too "Parisienne"?  or perhaps even "Parisienne-wanna-be"?  Maybe.  But fun. 

We walked around Place de Republique to a cafe for le petit dejeuner of croissants et jus d'orange et cafe.  Pricey for a croissant, but worth the euros for the table, the view, the atmosphere, and the experience....and oh, the buttery flaky warm croissant...!

The metro took us to our first stop, the Louvre.  It was magnifique.  Overwhelming.  dizzying, breathtaking.  Every inch of visual space (for miles?) was a sensual overload of beauty and detail.  It was difficult to fight the numbing effect of so. much. beauty.  The courtyard itself was like a dream...hard to convince myself that I was actually there, standing beside the glass pyramid, surrounded by the Louvre.  Our 2-day pass allowed us to skip the long line at the entrance, so we dove right in.  Our first glimpse of the Louvre's exhibits was in the back, near the middle...a grand hall filled with creamy white sculptures, Hermaphrodite, Homer, and others.  We roamed through much of the Louvre, checking off our lists of 'must-sees' including Venus de Milo (Aphrodite ), Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss by Antonio Canova, Michelangelo's Captive (Dying Slave), Mona Lisa, Veronese's The Wedding Feast at Cana (which dwarfed the tiny 'La Jaconde' facing on the opposite wall).  We also found the 'other' symbol of the Louvre, "The Winged Victory of Samrothrace" overlooking a grand staircase in a magnificent marble hall swarming with people.

The apartments of Napoleon and the crown jewels seemed almost too much to absorb in the midst of our already-overloaded eyes.  Nearly every 20 steps or so, we gasped with some new discovery,...a vast courtyard (several stories tall, lit by sunlight) full of Greek or Roman sculptures, a grand room with masterpieces lining the walls (and ceilings!), marble staircases...   

Even though we were looking for it, we almost missed Vermeer's (tiny) Lacemaker.  But she was beautiful. Brilliant and quiet.   

When we had 'finished' our list, we headed toward the exit, accidentally discovering one more room, this one, filled with Renoirs, Degas, Monets, and Manets.  

The Jardin de Tuileries was perfectly sunny and delightful.  We sat in little green chairs overlooking the fountain.  A picnic lunch in the garden gave our legs and feet time to rest before we headed to Musee de l'Orangerie...

I was particularly excited about this museum.  Though it was much smaller (and far more intimate) than the grand Louvre, I knew it was filled with the art I really wanted to see.  The current special exhibit could not have been more perfect for our visit: Debussy, la musique et les arts.  Room after room of old photos, paintings, musical manuscripts, all related to Debussy and other composers demonstrating the relationships between the artists (and art) and the musicians (and music) of that era.

The permanent exhibits were also wonderful.  No photos were allowed inside this museum.  But this museum deserves a picture....for no description (or even a great photo, for that matter) could really convey the sensation of entering these rooms, (two of them!), pure white and oval shaped, diffused sunlight perfectly illuminating the surrounding walls covered with Monet's Waterlilies.  Ryan and I were both speachless, a little dizzy even, when we rounded the corner into this incredible space.  

Since I didn't have a photo, here is an image I found at time.com 

(article: 10 Things to do in Paris) 

After L'Orangerie, we crossed a bridge to the Musee d'Orsay, but found it was closed on Mondays.  Without a plan for the rest of the day, we roamed the streets.  We checked off another 'list' item, Berthillon glace (ice-cream) cones (vanille por moi, et tiramisu por Ryan) slowly eaten on a bridge over the Seine.  So delicously rich, creamy and flavorful.  I made that tiny cone last longer than any other ice-cream I've eaten in my entire life.  

As we wandered, we also found Shakespeare & Co. Bookstore!  

The inside was just covered with books, packed tightly, lining the walls...with rolling ladders...Low ceilings and tight walls created lots of cozy and quirky rooms.  You could feel the historic significance of the space, especially upstairs, rooms with old sunken velvet sitting chairs, an old Schindler piano, a tiny cove, a cubby with a curtain (only about 4 ft. tall... inside it had a miniature desk, a lamp, & a typrewriter...the perfect place to hide for a day). No pictures were allowed inside, so I tried to store the images in my mind forever.  

Here is an image (not mine) of the inside.  Having read A Moveable Feast just before the trip, my imagination was full... with thoughts of Hemingway, Joyce, Sylvia Beach, and Paris in the 1920's.  

Full.  We rode the metro back to our hotel to rest and make a plan for the evening.

Paris Journal: Day One

Here, I'll share excerpts from the meticulously detailed journal I kept of our trip to France.  Since the journal itself was a gift, I was extra motivated to record my thoughts.  And I'm so grateful.  The memories and the images of our beautiful adventures will remain with me for a very long time, but the details and the impressions are also forever mine to treasure in this book.  Most nights in Paris, I fell asleep, trying desperately to catch up in my journal...my memories of the day trailing off into a squiggly line on the page...turning into dreams.  But I always went back to catch up, because each day was overflowing with treasured moments and discoveries.  I just couldn't bear to lose any of them.

This was our first night in Paris.  We arrived in the late afternoon, checked into our hotel, and anxiously took our first metro trip into the heart of the city.

Once we arrived at "Chatalet" metro stop, we wandered towards the Seine...Notre Dame appeared before us with Palm Sunday crowds and tents for a special Baptism celebration.  We walked a bit, across the river and back, taking in the beauty and shock of it all...the markets, the flowers, the vendors, the language, the architecture, the shops, the bridges.  We came back over the river and walked down the right bank, toward the Louvre.  We were cold and hungry, exhausted and rather disoriented, but mesmerized by Paris and our first soiree in the city.  

A cafe with WIFI allowed us to finally have 'facetime' with the girls and Nana and Papa.  We sat at a little corner table by the window and watched the people pass along the Seine.  We had our very first Parisian crepes au nutella with cafe.  

On the way back to our metro stop, we walked along the river again, and I got to take "the picture I've always wanted" (it was the first of many) ~ Ryan and I on the bridge with the river and the Eiffel Tower far in the distance...evening light sparkling on the Seine.  

The picture isn't really that amazing.  We took a lot better ones later.  But this moment was so beautiful.  Beautiful partly because I was so dizzy with excitement (and lack of sleep).  I also remember feeling emotional, almost upset, feeling the pressure to make every moment 'perfect', and wondering why I was  feeling so sensitive... I was just. so. tired.  Undeniably happy and full of anticipation.  But very, very tired.

We slept soundly that night in our little double bed and awoke on Monday ready to conquer the Louvre.

April in Paris

I'll be posting pictures soon.  Real pictures.  My own pictures.

I actually thought I'd blog more about my upcoming trip as I waited for the time to pass.  All that time just seems to be disappearing.

Instead, this uncanny March weather has kept me too energized and productive and warm and spontaneous (and outside) to turn to blogging. 

However, I have been dreaming and planning...   

...and researching and reading and wardrobe planning and itinerary writing...  

And by this time next week, I'll be sleeping in Paris. 

Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons

Or...Chicken breasts with mushrooms.  a la Julia Child...sortof.   Made for my almost-birthday boy husband.  He loves mushrooms, so they were an important ingredient for tonight's pre-celebratory dinner.  His real birthday dinner will be Tuesday, and the primary ingredient then will be oreos (for dessert). That's just a given.  Not sure about the meal yet.

I don't think I will ever cook in Mrs. Child's fashion, at least not on any sort of regular basis.  There is something about her meticulous care and time and planning and obsession for finding precisely perfect ingredients and doing each process the very best way every time....that doesn't exactly come naturally for me in the kitchen.  And honestly, this doesn't really bother me (at least not very much).  I do enjoy cooking, and baking especially.  I'm not incredibly adventurous (and also not a detailed meal planner), but have become braver (and a better at planning/cooking) in my late twenties and ....now my ...thirties. (Wow, that sounds disturbing, my "thirties")  Maybe in another season of my life this way of life and cooking will become a priority and a habit.  But for now, it's just not.  

But tonight, I was inspired by her Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons (mostly because I had chicken breast and mushrooms and was dreaming about a certain creamy flavor).  So I made up my own improvised version of her carefully tested and retested-to-predictable-perfection recipe.  She would be horrified, I'm sure.  I know this because I just finished her 'memoir' My Life in France.  In fact, I feel like we're sort-of friends now.  She might not know me, but I certainly know her.  And I think we could tolerate one another.  We'd find a few things in common.  I like honesty.  And she's pretty direct and opinionated.  I like to listen and learn, and she would have great stories to tell and advice to give.  I did love her book.  I could probably read it again, just to learn and retain more of her vast knowledge of french cuisine.  And to imagine I am living in her parisian flat, speaking fluent french, and eating delicious food all the time.  I certainly am not interested in a life-swap.  I know I have it far better. 

And now....my 'lesser' (but still quite delicious) version of "Supremes"...

1 Chicken breast, cut into strips

some (1 tablespoon?) butter

a tiny bit of olive oil

juice from 1/2 lemon

salt and pepper 

dried basil, oregano, parsley, garlic powder

1 pour of chicken broth (1/2 cup?)

1 package sliced mushrooms (already sliced, I know, lazy, probably 'tasteless' in Julia's opinion, but easy)

2 handfulls fresh spinach leaves 

1/3 cup white wine (I used Reisling, but a dry white wine would probably be better)

1/4 cup cream

Coat the chicken breast in lemon juice, sprinkle with salt and pepper and italian seasonings, cut it into strips, then sautee the chicken strips in butter.  Then, add chicken broth, wine, and mushrooms and simmer for a bit. Next, add spinach, simmer a bit more...and just before serving, stir in the cream.  Serve over angel hair pasta.  

I loved the lemon-buttery flavor of the sauce.  I think I'm going to try a chicken and gnocchi soup with spinach and the same kind of base.

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And for dessert, puff-pastry brushed with egg and sugar, baked until puffy and golden and crumbling with flakes....with crushed strawberries drizzled on top.

[French for beginners] 145 minutes to learn French grammar

Il n'est pas tres amusante ou tres interessant, mais il est tres bon. Je comprends et je parle un peu le francais!

Books I'm reading these days.

Sometimes, I'm not great at concentrating on one thing at a time.  This can be a problem.
It can also make for a great reading list.

If only I could finish one....

For the new year.

I recently read (somewhere? on the internet) that (someone's?) research says.....

...that people who keep their mouth shut about any 'health/ fitness/weight loss/excercise/better food choices' new years resolutions are more successful than those who blab about them all the time.

I really know how to cite my sources on quality research, right? I honestly don't even remember where I saw it, and I don't think I read more than 2 sentences beyond the article title. But I did think about it a bit more.

And I guess it makes sense to me. When someone declines food without explanation, they are usually left alone. And they usually benefit from encouraging feelings of new empowerment by their own quiet strength. But if they follow up their "no, thank-you" with words like, "I shouldn't" or "I would, except that I'm trying to...." They will be bombarded with "well-meaning" pushy words of "encouragement" about "special rules for special occasions" and "rewarding" one's self...and they will eventually be derailed by 'friends.' I've been on both sides of this conversation, of course. So have you.

So, I won't say anything here about my resolutions for food or excercise or much else, for that matter. :)

But I do have hopes and new resolutions for the fresh year and clean slate of 2012. I love re-starts, re-organization, new disciplines, new hope, and new beginnings.

I'll simply give you one of my long forgotten goals that has resurged in the past week...

Je voudrais apprendre le francais. Non. Je suis determine apprendre parler le francais...cette annee.

So I've been visiting the BBC's Ma France(a free online french course) and pulling out my old 'Conversational French Class' textbook and flash cards. As with many things, I'm now a little obsessed with this new pursuit.

And I have my reasons. But I'm not telling.

someday...

...I will learn french.
Just before Maya was born, two years ago, Ryan and I took a conversational French class at the Community College. To say that I was an (obnoxiously) eager student would be a gross understatement. I wrote down everything the teacher said, asking for clarifications constantly. Each week, I had my homework done…and more. Just for fun (and extra study) I made laminated flash cards of all the french words and phrases in our textbook with pictures I had cut-out and collected from catalogs and magazines. Whenever we went to the gym, I’d bring one of my rings of cards and study my French while I worked out on the elliptical. Which brings me to another possible entry about something I want to do… exercise.
and my french? Je regrette….C’est pathetique.

See more progress on: learn french