It's been really cold this week and neither our heat nor the heat where I work is sufficient. I'm happy to wear layers inside, but this week I've been leaving my hat and scarf on inside, which, I think, is a bit much... Yesterday however the temp went up a little and my little charge and I had to go to Picard to get some frozen meatballs, which are, her favorite... On our way home we ran into the concierge at her apartment and this woman, whom I like, but generally shares her opinion more often then necessary. She is a typical concierge: she makes it her business to know everything about everyone who passes through her front door. For the most part, this keeps everyone safer and I can see no harm, however there are days... One day she brought the plombier up to inspect a leak, she followed him around while he worked, which in some ways, is fine, however she made it her concern that the dryer was hot and that whoever put the clothes in for an hour was crazy, totalement fou! and it needed to be turned off toute suite! See, in France, clothes get dried on low-heat and when they're almost dry, they're dry... It's great for the environment (although not as great as a clothes line would be) but it's obviously not American... (other things that are American but not European: anti-biotics).
Anyway, yesterday the concierge asked if my wee one was wearing collants (leggings) due to the cold (the same woman who was just sweeping the sidewalk without a coat). She was upset because A had on some flannel pants and they weren't (and I had to agree with her) seemingly very warm. But of course she wasn't wearing collants, and neither was I she complained, and I heard a three minute lecture about how Americans were crazy, JUST CRAZY... I left this tete a tete annoyed, but by the time we reached the 3rd floor I remembered that as a child I wore tights everyday during the winter, even my cousin Joey who was my daily companion and a dude wore his older sisters old tights under his pants... And my annoyance melted away at this memory, because we were awesome in our cable-knit balling and fuzzy tights.
Other news this week- I gave my months notice! Yay, for la fin de ce chapitre de ma vie!
1 comment:
I remember reading for years Travel and Leisure and there is a guy that wrote from Paris. For years, I read him and loved his life. Then in the last article he confessed that Paris is cloudy much of the year, that they turn on the heat on a certain day in the fall and turn it off some set day in the spring. I was shocked about the little details of this perfect life and how it was not that perfect.
There is no perfect place but we have to stop being blind about the other side of the fence.
Still I love Paris in September..
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