Time Warp

I swear I am in a time warp. I don't seem to be able to leave the apartment until 10 am at the earliest and having dinner at 10 pm is not the least bit unusual. Of course it isn't here. Look, it's 9:39 and not nearly dark. My children are now in a perpetual state of exhaustion. Last night, we went to Night of the Museums, and visited the Grand Palais where giant bubble machines were hooked up, dispensing bubbles from above. It was all very sweet. There were about a dozen machines, and each one presented a different scent, not all of which I could identify. For crying out loud, I said that something presented. I am going to end up like David Sedaris, simply speaking poorly understood english with a accent. BTW a copy of that book is here in the apt. Clearly I should reread it, perhaps as more of a cautionary tale. Anyway you waited for a bubble to pop on your nose so you could try to guess what it was. Then, in an especially cruel twist, people would be murmuring around us the name of whatever it was, but of course in french - some vocabulary word we never got ot in Mrs. Scott's 12th grade class. "Ah - c'est [blah blah blah french words here]. So as not to embarrass oneself you would just say, "Oui! Oui!"

We walked out from Grand Palais to the Pont Alexander 3 where there is a lovely view of the Eiffel Tower. It really never fails to mesmerize, especially on the hour when the dazzling lights go off. Everyone seemed very happy, lots of picture posing, and then we continued to the Louvre, which was the 400-mile-Bataan-March should you ever mention this night to my children. I love the pyramid at night, and there were a blue million people there. We were home well after midnight with two very tired children. Oh, and I have to add that the Metro is different place at night. Totally packed with teens and clubbers, and on this night, more than a few middle agers with kids.

Earlier in the day we went to Buttes Chaumont again, with a picnic, but it was not as warm as the last visit. But I was better organized so we actually bought bread at the bakery before arriving in the neighborhood of no open bakeries.

OK, this is a good place to mention that of the many things that will make me (even more) intolerable when I return home, getting fresh bread every day, in fact sometimes twice a day. It means more in Paris than running water.

Today, again with the market. This time I felt triumphant - a no fear day. Melt in your mouth spinach, shrimp, and those amazing oranges with the gold and red centers...two blocks away. Plus I found a paella guy, so maybe we do that next Sunday for lunch. Also I found a bread with macadamia nuts, apricots, raisins and FIGS. In the afternoon the babysitter took the kids out to see Robin Hood - verdict: most excellent. I was given a detailed account tonight at dinner. I felt like I had seen the movie AND read the movie's book written by our talented friend David Coe: BUY IT HERE. Stephen and I slipped out for brunch, and I stopped in at the Aubade boutique... End of post...