Paris

Does one need to say out loud that a weekend is Paris is wonderful? I got to cap off Mom and Tracy's visit with a weekend in Paris while Andy kept the kids. Win/Win. He was exhausted from working in Wiesbaden during the week and then touring during the weekends. The kids got a weekend with the Dancing Cupcake (daddy time = more junk food and movies than mommy allows). I got to return to a city that I hadn't been to for 22 years... since the last time Mom and I were in Paris together.

After a weekend strolling around, I could kind of see why France surrenders to save Paris. The towering chestnut trees were in bloom. The buildings are wonderful. Even the oldest architecture is sophisticated. I puzzled as to why. I think it is because for so long we have defined sophisticated by Paris, just as we define neutral pH by water.

Highlights:

--We hosted an exchange student, Nathalie, for two summers while I was in high school. Our families have stayed in touch through the years. She joined us Saturday. We got on one of those double-decker tour buses that you can jump on an off of, sat together and caught up on 20 years of two careers, six kids, two marriages and one divorce, families, hobbies. As we would pass some important building, she would switch into tour guide mode and switch into French to explain the building and it's history. It was beautiful to hear her voice and see her laugh as Paris went by.

--A last few days with Mom and Tracy without the kids. It's wonderful to get to see your family. It's even more wonderful to see your family and the Eiffel Tower.

--Another Hans Schaeffer compliment (this is a long digression so skip it if you want). As I mentioned, Nathalie was an exchange student with us. Her family came to pick her up and meet us at the end of her first summer. At a restaurant for breakfast, Mr. Schaeffer had his standard French bread and coffee for breakfast. I, an emaciated, teenage lifeguard, ordered one of everything on the menu. He took my wrist in his fingers and proudly announced to the table, "C'est magnifique. She eats like a man yet remains like a dog!" Nathalie was appalled and a torrent of French followed. He sheepishly explained that he had seen a dog on the side of a bus, but didn't know the word for racing dog or greyhound. I still count is as one of the finest compliments ever to come my way. This time, he told me I was doing a wonderful job at "resisting the inevitable" (aging process) and" Vive la resistance!"

--The ride home. Great trains, good food, rocketing, albeit backwards, through the French countryside. Listening to Ten Shekel Shirt on a Sunday morning. Brie for the soul.