Well, I haven't written a single post since February seventh. Since that time, I spent ten days in Paris with Marsha and Jane. Before the trip, when I was working like crazy to be able to get away, I thought ten days would seem like an eternity. Little did I know it would fly - just fly - by, and now with each passing day, I hanker just a little bit more to go back to that beautiful gray lady of a city.
We stayed in an elegant apartment, with a lovely kitchen, on Rue du Cherche Midi, in the same block as Poilane so we had glorious toast every morning and wonderful bread to top with the amazing cheeses - all raw milk and unavailable here - that we ate every night while drinking copious amounts of Sancerre. We cooked our own dinner on four of the ten nights because we found good food to buy and cook in our neighborhood and got a rotisserie chicken from the Sunday outdoor organic market on Rue Raspail.
There's too much to tell - the wonderful museums; the young American who proposed to his girlfriend in front of a Monet and caught the rapt attention of everyone in the gallery and bowed when we all clapped after she said yes; the Berthillon ice cream I finally got my hands on; the tour Mike gave us of his fifteenth century restored home in the Marais, etc., etc., etc.
The other great thing that happened is that my friend Mandi, who lives in Melbourne, Australia, arrived on Easter Sunday for a ten-day "holimoon" in New York. A holimoon is a holiday you take with your 6-year-old daughter, Reagan, AND Scott, your husband of 23 days.
We waited and waited for that ten days and then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. They ice skated at Wollman, went to the American Girl Place, spent an evening at McSorley's hosted by Geoffrey, and went to the farm for the weekend where we had a great dinner at Margaret and Tom's on Saturday night and tobogganed down Walter's field on Sunday morning. When it was all over, Mandi left me enough licorice to last a normal person six months. (I won't tell you how long it lasted me.)
And now today, at long last, is ice cream day! The sky is (sigh) September eleventh blue, the temperature is in the high sixties, and everyone who is outside is strolling around with a smile on his or her face and an ice cream cone in his or her hand.
Welcome, spring. I hope you stick around a while.