Desolee

Can spring be far behind?

I ran a few errands this morning--I don't want to ever run out of coffee, filters, or that universal staple, papier toilette.  On the way back, I stopped at the fruitier for some clementines and I also bought a tomate noir (black tomato).  Then I made my normal stop at the tabac for the newspaper. When I talked with Marie about it, her first statement was, "It's not the season for black tomatoes."  How different is that mindset from ours in the US, where we think we should be able to eat anything we want regardless of the time of year?  (Or whether it tastes good or is even good for us?)  I felt a little embarrassed by my willingness to eat out of season to satisfy my curiosity. I explained to her that I have never seen a black tomato before.  She told me her father grows them in his garden, and they'll be ready in August.  This one came from Spain.

Then I made a stop at my butcher's, where I ran into my upstairs neighbor.  I don't know that Michel will get rich due to our business, but 34 Rue du Pont Vieux does shop there--a lot. For me it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he is about the cutest man on the planet!!!  They were very busy--I guess it pays to be the best at what one does, and Michel is the best.  I bought two very thin slices of country ham to try.  I talked with the butcher, after first apologizing (desolee)  for my bad French, about the tourists making him tired.  He protested valiantly.  The people here have never been short-tempered or impatient with me.  I marvel at their ability to deal with us. Then we negotiated the tricky waters of how many slices and how thick to cut them.  I would like the sunlight to shine through. He came through like a champ. 

Mostly I begin all my conversations with, "Desolee,"--  sorry-- and that seems to pave the way. People love to help, if they have the time. And here in the grand sud, there always seems to be time.  I don't know how it is in the summer. I have heard from many people that the Cite, at least is just awful.  

A Frenchman and his beret caught my eye

Believe it or not, I have my bedroom window cracked open a little.  I think spring might be on the way--the daffodils at the florist this morning were awfully tempting.