Paris in Spring

 “A walk about Paris will provide lessons in history, beauty, and in the point of Life.”
                                                                                                  Thomas Jefferson

I suppose that there might be a better way to spend two days in early May than being all on your very own, walking the streets of Paris in the springtime.

But if I were to be honest, I highly doubt it.

I had dreamed of visiting Paris my whole life.  Not in the; I have many posters of the Eiffel Tower, Edith Piaff  and the Arc de Triomphe on my bedroom walls kind of a way, but rather, in the; Gosh that sounds rather lovely and I kinda wish I could do that kind of a way.

It all started when I was a girl of about ten.  That year, my English teacher, who I adored, because without exception I adored all of my English teachers,  gave us a cartoon picture of Snoopy lying on the top of his house looking up at an empty bubble call out.  Now if you don’t’ remember Snoopy, you are probably young.  And maybe silly.  You are not to blame.

Anyway, our task was to pretend that we were Snoopy and to fill in the blank space by writing where we thought we might like to go and what we might like to do when we got there.  I wrote that I would like to go to Paris to drink hot chocolate and to eat a baguette on the banks of the Seine.  It sounded so glamorous and different and impossible, and geographically correct.  (Also, my parents were very fond of ABBA.)

Paris lived up to all my expectations.  It is romantic, and beautiful, and alive.  The chocolate shops and the cheese shops and the bakeries and even the local corner shop are places of delight and comfort.  I starting missing the food stores of Paris the moment I left.  I will admit that I had to stifle a sob and the urge to cry out in horror when I returned to my local.

And just for the record, the French are lovely and generous.  I never met a single person who was rude or gruff with me or who didn’t switch to English the moment I stumbled over my Bonjours and s’il vous plaits. Thank you for being kind to me Paris.

I was never lonely in Paris.  I never longed for the company of anyone else for one reason only.  I was overwhelmed by the impact of the sheer delight which I experienced in being all on my own,  for the first time in eight years.  All. On. My. Own.

And unless you share your home with at least one child, you might never understand the deep soul healing significance of that statement.

How about we look at some pics?  We can weep together.

My heart literally skipped a beat at the first glimpse.
Selfie at the Louvre.  As you do.
The first thing I ate in Paris was a Nutella Crepe from a street vendor.  Oh man! Oh brother!
Starting the day with a  pain au chocolat makes a girl very very happy.
Dinner for one at a sidewalk brasserie.  That there waitor hit on  me.  So French.  So funny.
When in Paris, order the snails!  And you will get enough bread for a family of four.
Used the metro and did not get lost.  Not once.  Gives a moment for thunderous ovation. 
My favourite pic.  Found this garden restaurant in a small side street.  Wanted to curl up on that bench with a book.
 On my to do list was visit Hediard on Rue Madelaine.  I am so glad I did.
 Spring berries, at the time it was about R100 per punnet.
 Foie Gras and Duck Confit.  I wanted to move to Paris and live in this store.
Dear Husband, I wish I could have afforded the price tag on these wines for you.  Hope you like the pic!
 Flower gardens along the Champs de Elysses
 Lover’s Bridge, Paris
 Sigh. Weep.
Yes, I do miss Paris.

Because God is in the dream business; this dream, the one belonging to that small dreamy dreamer, came true after a heartbreaking season.  Perfectly, in fact exactly, when she needed it the most.

Blessed. Beyond Grateful.

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