When summer heat bears down, I look for escape in different ways. Sometimes old movies, a book, or a quick trip down memory lane does the trick (since I'm obviously not leaving home these days). A chance remark on television yesterday took me back to Paris. It's hard for me now to believe that is 30 years ago since I was there. One picks up the darnedest souvenirs, and this pack of cigarettes is one of the first and most Parisian things I brought back. Probably every story I'd read involving the French had mentioned Gauloises dangling from some dude's lips. Those were the days when I was smoking unfiltered Lucky Strikes, but I have to say that Gauloises were the strongest, harshest cigarettes I'd ever tasted, hence the nearly full pack still intact.
Regardless, in my mind I revisited Paris in the spring, remembering the food I ate, the trip on the Seine, losing my traveling companion at Notre Dame and nearly losing my mind hunting for her, the palace at Versailles, the Champs Elysees at night (called the street of diamonds and rubies because of the strings of car head- and taillights), and so much, much more.
Back home again, I took down laundry from the line (dry in minutes), refilled the hummers' feeders, watered wilting plants, stepped over dog and cats stretched out where they might catch a breeze, and wiped perspiration from my brow. It had been nice to take a small vacation for a little while. It was a good day.
1 comment:
But..."How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm...after they've seen Paree?"
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