Peace in Paris.

“A walk about Paris will provide lessons in history, beauty, and in the point of life.’
― Thomas Jefferson

I consider myself reasonably intelligent, but when my webpage decided that the gods would replace my instagram pictures with watered down images - I was flummoxed.

Completely fummucked. If you are like me, you begin with a little tear. Defeat comes quickly to me in some aspects, like understanding the Cloud, Meta, Dropbox and all similar characters in the play called ‘How to spoil her day.’

Then comes the resolve. I shall Google my way out of the dilemma. Google seems self explanatory, and no, not helpful. Neither was Youtube, and chatting to a bot on Squarespace even less so. I withered and looked the other way for weeks, telling myself I would start again tomorrow. Tomorrow can be an elusive fella.

Was it not for Ben, who lives in my establishment (of which I shall speak later) who clicked a single button and voilá-ed all my Instagram pictures back to their rightful thrones, I would still be unfinished. So, how many times have I started these pages, questioned why I do it and have regretted parts of it, but loved most of what has been written. I love to write. It is that simple.

Life changes so many times. Now you find me in a different life entirely, with decisions to be made, wonderful discoveries at hand, a huge dollop of humbleness and sadder, and wiser, and happier.

Luxembourg Gardens

Paris was perfect. She has her flaws, like me, but I feel my heart rise as I look with eyes of love at every aspect of her architecture, design, the Seine, the cafés - the menu boards that all reveal the exact same handwriting. Every fold, pathway, fountain of her. Art and Poulet avec frites. My adorable little ‘apartment’ lives on St. Louis (in my dreams) and my usual table in Saint Germain des Pres. I was in good company, we spoke and joked and laughed, stepping from the most delightful hotel each morning onto the recently washed streets to smells of coffee and pastries.

I go to Paris to remind me, just as Jefferson says, the point of it all. So life is good. My heart broke and my heart is stronger than I thought.

‘ … the French air clears up the brain and does good – a world of good.”
― Vincent Van Gogh

PS - and then the Eurostar launches a zillion tickets at old prices, and by the time I get to the website, no longer - Ugh!