miss awesomeness

It had been my dream to have at least one large dog by my side in this next decade of my life. Two may be a challenge, but I felt up to even that. It looks like I may have to let go of that plan. I am on my second large rescue and for the second time, I'm dealing with behavioral stumbling blocks that are more than I can handle. It's true that with the first pup, the problems exploded and became insurmountable, while in the case of Sadey, I truly think they are surmountable, even though I am not the person who can easily surmount them. 

Sadey is in fact a wonderful dog. She came to me at a time when I was starting to lose Henry.  They got along beautifully at the end, but he was too far gone to save. She, on the other hand was not. Is not.

It may appear that I never bonded with Sadey in the way I did with Henry. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love this girl fiercely. She is the most huggable dog I've ever met. She begs for my attention, but in a non menacing way. If I'm busy, she'll wait for it. A model child! 

They weren't wrong over in Texas when they described her as "pure sweetness.". She is a total love bug. And her stranger anxiety isn't like Henry's. She doesn't attack. Or at least not in the way Henry did.

Why do I think she needs a different kind of home than what I can offer her? Because I am afraid of her going the way of Henry. This may be in my head, but it's there -- that fear that she will get more protective.  (She is quite the guard dog.) That I should keep her away from strangers. There are all these what-ifs that are pounding away at me. What if she barks at every person who comes here? What if the dog park experience (where she did bark persistently at a chosen few) grows beyond the fences of the park? I love that girl so much -- I could not go through another rerun of the Henry story. 

Sadey has a great chance and I have found a good option for her. Without Nervous Nellie (me!) holding her back, she'll likely thrive. But oh, I will miss that great big hulk of dog next to me on the couch!

So, no big dogs coming my way. Because honestly, I am at this point not capable of taking in another large rescue -- not one that could well develop protective responses that are so hard for me to work through. So, unfortunately, I'll have to scale down my expectations. No great big rescue mutt. And certainly not two great big rescue mutts. More like a predictable small sweet pup. For my great big dog cravings, I'll have to go over to Goose's home and snuggle with that hunk of a dog who actually likes most anyone who comes up to him for a hug.

 

We have another one of those weird warm days. I'm not protesting! At least not yet. Ask me again after the storms pass through!

Breakfast.

Play, rest, go to doggie day care. One more day of playtime for Sadey at Happy Dogz. I buy groceries, I go to Ed's...

(snowdrops!)

 

... and I come home. Sadey is leaving tomorrow, but I dont want to pack up her belongings when she is here. I want to get them in the car now, without her questioning gaze. Oh, that Sadey gaze! How can I not cry at losing this girl with the loving eyes? A dog with a thousand kisses?

p

I pick up the kids, one, the other, we come to Sally's house...

 

 

 

 

 

... and toward evening we drive over to get Miss Awesomeness. 

 

 

 

More tears, sure, but it's not as if she's heading to a bad outcome. It's us who have the bad outcome. I will miss that girl with all my heart. 

 

 

 

with so much love... 

 

adjusting

There is always a period of adjustment after I return from a trip. The time change of course, though I was so tired that I slept long and hard, so there wont be much jet lag this time around. The unpacking -- that too. It's weird to be unpacking for a three month stay -- that's how much time I have left at Sally's house. For example, do I find spots for items purchased (because this time, I did add two tiny pillows and two tiny dishes)? But I know they wont be of much use this spring. So it's a careless temporary placement of items that have meaning to me. Feels odd.

Too, it feels super strange to be in Sally's House without a dog. I moved here for Henry. And then Sadey. She is still at Camp K9 because I could not pick her up late yesterday. And we are in a period of dog transition. There's some movement this week (I think) as to who stays where and when. So I'm dogless for the day, but maybe not for long? I don't know yet. Feels odd.

Then, too, there's the weather. The always confusing, always unpredictable April weather, and it does feel like April here right now. Indeed, today it feels like June. Warm. Before the storms move in tomorrow. And the cold returns. I suppose that in itself isn't weird. It's just April.

Here's a nice thing: I did return to a super clean house. For the past 15 years, I have always felt compelled to wipe down a mess or two or three on the day of my return. And the next day it would continue: tidy up, inside and outside. No such tidying needed here! I left the house in a state of total neatness and thus is remained. 

I unpack, I sit down to breakfast. It's actually warm enough to eat outside on the Sally porch, but the view there is so ugly (garages and a mound of dirt on the lot next door) that I don't see the point. I stay inside. 

There's much to do of course. Boring stuff like laundry. Building a new dog crate. Working out a budget for the month. And here's a sweet errand -- a drive over to the farmette (all of two minutes away so why didn't I walk? I do not know...), to see if anything is blooming. And it is!

More errands: Send a package, take over some Snowdrop stuff that somehow made it to my suitcase. And pick up the kids.

But it isn't a normal pick up in that I cannot bring them to Sally's House. I leave them at home and go to Camp to pick up Sadey. 

By all accounts, she had a wonderful stay. Pictures show her playing with dogs outside and snuggling with caregivers inside. Her report card was full of praise. She is such a sweet pup when you give her that ounce of freedom, when you dont ask of her to keep her woofs to herself. Still working on figuring things out for her. For this pup with a heart exploding with affection for her people! Easy to befriend. Easy to love. 

 

From Camp, I have to take her to the vet (for a booster shot)...

 (who is driving this car anyway?!)

 

... and then, finally, we're back at Sally's house. A house that is empty without a dog in it. Tonight, Sadey rules here once again.

with so much love... 

going home

I call this a double whammy: not only do we have an early morning flight out of Paris, but, too, Daylight Savings Time starts today in Europe. Considering our bedtimes of late, I'd say we got very little sleep this last night in Paris. On the upside, leaving this early means that the traffic out of the city (on a Sunday no less) will be minimal. (The traffic at the airport, on the other hand is always hellacious, especially in the mornings.) And here's another upside -- the Baume now starts breakfast early enough for us to grab a couple of croissants (and me, a cup of coffee) before we leave.

 

 

 

Snowdrop feels a pang of sadness as the spring break, one that she has long awaited, draws to an end. She asks me which day was my favorite. Such a difficult question! I smile at her choices -- second on her list was the rainy day in Nice -- she thought is was so atmospheric, what with the drizzle, the umbrellas...And yesterday in Paris! The lunch, the museum... But at the top of her list is that first sunny Nice day where we fit in a climb, many many walks, the old town, ice cream, the beach. I suppose I did not really have a favorite. For me, it's a package of jewels, all shiny, all tucked into a bank of grand memories.

 

One last look out the window, onto our quiet street...

 

 

 

She walks down, I ride with the suitcases...

 

 

 

And we're off. In a cab, with tinted glass, so the views out onto Paris are just a little hazy, which seems right for a departure.

 

 

 

We are on a Delta flight to Detroit. Familiar stuff.  Crowded airport, but somehow we move rapidly through one line (detax), then the next (check in), then the next (passport control), then the next (security), then the next (bus to flight). Snowdrop tells me she is tired. Well yeah! 

 

The flight out is delayed, but it hardly matters. We have quite the layover in Detroit. And then to Madison, coming in just before 6. Her family greets her, Ed greets me. Hi gorgeous. You had a good time? I did. I really did!

with so much love... 

 

a Parisian Saturday

One last day in France. One last day in Paris. Yes, I am always so very happy to be going home. Retired people have that luxury of not having work start the next day. I like my doggie, child-filled, Ed hangin' in there world! And yet, there's always the feeling of wistfulness. A good French adventure, coming to an end. No matter how many pillows and pitchers and plates I bring home, they wont put Paris on my couch or table. Vows to read more French, to study in greater detail the art, the cuisine once I'm back -- they're like intentions you set in a yoga session. Goal posts to give continuity and meaning to your travels once you've returned, at the same time that you know much of it will float away into thin air as you busy yourself with being home.

Snowdrop and I were lucky. Our first day in Nice was drizzly, but thereafter, the sun came through for us every single day. Even in Paris, albeit with a few clouds and a chilly wind. Today, the rain predictions fizzled once again. A light sprinkle from a passing cloud. Nothing more.Clouds, yes, but with a burst of occasional sunshine, a breeze that properly belongs to March. Good walking weather.

And so we shall walk. After breakfast of course. (The girl polishes off 5 croissants in addition to her cereal. You'd think I'd been starving her!)

Afterwards --  a most disconcerting hour on the phone with Air France -- the vendor of our tickets for this trip. I called because last night I got locked out of my account. The agent said -- good thing you called, you seem to not be on the list of passengers for tomorrows flight (home).

Say what??

This has never happened to me before and they offered no good explanation for it, but for some reason we got cancelled out. They of course blamed Delta. In any case, they needed to rebook us, on a different flight no less. What was most disagreeable about the whole thing was the fact that it took forever to set the record straight. We did not leave le Baume until 11 a.m. and this set our day on a treadmill that I would have liked to have avoided.

I discussed walking options with Snowdrop. She wants to aim for the Eiffel Tower. It's a frequent goal for us in part because it is such a nice walk. You can take it all by the river, you can weave your way through the quiet neighborhoods, or you can do a combination of both. Or you can get all crazy about your schedule and rush from one end of the city to the next. Guess which path was ours today!

And yet, it is one lovely walk. 

 

 

 

The highs were obvious. We made it all the way to the Eiffel Tower, stopping along the way at this place and that. A splendid walk and of course, the views at the end were so ... unmistakably Parisian!

Here's the issue though: I purchased tickets to the Musee d'Orsay for 1 p.m. It's hard to guess two weeks in advance exactly when you're likely to be not too far from the museum on that day, but I had to decide, because a new exhibition had just gone up, and this one I knew about well in advance. So I chose 1p.m., figuring that we'd be done with whatever morning routine we had chosen that day and perhaps, too, it wouldn't be too crowded because all of France eats lunch between 1 and 2. 

All that was good reasoning, but the walk from the Eiffel Tower to the Orsay is not short. We had to gallop to make it in time for our booked slot. Too, it was to be the day of grumpy people. Grumpy French patron of the arts with his dumb pony tail (I'm being unkind, I take it back) telling us not to rush. He hadn't a reserved ticket, we, on the other hand ,had to fit into our slot. 

But here's a real high: the special exhibit at the Orsay on Renoir and love is exquisite! Absolutely fabulous! 

(is the dog Renoir's Toto or is it Millie?)

One of my favorites ever. It brought the joy in his art right to the forefront, and of course there was plenty of information about paintings that I'd studied before but knew little about except that they were very fine and lovely to look at.

(each person in the painting identified, explained...)

(Renoir's daughters: "the younger one is only a year older than me!")

Once we finished our walk through the Renoir halls, we decided to give at least a handful of minutes to the Impressionists on the 5th floor. It's just fun to be there, especially if you dont have an agenda.

 

I asked her about lunch then and she was hungry enough to vote for Cafe Varenne, where she knew there'd be fries at the very least. 

Cafe Varenne has never disappointed me. I go there every time I am in Paris and 99% of the time it is just perfect.

Today fit nicely into the 1%. Oh, the food was just fine. She loved her filet of sea bass and fries. My white asparagus was a bit mushy and the poached eggs were variously ready for consumption, but good enough. And still, for the first time in all the decades I've been going there, the waiter was one big grump. He didn't like that we switched tables (with permission). He didn't like that I preferred an appetizer serving of the asparagus (I reluctantly switched to the bigger portion). He didn't like that we were in the path of "delivery" when we waited to have the passage way to the toilettes unblocked (we left). In all, he was disagreeable possibly because he was who he was -- a person who felt tired after an exceptionally busy lunch period. 

It would be ridiculous to give up on the Varenne after one bad waiter day. Totally ridiculous. And yet, I felt that I had maxed out my repeat visits here. It's not close to where I stay. Even though I am such a regular, I'm not in their eyes a regular. It's always crowded at lunchtime. It's too big a meal and too expensive to fit into the lunch budget. The pleasure has always been in watching the place hum so perfectly. Without the that special hum, it's just another good cafe/restaurant in Paris. 

From there, we went to the food halls once again. Just for the fruit. And then finally to our hotel room. But not for long! Snowdrop really really really wanted to go to the Luxembourg Gardens playground. It closes in late afternoon so I barely got a chance to throw down packages and we were out again. 

I'll admit that being in the Gardens on a Saturday afternoon in good (enough) weather is pleasant. We strolled to the climbing structures, she tried them out once again, commenting that soon her age will preclude her from using them (it's for kids up to 12, though violators abound). It hit me then that she is that old already. Wow. Considering that her cousin turns 8 today (Happiest Birthday, Primrose!!!), I have kids all around me that are really growing fast.

Our last dinner? Her choice. She wanted Les Editeurs, she got Les Editeurs. We've eaten so well that had she chosen a dessert crepe for dinner I would have gone along. 

(Les Editeurs: packed, inside and out...)

And home, to our room on the fourth floor this time. Repacking everything is one big chore, but I do it always with an eye to where we will next have these suitcases -- back in Madison, where maybe, just maybe the first daffodils will be opening up.

with so much love... 

a Parisian Friday

We have two full days in Paris. It seemed fine when I booked our trip, it seems a little short now. I feel that the perfect stay would have a day without an agenda, where you follow your nose and your heart and see what comes of it. Though perhaps with Snowdrop, I am more likely to have at least one place in mind for every single day -- a museum or a neighborhood or a park, depending on the weather. 

I had asked her early on if there's a place she'd like to go back to and she voted for the Orangerie with the Monet lilies. Wonderful. We'll aim for that right after breakfast.

 

Breakfast at the Baume. It's not a buffet so it requires a commitment in advance. It takes her a day of hits and misses before she settles on a combination that works for her. On this trip, it's cocoa puffs and croissants and a bit of orange juice. You could argue that I should push for something more nutritious. I would answer  -- hey, she's eating breakfast. I've seen her have days where she'd just as soon skip the whole thing. But at the Baume, you can count on her downing three croissants without a hesitation.

We set out on our walk to the Orangerie. Brisk, because it is a chilly morning. I almost wish we had gone one level up in terms of jacket warmth. A high of 53F/11C today. Slightly cooler tomorrow. But rain-free!

(what's blooming at the Tuileries)

 

 

The lines are surprisingly long, though we have timed tickets, so we can budge the big line. I hadn't realized that a new exhibition went up just two days ago (that's how out of it I was this winter -- I missed the Matisse and I missed this one too). The focus here is on the paintings of Henri Rousseau -- another post-Impressionist! I'm not especially smitten with his art, but it is so incredibly recognizable that I think it's worth taking in with Snowdrop. But first, her favorite -- the Monet lilies.

So beautiful, no matter how many times you see them. 

And the Rousseau exhibit? Very interesting!

(a young artist, with her own impression)

 

 

I think for Snowdrop as well. 

I'd say it was a worthwhile coincidence.

 

When we come out of the Orangerie, the girl wants to head straight for the merry-go-round.

 

 

 

 (same ticket guy, making same cotton candy)

 

 

 

 

 

We're right next to the Tuilerie playground. Not too old! (With ample comments about "pushy boys!") 

 

 

 

And I see that we are not too far from Smith & Son (the bookstore). Perhaps she'd like a new book? 

You have to stick to your guns with her -- Snowdrop always asks for many books, not all of them ones you'd like her to be reading. She tells me that in fifth grade, teachers aren't fussy -- they applaud you if you like to read any books. And really, I can hardly blame her for liking all those graphic novels that she has accumulated. I loved books that were of questionable value when I was her age. Her vocabulary is beyond the beyond, so why fret about the fact that all the conversations come in bubble format?

And now we have one of our typical walks that take us from one place to the next:

Across the Seine again... 

 

 

 

... along the Boulevard St Germain, up rue du Bac. Past coffee shops with dogs...

 

 

 

Past the Cafe Varenne (we're not hungry yet, unfortunately), into the sweet shop (she wants nougats), up to La Grande Epicerie -- the food hall that looks fabulously tempting, especially before a major holiday (Easter). We're not here for the sweet stuff. I need some good fruit for her, and other small things from my shopping list.

She's getting tired now and so am I! When are we ever going to sit down? 

 

 

Not yet. Another quick stop at Petit Bateau, another pause at a jewelry store that always speaks to me when I am here (the goal is just to look!). 

She is hungry and wants lunch. Considering yesterday's miserable excuse for a midday meal, I cant blame her for wanting to go to Les Editeurs -- a place where she loves many foods, not the least of which are the fries.

(waiting, reading)

Just one more stop, I tell her. For coffee at the small cafe that opened up a couple of years ago on the same square as Les Editeurs.

And home. Despite the coffee, I am sleepy as can be.  It's the weather! And the exercise! And the feeling of total relaxation. 

Dinner? I take Snowdrop to the nearby Marcello. I had liked it back in January and I thought after all that fish, she'd be ready for Italian. And she is. Amazing how such a small menu can hit all the right spots for her. Mixed fried seafood to start with, linguini with clams for her main course. She eats the clams ravenously and when the waiter grates lots of cheese for her on the remaining pasta, she is in seventh heaven. 

 

 

And here's a surprise -- just around the corner, we'd found an Amorino ice cream shop. Just a hop's throw from our hotel. 

 

 

 

 

 

It's always impressive to me how many people are out enjoying this spring evening. It's a cool evening and yet, the place is full of people, enjoying the outdoors as if it were July (except that in July, they'd likely not be here, but on their annual grandes vacances. Enjoying themselves then too. I live now in a new-ish housing development back home. Dozens, no, hundreds of homes, apartments, townhouse, and we are lucky to have that one cafe nearby -- Tati's. Last time I went there around lunch time it was empty. And much to the chagrin of my kids, it closes at 3, so they can never visit it after school for a treat, for ice cream. What happened to our communities anyway? Or were we always like this?

 

 

Tomorrow's our last day here. It always feels so odd to think that a few days back we were still in Madison, waiting to take off. And now here we are, dazzled by days of sunshine in Nice, saturated with the joy and sweet comfort of being in our special corner of Paris. 

with so much love...