We have an apple tree in our garden... and, as my favorite French Grammar teacher says, "Your tree has only one apple on it?" So today I picked one, washed it, and ate it. That may not have been the BEST idea, since theoretically they could be not apples at all. ((In France, I have learned, there are many fruits that LOOK like US fruits but in fact are completely different. Groseilles, for example, or melons... who knows what they are exactly?))
I have also FINALLY finalized my courses... French grammar, History of 20th century France, Techniques des Arts Plastiques (historiography of methods of making art), and Archeologie de Rome et l’Italie. The grammar class and history class count directly toward my major (French)... hopefully the other two will go toward my Art History minor.
Saturday morning I walked down to a market that Madame told me about in our arrondissement– it’s pretty close, on a pieton street, closed to cars. During weekdays, it’s all just shops and restaurants, but little cute shops: a fromagerie, librairie, papeterie, boucherie, patisseries, boulangeries, a supermarche, and then a few nice cafes also. But on weekend mornings, the whole street (which is probably only about 2 blocks long) turns into an open air market; the shops all stand open, the supermarket has a bin of ice with shrimp, lobsters, and oysters waiting to be bought, a portable fruit stand is wheeled in with fresh figs, melons, plums, corn, and confiture. This week men dressed as Musketeers lined the street, bowing to unsuspecting American mademoiselles and handing out pamphlets about a Musketeer play being put on for the next two weeks in the Parc de Ranelagh. The best thing about the marche was that it is all just populated with locals from the 16eme arrondissement, who come out for the Saturday morning market the way people in the States go out to buy, I don’t know, doughnuts on a Saturday morning. So there are couples everywhere, strolling arm in arm with their leashed, invariably small dog behaving like a perfect princess. The dogs are invited into the store without exception, which is hilarious... it's like being in PetsMart everywhere you go, except with nicer animals.
Yesterday we had breakfast-slash-brunch at the apartment of a woman we met at church on Friday– she is half-English, half-French, so we had "scones and jam" and coffee and chocolate. Amazing. Plus it was nice hanging out with someone (nearly) my age who IS French. She’s lived in Paris all her life and knows it backwards and forwards, which was awesome– after brunch we went for a walk and ended up on the bank of the Seine, sitting on a wall with our feet over the edge, being waved at by all the tourists in the Bateaux-Mouches, who are always told by the boat tour guide that "in good weather the banks of the Seine turn into a French beach, as Parisians come to sit in the sun by the water." Such a fun and chill Sunday, doing the typical Parisian thing... I love it. The weather lately is beautiful, it’s autumn I suppose and the leaves are changing... though not as prettily as in the States. They just kind of turn a rusty shade of brown and then fall off (they must all be the same kind of tree, because they are all the exact same color...)
Last night while recopying class notes from Franglais into French, I turned on the tiny TV in my room for the first time ever... and found nothing but an episode of CSI (translated as "Les Experts"), dubbed in French, which I watched, though it was about as annoying as Godzilla movies where the mouths are not in line with the words.
I have amazing pictures, but can't post them because the site is down. Soon, j'espere.
Faire le bise pour moi!
~Blair