Friday, January 9, 2015

Third -- and I Hope Final -- Day

The full post -- days 1, 2, and 3 of this whole awful episode in Paris is at A Year in Fromage. But in case you've already read it, here's just the update from today:



DAY 3: Out with Gigi at the Bastille, and we see a convoy of 16 police vehicles racing by with sirens blaring. In fact, the city has an almost constant hum of sirens.


 
The hostages have been taken, and now the texts I'm getting from Anthony are about how his building is in lock-down mode. This BBC map, modified by somebody Anthony works with, will show you why:


Our kids still have school today, but with full security measures in place. Even at the middle school dismissal, they are now asking each individual child where they live and judging if the route home will be safe. After all, at the time of dismissal, there are still hostages being held, and all of the gunmen are at large. I've never seen so many parents at pick-up.


The streets are just covered with machine-gun-toting, bulletproof-vest-wearing police and military. There's even the Protection Civile, which I understand to be akin to the National Guard. I've never even see these blue and orange uniforms or trucks before.

 
 

And everywhere, everywhere, the signs of solidarity.


Now it's dark -- Friday night at 11pm as I'm writing this. The weather is nice -- mild and dry. But I have never, ever heard the streets so quiet, especially not on a Friday night. All the neighborhood cafés are closed. In fact, it is so unbelievably still that I actually research to see if the city has instituted a curfew (appropriately called a "couvre-feu" or "fire-cover"). The gunmen have been killed; the remaining hostages -- those that weren't murdered -- have been freed. No curfew, but I think everybody is just hunkered down at home, breathing easier but still happy to be inside.

And I hope -- I hope! -- that this is the end of the updates for this post.

Thursday, January 8, 2015

Yes, We're OK

You may have heard the news -- a terrorist shooting in the Marais at the offices of a satire magazine, Charlie Hebdo. While it's true we live in the Marais, we were nowhere near the scene of the crime, so don't worry about us. But not everybody was so lucky. Anthony's boss lives right in that area, and his daughter's school is just buildings away, so he rushed home to be with his family.

 
You may already have read the full posting (and if  not, please visit A Year in Fromage).
 
As for today, here are a few small updates, beyond the signs we see in the windows:
 
 
The city is quieter than usual. And feels a bit weird. The rainy gray morning didn't help matters, but now it's sunny and blue and looks a little cheerier. Still, it's not its normal self.
 
Letters from both of the girls' schools: various security measures put in place. A moment of silence at noon, at which time the Bells of Notre Dame -- and churches around the city (probably the whole country) also ring out. Most flags at half mast.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Last of the 2014 Greetings

I realized I've been remiss about updating this blog. In the last month plus, I was working on completing my Year in Fromage and also getting the surgery to take out the breast cancer and put in the new replacement. Christmas preparations apparently took up the whatever small bit of my brainpower remained, and so I haven't updated here in a while.

Click here for a little glimpse at our year in review, because I still don't have the brainpower to write something at the moment. We're too busy purging old stuff to make room for the new stuff, enjoying the new Christmas toys and books, and meeting up with friends to take a break from our vacation with a cup of tea.

Happy Holidays, and may 2015 bring you health & happiness!
Love,
Kazz

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

In Case You Haven't Heard

I've been so open, I practically feel like I've advertised it on billboards, but in case you haven't heard, I have a little itty bitty case of not-to-panic breast cancer. You can get all the gory and not-so-gory details at A Year in Fromage -- and also see what cheese I've found to pair with it.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Getting Romantic in the City of Romance

I've been horrible -- horrible! -- about posting here, because it's been, well, quite a month. So I hope you've been keeping up over at A Year in Fromage. If not, here are two recent postings on love and romance (and dead fish) in Paris.

All you've ever wanted to know about the love locks popping up -- Whack-a-Mole-style - everywhere in Paris. And in the world.


And a wedding album like no other, mostly because it's a collection taken over the years from my local perspective. And also, because Anthony, the girls, and I just can't resist taking our own.

 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Super Ass Gyros

I'm just not sure: Would I rather have Oriental Pain, or a Super Ass Gyro?
 
 

Just after posting at A Year in Fromage about the signs in France that make me giggle I come across these gems. I've updated the posting over there, but if you've already read it, you can just enjoy these few new additions here. If not, click over and see what other beauties I've found.


And in case you're wondering, what's actually behind the strategically-placed sign in the café sign above is the letter "A".

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Sharp Photo

As soon as I hear the bell ringing, I rush to the window to see what this guy is doing. At just a glance, I instinctively know he's an affûteur -- a knife sharpener.


My knives have been dull for a good half year, and just yesterday I finally stopped procrastinating and brought them in to the sharpener. So this morning, when I see him walking on the street below, I'm distressed that I don't have any knives to give him; then I realize we have one old, cheap, chopping knife that came with the apartment that barely cuts butter. So I run down with it (yes, running with knives) in my pajamas, with my camera. It's 5€ to sharpen a knife I don't use or care about, and it's worth every penny just to get the photos. Note that he's powering the wheel with his feet on wooden paddles.

 

I suspect some of these old professions won't be around much longer, so it feels good to get my knife sharpened in the streets while I still can. For more about these old professions dying out in France, check out the story at A Year in Fromage, which I write back in May; however, I've had to update it with this morning's encounter with the knife sharpener. The fact that I catch up with the knife sharpener -- by accident -- in just the right spot to photograph him with Notre Dame in the background just tickles me.