One hundred years after the beginning of World War One, I'm adopting the motto of the Allied Expeditionary Force (that was us, the US, for the most part) to tell the French that we've arrived. I suspect they cared more back then.
For those of you loyal readers who missed photos being posted during our last trip and who had to go all the way over to www.instagram.com/shellioreck to see what we were seeing, I think I may have fixed the problem. We'll see if it works, and if it's worth it.
Back this time in our old apartment, the duplex garret in St-Germain des Près, we feel right at home. So much so that in looking around the kitchen we find the dishes we bought and even some two-year old canned goods we left. Our dear patronne, in true French style, never gets rid of anything.
Our old nemesis, jet lag, is back with us and we're giving it its head, sleeping when we can. The weather is wonderful, which everyone keeps telling us is very lucky as the summer all over Europe was disappointingly cool and rainy. Keeping fingers crossed for it to go on.
I'm sitting in our glassed-in kitchen, windows wide open, listening to the sound of the bells of the church of St-Germain des Près. Time to go explore before our next nap is due.