--- In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, turquoiseb <no_reply@...> wrote: > > As much as I love the Netherlands, and spending time with my extended > family there, it is *also* an utter delight to be back in Paris, and to > be having dinner in a sidewalk cafe (covered and heated, of course, > because it's still almost as cold here as it was there -- global > colding, and all that), and enjoying both the food and the ambiance. > > The highlight of my time "back home" revolves around the time I get to > spend with young 4-year-old Maya. We have a weekend routine, in which > she comes downstairs in the mornings while the rest of the family gets > to sleep in, and we watch "Mayamovies" together on my computer. This > morning we watched the classic Disney "Cinderella" and a "Winnie The > Pooh" movie, and the morning before we watched "Despicable Me" (always a > delight) and a bunch of Nick Park's wonderful Wallace & Gromit movies. > We chat and do "film crit" all the way through them, which the other > members of my family don't appreciate as much as Maya and I do, as they > fear they'll never be able to take her to an actual movie theater > because she'll want to talk about the movie all the way through it. My > bad. :-) > > But anyway, back to here and now, and Paris. It's "happy hour" in this > cafe/restaurant, and the crowd reflects this. At a table next to mine, > there are three French women -- two from the traditional French gene > pool, one clearly from a more Moroccan gene pool, and they are drinking > coffees (2-for-the-price-of-one) and chatting amongst themselves quietly > and with admirable French restraint. Across the terrace, however, sit a > group of seven clearly American Girls.
You know, we should start a regular pool on how far Barry will get into his next "vignette" before he starts to rag on one of his favorite targets.
