an afternoon sketching at Le Servan Paris
Things to get excited about this summer!
1.) Apricots! They’re starting to show up at the market, but they are just a taste of what’s to come. Cherries, nectarines, peaches, plums, mirabelles! I cannot wait to turn all of these beautiful summertime fruits into beautiful cakes, cobblers, and clafouti(s). Unfortunately, corn in France does not evoke the Midwestern summertime pastimes I think of. It’s basically pig feed. But it does not prevent me from being on a mission to find some proper sweet corn! “Chéri, fire up the barbie!”
2.) Fête de la musique. On June 21st, ringing in the summer solstice, France is bumping with free concerts, barbecues, block parties and dancing in the streets. Why can’t all festivals be for the sake of music’s sake?
3.) Cinéma en Plein Air de la Villette. When Paris transforms into a ghost town from July 25-August 26, the ‘left behind’ flock to free movie screenings every evening at dusk. Round up the friends, pack up a picnic, and the lawn chairs. I would recommend camping out early; the place fills up quickly. And if the sun is still out, I like to follow in the very big footsteps of Yogi Bear and creepily cruise around to see what is in other people’s picnic baskets. Anyway, «Métamorphoses» is this year’s theme. Check out the excellent schedule here.
We’ve set a date! The renovations are wrapping up in our new place. And we are set to move in next week. But sweet nostalgia is sinking in. I’ll miss our untamed little garden out back. The warm tradition at our local boulangerie. The peeling paint. And the curtains of cobwebs. The assortment of wildlife that creep into our bathroom. The defunct washing machine which serves as our only counter space. The scars on my shoulders reminding me of our ongoing war against bedbugs. The upstairs neighbors and their Saturday morning smooth jazz sessions. Wait a minute, let’s blow this joint!
The best part about the weather heating up is the complete shedding of all sartorial grey. I have recently taken a liking to the 86 bus, which crosses smack dab in the middle of Paris. It keeps me more in tune with the colors and dynamics of the city, unlike the zombie slog fest of the Metro. I can attest that lIterally overnight, the boots and parkas transformed into vivid color, legs, and fluid trails of fabric. It’s not even just the girls with their sheer tops and microshorts, even the chic little old ladies are sporting a little shoulder. Although I was scolded at an apero last weekend for sporting bare legs (“T’as pas froid? T’es sûre?”), Paris has officially begun its season of pleasantry. And it’s just one big communal sigh of relief.