It is still snowing

Tomorrow morning at 11am, I meet a very special "associate" outside a shop opened by the man who invented the Baba au Rhum.  Other than that I have very little to do this weekend; for example today, the only things I had to do were:

1. Walk to Sacré Coeur, because I cannot remember ever having been inside it and it is a good walk from where I am;
2. Buy something for supper;
3. Not eat a macaroon.

It is now the end of today, and today has been a mixed success.*  Sacré Coeur was indeed a good walk from where I am staying.  It (and the surrounding area) was also full of people who, like me, are not from Paris.  I did not have to engage with any of them until it became clear that out of the thirty people getting in the way of me getting a ticket for the funicular, I was the only one that understood the instructions on the machine.

Unfortunately,  I have the kind of simple-minded face that means that people ask me for directions and instructions wherever I am in the universe (even Mars).  It was therefore ten minutes, three Chinese people, a cluster of Japanese, some Spaniards, five Americans and a group of disorientated Greeks before I managed to mount the funicular myself, accompanied by my grateful international consortium of new best friends.   (Next time, I will stand by the machine wearing a badge that says: "I put the fun in funicular".  FYI this is the best joke I have ever made.)

Anyway, here are some photosnaps from my walk. Have a look. You may like some of them; you may not.  Either way, it is snowing again tonight and properly chilly, but I have wine in the bottle and the knowledge in my heart that in four sleeps, I will be boarding a train to Angoulême with my husband, the French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist; after two-and-a-half hours, I will get off the train and find myself waving my tiny monkey paw at the simple drooling faces of Monkeymother and Monkeyfather. Thereafter, we will get inside their car and disappear into Christmas-related activities for two weeks. It will be great.  In the meantime, I must not eat too many macaroons.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with standing outside in the cold taking
 photographs of people buying things made of butter.  And crying. 

Regardez! C'est le Père Noel.  Do not be afraid. He cannot see you naked.

Statue man. Smoking a fag. And fucking loving it.

This man played "Greensleeves", and then he played the theme from  The Godfather.
 I laughed very loudly by mistake, felt guilty and gave him 2 Euros because I am an idiot. 

I can barely look at this photograph, which is why it is smaller 
than the others. If someone put this on my plate with those
 fucking crustaceans looking up at me, I would faint. 
If you are insane, you can click on the photograph and have
a better look. I have deleted the original. 

Anyway, that is enough of that for now. If anything else interesting happens, I will let you know.

Pip "stop looking at me you shelled freakshows" Pip!

NWM



*I succeeded on the first two fronts but failed on the third. (You may, if you wish, see evidence of the success of number 2 and the failure of number 3 here).