Eli

Last Saturday we returned to Paris after spending a week in sun-kissed Vaison-la-Romain, a humble town in Provence surrounded by deep blue montagnes (mountains) and dotted with châteaux, Roman ruins, and family-owned vignobles (vineyards). Seven decades ago, my house-mom's grand-père (grandfather) built a home and a winery just outside of the city. Though the family still harvests grapes for wine, the home now serves as a family getaway from the pulse of Parisian city life. The land is magnifique (magnificent/beautiful), lined with thousands upon thousands of grape vines whose branches weigh heavy with delicate and sweet Syrah grapes-- the sweetest I've tasted. It was a needed break, but I was ready to return to Paris. Too many bugs.

In other news, I've wanted to write about Hugo's nanny for some time now, but I'm afraid I lack the diction to do her justice. Eli, a 29-year-old from Paraguay, is one of the most delightful women I've worked alongside. She speaks Spanish and broken French, so our communication consists of simple vocabulary, laughter, and the occasional frustrated exhale when the boys act out. Thankfully the language barrier has nothing on our teamwork! I especially love being in the kitchen with Eli; she's an incroyable (incredible) cook. The warm, inviting smell of butternut squash soup or simmering lentils may leave the kitchen in a day, but I can only hope her selfless-nature, her creativity, her patience and her eagerness to help will forever stay with me.

Observations:
-Hugo smells perfect after his bath; I could kiss his soft blond curls a million times over.
-Daily my thoughts take me from "I'm having ten kids" to "I'm never having kids."
-Mom-- forgive me for ever complaining when you put a hot meal on the table.
-The chewing gum in France is awful.

Picking the last of the apple harvest.

Vaison-la-Romain

Local cheeses

Tuesday morning at an open-air market.

Un chat (a cat) in Vaison-la-Romain.

Roman ruins

Thank you Lord for reminding me of your promise when the day has gotten the best of me!

Love it all through!

A group of Auburn girls studying in Italy visited Paris this past weekend, and what a joy it was to spend time with such familiarity! We enjoyed a picnic dinner on the Champ de Mars in front of the illuminated Tour Eiffel, complete with baguettes, fromage (cheese), fraises (strawberries), figues et poires (figs and pears), Jacques Genin chocolat, vin blanc et vin rouge (white wine and red wine).
     We took a bike tour.

         We indulged in savory galettes, Ladurée's macarons, and sweet crêpes. 

             We admired Notre-Dame.
                 We sipped vin chaud (hot spiced wine) and chocolat chaud (hot chocolate).
                     We explored the Marché aux Fleurs et aux Oiseaux (flower and bird market).
                         We stumbled upon the Fêtes des Vendanges de Montmartre.  

                                                                 

In other news, I'd like to bring something to the foreground. Am I overjoyed to be here and grateful for what I am learning? Yes. Do I wish to come back to the US after just nine months? Not a chance. But let me tell you this: not every day is a dream. Not every day holds a walk among gardens of autumn flowers in full bloom. Not every day is filled with five-star French cuisine, a glass or two of fine wine, or a relaxing afternoon reading an enticing novel in le Parc Monceau. After all, I'm not on vacation; I'm doing life here. Oftentimes I feel tired. I feel I'm lacking patience with Dimitri, Victor and Hugo. I feel under-appreciated and overwhelmed. I feel intimidated by the French culture, the language, the lifestyle.

That said though, I love it. I love the seemingly perfect days and the days I'd rather curl up in bed and read, because each day is coming together, piece by piece, creating this chapter of my story. I am in love with this life.

"You have to digest life. You have to chew it up and love it all through. You have to live it with your eyes, really... You can talk and talk about it and not get it right. You have to do it."     -The Paris Wife

Auburn friends in Paris!

Soupe à l'oignon

An outdoor market.

An old train station.

Marché aux Fleurs et aux Oiseaux

Polo de Paris

A fruit market.

A long walk along the Seine.

A flower market.

A home in Montmartre.

C'est l'Automne!

They go in his pockets.

It's a strange place to be in-- living in a home where you're neither family nor guest-- but I've adjusted well. Dimitri and Victor are obeying, Hugo has adopted me, and Elvire & Christophe are... still a bit intimidating, but it's all in my head.

Because the French expect the best and encouragement is not their forté, my mistakes appear magnified. A few deep breaths later, I recall I'm human. There never has been nor will there ever be a perfect au pair, and the Lord continually reveals to me that earning my worth by striving for perfection is impossible. That said, I'm thankful amidst my frustration.

"Our self-worth is too often based on what other people tell us about ourselves. The one, true authority on our self-worth is Jesus Christ, and since He gave His own life up for us by dying on a cross, that should tell us just how valuable we really are."   
-S. Michael Houdmann

Things:
-Paris is a good reminder of how much extra spending money I don't have.
-I made a friend from London who loves to bake as well! We're saving up to take a pastry arts class at Le Cordon Bleu.
-To the stores so pretentious I have to ring a doorbell to enter... I have nothing to say to you.
-I found a fabulous pair of 7 for all Mankind jeans at a vintage shop for 5 euros. Do they fit right now? Of course not. Will they fit? TBA.
-A girl from my home church (www.fpco.org) is doing mission work in Paris with her husband. This week we are going to church together-- an answer to many prayers!
-While reading The Paris Wife, I learned Ezra Pound isn't in fact a plump, female African American poet, and I'm still trying to figure out when I formed that misconception.

"Did your dad catch the kisses you blew him out the window, Dimitri?"
"Yes. But do you know what happens if he doesn't catch them? They follow him and when they catch up to him they go in his pockets." 

Le Café de Chats

Le Marais

Le Marais

Watches on display in Les Collections Vintage at the Hôtel du Louvre.

Moulin Rouge

Vintage store in Montmartre

French figs are splendid.

 

La Pistacherie, a fancy nut shop.

The most fabulous restaurant! The Swarovski chandeliers and all the little crystals extend across the entire ceiling.

Julia Child's apartment while she attended Le Cordon Bleu, 81 Rue de l'Université.

Le Tour Eiffel

I love writing letters and post cards. Write back soon!

Pont Alexandre III

Authentic.