I've Grown Ferril and Unkempt

Kevin and I came back to Paris- much against my better judgment. Our visas were renewed at the border without question. The sun was out. Huffing towards the hill with full pack we saw this-

A RAINBOW! Seriously, Paris, woman please I can't stand to see you beg.

Kevin left for Germany the next day and I was left alone to write the Rhizome midterm report and to "work." Ugh! I am so weird when I am

alone.

I like to stare at strangers.

I like to pick flowers out of other people's yards- they'll grow back and bushier too.

I decided to stay inside.
That would be best.
Why startle the neighbors?

But then I ran out of food.
It was time to go to the market.
Chennevieres-sur-Marne has a Sunday market- perfect.

I knew I would have to carry everything back 1.5 kilometers up an incline that puts College Hill to shame. I knew I would have to plan carefully, I would have to be practical. There was only one thing to do.

Wear the running shoes!

In retrospect I realize it was a crazy thing to do but I had been alone for 4 days!

The market was super. There were so many bakers and fromagiers, there were the pretty young women with the fish,

the flowers

the table of olives and all the farmers! You know if you are feeling down ladies, there is one sure cure for the blues- the French farmer. On the outside he appears an average man, he is bipedal, sometimes rather handsome, but here's the thing- he will yell out to you about peppers and pears, about apples and apricots, he will compare your beauty to that of a head of lettuce!

As you can see this is quite a compliment.

He doesn't care what shoes you have on. He is primal and earthy- oh yes.
He will sing out,
"A beautiful woman deserves a beautiful fruit."
This is so true, tell me more...

I bought pâté and black olives and mimolette. I bought a gorgeous pear, of course, and sage and coconut macaroons and red peppers as sweet as apples and fresh eggs.

I forgot that I would be dining alone that night.

So what.

The willow in the garden is in bloom.

The daffodils in the yard are sprouting.

On the way up the hill I was looking left. You can see the Eiffel Tower from the entire walk up Avenue de Pont. It's my game to look for it. It always seems to be hiding. I don't know how it happened but I stepped right off the sidewalk into on-coming traffic- no I didn't die, I wasn't even maimed- not even a little bit. I was scared half to death as was the driver that almost ground me into the asphalt. Pear and cheese and peppers went flying. The olives scattered all across the street. The eggs were miraculously saved. A woman was walking up the hill behind me as I collected myself and the groceries. She seemed completely unimpressed by the fact that someone was almost killed before her very eyes. As she stepped over me, I was still gropping for peppers, I saw her look at my shoes and then at me with a disapproving smirk. I know it sounds crazy but I could have sworn she said

"You know better than to go out like that."