You may or may not have noticed that I don't post photos of myself very often. Well, I don't take photos of myself. So it stands to reason that I'd feel compelled to post this one, which is completely unflattering. It's a reenactment of my tumble down the stairs from our loft bed in the studio apartment. I was heading down to write early in the morning.
May I just say OUCH! There was seriously a moment after I'd fallen (my feet had been about 3 feet above floor level before I fell) when the breath was knocked out of me and I wondered if I'd ever walk again. I still don't understand how I didn't break my neck. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about this.
Poor Mom, having to hear all that! Yikes. I did go into shock. Shivering and all that. Went back to sleep on the couch downstairs for a few hours. Developed a hematoma on the back of my leg (don't Google hematoma, you'll regret it). Trust me when I say that I had one before of the variety that is a sort of bag of blood under the skin, without a lot of skin discoloration until a couple of days later.
I felt pretty good, other than my leg hurting off and on, but getting out and moving seemed best, so we did.
Small bottles of olive oil hung as a chandelier at Olivier & Co., on rue Cler. We went back to this market street to pick up wedding gifts.
This was our shopping day. Rue Cler, and then off to the Marais district where we found the BHV department store. Where I found gifties for my writing group! We found out from a couple of guys on the bus that Samaritaine has been closed because fire hazards were discovered. No wonder we couldn't find it in the Yellow Pages! (And it was about 4 blocks from our apartment, if we'd only looked UP!)
It was our day for getting roughed up. As we got on the Metro, the doors slammed shut on Mom! Whomp. She wasn't getting out without a bruise. Scary!
Hydra called this evening, sounding like a French woman, and I was completly stumped, thinking it must be for Vladimir, the owner of the apartment, until I heard him trill Chevrolet coupe'! Sheesh!
Okay, I messed up when I posted this the first time because I was looking at the photos, not my little notebook. We went back to the Musee d'Orsay on Sunday the 20th. But the rest is all true all the time.
Safe inside the Musee d'Orsay. Yes, we went back and spent another few hours here, and had lunch in the cafe, behind the clock (not this clock). This photo was taken from the observation platform at the top.
One of my favorite pieces. And the light from the window was very helpful.
I was waiting for this hallway to be clear of people in order to take a photo, but one or two stragglers would always be there, and they often stopped to look out through one of the small openings down to the floor below. (This is the wall shown in the overview photo above.) Finally, I got it: this is the picture, not the empty hallway!
Stopped by a traiteur (no not a Vichy sympathizer, a deli) on rue de Buci to pick up a couple of salads to go along with our bread and cheese for dinner. Mmmm.
The area we stayed in was dotted with art galleries. This installation went in kitty-corner across the street while we were there, I think. Seemed like we'd seen it empty when we first arrived.
1 comment:
Love the olive oil chandelier, and glad that you're not seriously hurt. I was beginning to wonder about the absence of veggies, especially greens. All that cheese, bread, and fruit sound good, but a couple of days without greens, and I really start to miss it.
Shu-Ju
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