paris – The Butterfly Chronicle

September 26, 2019June 30, 2020

“What” and “If”: Two Innocuous Words

Two innocuous words that when used together have the ability to put the brain into complete spiral.

Vanessa Redgrave in ‘Letters to Juliette’

Well, this is my fourth attempt at a blog post. I have been thwarted at every turn. Twice, the wifi cut out in the middle of me writing…once my piece was lost due to my own error in closing the window, and then the second time it was saved, but alas the moment of inspiration was lost.

When I create, whether painting or writing, I tend to work until the piece is done. I will go back and edit or modify a painting at a later time of course, but the initial genesis always comes out in its first iteration in one sitting. So I have a few posts now sitting in construction, and I will attempt to come back to them, but for now I am surging forward.

It has been a hard week with a few emotionally dramatic scenarios occurring. They are not my stories to tell, but they have been dramatic and traumatic. I think Roo will allow me to say that he was mugged. He is physically ok, but mentally quite shaken. A guy accosted him at the skate park (about 2.5km from our apt) and tried to take Roo’s drink off him. Roo stood his ground and then the man followed him into the skate park course and started to point and pull at Roo’s knee and elbow pads. Roo had the good sense to leave the park, but unfortunately the guy followed him…keeping out of sight. When Roo opened his cross body bag to retrieve his key card to enter the building, the guy sprang on him as Roo was closing the door behind him.

The guy grabbed him by the scruff and thrust his hand into Roo’s open bag and made off with some cash. He couldn’t steal the whole bag as it was attached to Roo so that’s at least a consolation. The loss of money was little consequence compared to the awful feeling of violation Roo felt being accosted in our own front lobby. So that has very much eroded his sense of safety and well being. And it’s really unfortunate because Roo was just starting to feel at ease, making small circles from our apartment to get familiar with the area. Our neighbourhood is very safe and it’s just very unfortunate that this crime of the skate park followed him home.

Roo’s courage and resilience has impressed me no end and I am pleased and relieved to see him recovering. This incident has however lessened his love of this city, and he is struggling with not wanting to remain here. This is a familiar predicament for me because I was an exchange student to Venezuela and I had some exceedingly traumatic events occur and I was desperate to leave. I didn’t disclose to my parents the full extent of what had happened so they didn’t know what I was dealing with, and insisted I stay. My mom grew up in the Middle East and a day where bullets didn’t ruin the family’s good sheets while they were drying on the line, was a victory. My mom is made of tough stuff and I know wanted me to grow from my challenges of living abroad.

But do I think leaving Venezuela would have been the right choice for me? I do. I stopped going to school in Venezuela because I was harassed there by the boys, and I turned to exercise as a means to cope. I lived in a tiny gated community of about 6 houses in the mountains and we had a shared driveway that was about 1 km long at about a 40% incline. So I sprinted up it. Again, and again and again. I also found a gym I could go to and feel safe and so I worked out. Class after class after class. When I arrived back in Canada I was wiry and lean (and absolutely totally mentally wrung out.)

My physical prowess inadvertently put me in perfect condition to hit my next chapter of life which was starting in the Canadian Navy as a Fighter Pilot trainee. I arrived being able to surpass all the physical fitness standards set for (women and for) men. I could do chin ups for days and as the smallest person was always the ‘marker’ when we formed up. (The marker was the one around whom everyone else had to keep the proper distance so the squad stayed in perfect formation while in motion. It was kind of a thing of beauty to be honest, but I was often shrieked at to slow the pace while we ran for miles as one.) So perhaps the challenges of South America prepped me well for military life, but Rupert is not training for military forces and he is also only 12. So we are working our way through finding what will feel like the right path forward for him.

Regardless of what we all decide is the right choice for Roo, I know this experience of living in Paris (regardless of the length of time) will inform him for the rest of his life….and I don’t just mean the being mugged part. That was an unfortunate experience but there have already been soooo many good ones. So it’s a matter of finding the balance of how many good ones we pack into his bucket before he returns home to Victoria.

As I sit writing this, my hair is in a wild mess on top of my head. We are now at day 3 without hot water and feeling like I’m back in the military, on a multi-day field exercise where personal hygiene isn’t a priority. But I have to take a moment and let off some steam, and say, ” ummm, WTF?!…last I checked I am living in PARIS….one of the largest metropolitan cities in the ‘modern’ world. Why on God’s (still mostly…) green earth is it taking 2-3 days to get a part for a boiler in a building that has just been gutted to the studs?! ”

This is a rhetorical question, because in France in this situation one just shrugs one’s shoulders and simultaneously exhales whilst also saying ‘Ufffffttt….’ and trailing off. I mean honestly I would expect this from some enchantingly quaint town in rural Italy, but not in the freaking centre of freaking Paris. Sorry there is a lot of ‘freaking’ happening here, and let me just say that I’m actually toning it down.

I wrote about the challenges of the French bureaucracy….I accidentally typed that as ‘bureaucrazy’ and really, no spelling mistake could be more apropos. In order for us to ‘validate’ Georgia’s student visa we need to pay a small ‘administrative’ fee and present her visa and passport to our local city hall. In order to pay the aforementioned admin fee, however, we need to have a French bank card or credit card to pay. Those are the only two accepted forms of payment.

I am now about a month and a half into the process of getting a bank account. I’ve given them copies of everything under the sun, I even have my IBAN number AND have given them 800 Euros to open the account. I felt like I was just about there, but do you think I can get the bank to give me the bank card to be able to access my bank account?! Absolutely not! That appears to be a whole different thing. I’ve been to the bank four times. They now know me there. They actually KNOW my first and last name just by seeing me. At least I have that going for me, except they just shake their heads and give me the French ‘uffffttt’ about where my bank card is. Apparently they are waiting from authorization from the heavens. God, if you are listening….I know you have WAY bigger fish to fry….world peace, starvation, environmental peril, the ill and the suffering…..they all take priority, and I want them to, but…..I just kind of really need that bank card in order to get some $hit done down here in the earthly realm.

I’m not one to watch many movies, but lately I’ve just needed to escape into some kind of feel-good screen therapy. My latest drug of choice was a delightful little movie called ‘Letters to Juliet’. I am most certainly NOT recommending it because I don’t want to hear from anyone who says it’s a cheesy giant cliche. Maybe it is, but it offered a little bit of welcome happy magic to me as I feel like I’m floundering in a french quagmire of challenge.

Letters to Juliet is the story of a young girl played by the absolutely gorgeous Amanda Seyfried who stumbles upon ‘the secretaries of Juliet’ who are the Veronese women hired by the city to reply to all the letters written to the famous Juliet Capulet. In a lovely twist of fate involving her ill-suited fiance, she ends up replying to an overlooked letter from 50 years ago and setting off a chain of events that leads to the search of one woman’s unrequited love.

The story is a beautiful adventure through the most absolutely stunning Tuscan countryside. It is everywhere I would like to be right now. And it gives me pause.

When I was looking at being an exchange student all those years ago, I had wanted to go to Australia, but my mom insisted I go somewhere where I would learn a different language and expand my cultural awareness. So I went to Venezuela.

When Georgia was applying to design schools, it’s no secret that I thought the ‘right’ choice for her was the Design Academy in Eindhoven in Holland. But when she got the nod from Paris, everything else faded to black. She was determined to be here, and I wanted HER to make her own decisions. But I also didn’t think it would be a great idea for her to hit Paris alone. After all, Paris is a big city, with the propensity for danger. ( #MuggingMuch ?! ) So I wanted to accompany her and ease in the transition.

I’m not sure I’ve succeeded thus far with easing much, however. I think my frustration with most things French hasn’t been very easy for her (or Roo) to endure. And maybe it was a mistake to think I could handle the chaos of all things big city-ish nevermind, en Francais. Big cities and I are not bosom buddies. I question my sanity in being here every time I head to the gym to out-run my thoughts and to enjoy the gym’s wonderful peace and quiet.

I was on the treadmill the other day and my favorite Prince song came on. I couldn’t believe the flood of memories the song brought back. These must be some of the best song lyrics I know. (I know I don’t get out much, but the whole ‘Trojans/horses’ analogy is still as amazing now as it was all those years ago.) I was close to Rupert’s age when the Purple Rain album came out. My beloved aunties bought me the cassette for my birthday and I played it non-stop on my waterproof bright yellow Sony Walkman.

Anyway, with one thing and another I find myself daydreaming about the ‘what if’s’. And if Roo and I happen to disappear, I can tell you where to find us. I will have found us a bright orange Ferrari California and we will be racing through the rural Italian countryside in search of the next best olive oil, with Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” blaring in the offensive way in which only North Americans are capable.

**“Buckle-Up Bitches!” (as my favorite fashion design student in Paris is known to say…**)

September 12, 2019September 13, 2019

Parles Francais?….

Bumbling along in one of the most beautiful cities in the world with my rudimentary language skills.

One of my dear friends (and my former boss back in my advertising hey day…😄) has the most amazing brain that is always curious and hooked into whats happening here, there and everywhere. She is coming to visit and I couldn’t be more excited to trail her around this city that she knows better than me. She has also been a wonderful resource sending me so many interesting articles about living in Paris/France.

When one moves to a foreign country, one of the best ways for it to cease to feel foreign is for you to be able to converse in the language. Well, I have a little experience in speaking French but I am definitely not where I would like to be. That said, I keep plodding away with lessons and enthusiasm. (I suspect both are of equal importance! ;o)

But my aforementioned friend sent me an article about the French and how their language informs how they communicate. I found it super interesting.

Apparently the English language has 500,000 words and French has 70,000. I am sort of stumped to hear this. French is rumoured to be THE language of love afterall….maybe keeping it simple makes it sexiest?! I have no idea but as always, color me intrigued.

I also have to admit to feeling weirdly grateful to have english as a my first language if the bit about word use is correct. I am someone who LOVES words. I love learning vocabulary and I am weirdly obsessed and delighted with knowing as many of our words as possible. Afterall, the ability to very precisely articulate my thoughts and ideas is of great importance to me.

I just enjoyed a visit from a very dear longtime friend and we were speaking about our human frailities. She said she had realized she has a deep desire to be liked and accepted. I said I could understand that, and that my own fraility is similar but with a twist. I have a deep need to be understood. And for that reason, the ability to hold an arsenal of vocabulary to enable articulation of my perspective is a huge joy.

So this means the discovery that the French language, again…perpetuated to be one of the most endearing and romantic in the world, contains only 70,000 words is so surprising to me. Mais, ce n’est pas possible! How do the French manage to sound so damn sexy and beautiful with their, can I say it, *limited* language?!

So of course now I’m thinking, and I’m observing how our languages differ.

I went to the gym today after 5 (very sad) days off because of a very unfortunate mancold. (I am really getting some milage out of this whole mancold thing. Usually I get a bug and throw it off, but this bug really grappled on with a vengeance and definitely deserved the ‘mancold’ moniker, but i digress…) Do the French “digress”? More likely they ‘step’ or ‘pass’ or something else that they also do in 25 other situations.

For that is what I have determined is the difference between French and English. In English we are super specific and super direct. We have a specific word to describe precisely what we mean. The French are more laissez-faire with the whole concept of words. The same word can be used to mean a few different things depending on which words precede it and which come after.

I love this concept of french language because in practical terms it means you are playing russian roulette on a daily basis, haha. Here is what I mean….getting back to the gym. (See I always loop around even if it takes me a while.)

So I’m back at the gym this morning and the lovely gentleman there asks how I am and I can tell by his intimation that he recognizes I’ve been absent. I’m not in the habit of whining about maladies but I do like to try and make conversation and I could tell he had noticed my absence so I prepared myself to say ‘I was sick.” I said “J’etais” and paused while I searched for the word ‘sick’.

He looked on with interest as I paused. In my mind I knew I had said “J’etais…” as in “I was” but it also sounds like ‘jete’ (or jetee, or jetes, or jetees) which google (translate) tells me, means ‘throw’, but years of ballet also tell me it means ‘jump’, as in ‘Grand Jete’, so while i paused for a micro second to search for the word ‘sick’, he was actually no closer to knowing what I was about to say.

It took the word “malade” after the “j’etais” for him to know I was whining about having been sick, as opposed to saying something weirdly random about throwing or jumping. And this examplifies EXACTLY what I have experienced in blundering around trying to speak French: that the specific words mean less actually than their context and relation to the words on either side of them.

I am happy admitting that I am a total weirdo who thinks of things like this, but it is a really fascinating concept to me about the power of context. It also explains why the French are perceived as being ‘subtle’ and perhaps a bit ‘circumspect’. Their subtlety comes from their lack of word choice I think. Can I say that?! It’s not meant to be critical, it’s just meant to be an observation. I am constantly surprised to type different things into Google Translate for help in relaying what I want to say and seeing the same words for different meanings.

In the article my friend sent to me,

“context includes tone, body language, setting and situation.” INSEAD Business School Professor Erin Meyer identifies 8 scales to demonstrate how different cultures relate. She says countries like the US and Australia are low-context cultures where people generally say what they mean. However France, like Russia and Japan, tends to be a high context culture, where good communication is sophisticated, nuanced and layered. Messages are both spoken and read between the lines.”

Meyer explains that because the French have access to fewer words than English speakers, Francophones must string together a series of words to communicate their message. “This not only forces the French to be more creative with language, it also allows them to be more ambiguous with what they want to say.”

Wow….I have to sit with that for a moment. I already feel duped somehow. I am not someone who favors ambiguity and it’s a challenging concept to realize it’s a fundamental underlier for some of the world’s languages. I can see this needs to be a new challenge for me: to accept, and groan….’learn to enjoy’…lack of clairity. Gaaaaa, it makes my eye twitch just even considering it….wink, wink. Why would less clear be better?!

In the article Meyers explains how these differences affect how different cultures conduct business meetings. The French have grown up with the concept that no doesnt mean no (and I’m NOT making reference to consent during sex but that is an interesting aside I now think.) Anyway, in French, ‘no’ may mean no, yes or maybe. Apparently it is taught in school to argue one’s point from both sides and then to draw a summary, hence when French business people say ‘no’ they are often actually meaning to open and invite a discussion for debate. Huh. Is that so?!

And….apparently there are a bouquet of ‘no-s’ which can mean a variety of things.

Groan!…a bouquet of ‘no-s’ which mean a whole host of differing things?! Mon Dieux! I am clearly such an Anglophone!!! I thrive on clear specific precise communication. This whole ‘no might mean 10 things situation’ does not make immediate sense to me….especially because as a Canadian, I was raised to be ‘respectful’. Generally speaking, if Canadians are told no, we tend not to argue the point, and instead ‘behave ourselves, and retreat.’

This cultural difference however does help me to understand how and why I felt so much irritation and frustration trying to get visas and then more recently trying to get a bank account and do other basic life activities.

Researchers suggest that the ‘no’ so favoured by the French comes from a cultural obsession with not wanting to be blamed for being wrong. Hmmm. And the practice of saying ‘no’ a few times before saying ‘yes’ seems so ingrained in culture that people factor it into their conversations and planning, even within families between husbands and wives.

Cultural consultant Polly Platt describes a scenario whereby she convinces her husband to go on a vacation to the place of her choosing. Platt says she knows her husband will automatically say ‘no’ to her first few suggestions so knowing this she puts out some decoy suggestions that are not her actual choice. As predicted her husband says no to her first 3 suggestions and then finally agrees on her last suggestion…which was actually her first choice.

OH. MY. GOD. REALLY?! This is a CULTURAL NORM?! Wow. I had no idea how North American I really am. I don’t have interest or patience for these kind of ‘games’. I know it risks sounding judgemental to refer to a cultural norm as being a game but I struggle to see it differently. (And Oh Dear, I hate it when I am confronted with how set in my ways I really am. It’s indeed a sobering thought. I thought I was adaptable and open minded. Apparently not…)

I can’t help but wonder if this same strategy relates to shopping for women? Does this mean she shows her male partner 3 items she has zero interest in before showing him the 4th item which is actually the one she covets? Good lord….what a time suck?! Who can be bothered with this farce?! My motto for shopping is ‘Get in, get the thing you want, get out!’ Wow…I am SO not French!!!

In the French language, “I love” and “I like” are the same?! What the actual heck?! I’ve seen that “I feel” and “I think” also have one translation…and yet they are NOT the same thing I would argue! I will start to keep track of other examples because there truly have been so many, already!… (And I’m pretty sure Ms. Meyers is waiting with baited breath for my elucidating perspective complete with examples to hit her inbox….bahahaha.) And it is only because I have a little prior experience with French that I can read the suggested translation when it’s offered to me and then go back in and search for an existing French word that better articulates what I want to say.

But for now whether I like or love something remains for the listener to decide. No wonder the French are considered some of the world’s best lovers?!…. 😉✨

This article (link below) explaining how/why the French don’t get ‘excited’ is also fantastic. It explains how the French live in the verb of ‘to be’ whereas as North Americans we live in the land of ‘to do’ or ‘to have’. We live in the future and it could be argued it’s to our detriment. We are always planning and looking forward, often forgetting to just sit and enjoy the now.

The article further articulates our cultural differences. It is also a great reminder never to tell a French person you are excited unless it’s intended as a romantic overture because in French ‘excited’ references physical stimulation or arousal. In French ‘arousal’ and ‘emotional enthusiasm’ must share a verb. C’est vraiment dommage, non?…

http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20181104-why-the-french-dont-show-excitement

September 9, 2019December 10, 2019

Lessons From Fashion’s Best

Anna Wintour: Masterclass in Teaching Leadership and Creativity

I am a huge fan of the MasterClass App. I love the fact I can take courses wherever I go (and lectures can be downloaded for offline viewing on planes etc.) The app also has a wonderful concentration of ‘industry bests’. To be clear, I’m not sponsored by the app, although I’m thinking it might be something for me to pursue!! I am just a legit fan because I love to learn but also want to do it on my own schedule and locale. (I practice yoga the same way but will leave my yoga app endorsement for another post!)

The courses offered on the MasterClass App are so varied and regardless of one’s field of interest, the knowledge imparted by instructors always seems widely applicable. Malcolm Gladwell was my favorite because his energy and passion for his craft and its subjects sparkles palpably, but the (new) Anna Wintour class I just finished was profoundly more thought provoking and inspiring than I would have imagined.

I was very surprised by Georgia’s choice to study Fashion in Paris. I thought she would choose perhaps a more varied design education where she would learn industrial design, commercial interior design and residential interior design. But her dad and I brought her to Paris at the age of 8 for her ‘alone (with us but without her brothers) trip’ and the city made its indelible mark on her. So when she decided to study Fashion in Paris I decided to learn all I can about the industry because it’s not something in which I’ve had a huge amount of interest.

I suppose I just didn’t really understand why people follow Fashion. Wearing the latest creation of a popular designer or fashion house has never seemed to me like evidence of original thinking. But having finished Anna Wintour’s Masterclass I am pleased to say she has very much broadened my perspective of the role of fashion in the world.

I think one of my main take aways from her course is that not everyone can be a creative leader, but everyone can contribute in a creative way to influencing the world around them. Some people design clothes and others wear them, but those wearing them can be influencers in their own right. Anna Wintour, Editor in Chief of US Vogue magazine since 1988, seems not only to be an incredibly intelligent and not the least bit vacuous person, but also highly aware of the impact and role that fashion can and should play in the world at large. I found her perspective as being considered one of the (if not THE) most influential fashion personalities in the world entirely engaging and illuminating.

Here are some of the most salient points I gleened:

Give people change. People want to have their perspectives challenged and informed even if they enjoy moaning about it. People look to industry leaders to suggest new ways of thinking, being and doing.
Lead from the heart. Choose to work with people who stand for something…and if they stand for something different than you do, become informed from their perspective. Everyone has something to teach us.
Lead by instict, and don’t succumb to outdated thinking. Often the business minds that are behind the creative minds have dramatically different ideas about the creative world, but as a creative person you have to confidently stick to your guns and trust your own inclinations (and learn some powerful tools of persuasion.)
Let the master lead. Always be seeking and supporting new talent if you are lucky enough to find it. (And if you can, make sure it’s someone’s specific job to seek new talent in every area of your business.) And when you find these people, listen to them! Be confident enough to recognize they may very well have a better idea than you do and that your job is to support the best idea, not generate all of them yourself.
Keep your ear to the ground. Every industry is influenced by the world at large and the changes that are always occurring in culture. Being creative is about allowing yourself and your direction to morph as you recognize how the world around you is shifting. I personally liked this point because I made me hopeful that the fashion world is very much aware and is responding the the demands we humans we are inflicting upon the world. This makes me hopeful that tomorrow’s designers who are more ecologically minded will be recognized and supported for their innovation in fashion by fashion media leaders.
Bring others into the process and trust your team. This relates to the point about letting the master lead. It’s important to love a surprise, and to force yourself to remain open to the unexpected. Anna Wintour speaks about various shoots she had envisioned entirely differently but when the photographer, art director, stylists and models etc. were there in the moment together, they all responded to the energy and forged their own way. Having confidence in one’s team to delight you inspires them to continue to do so.
Don’t take credit. Always recognize that every accomplishment is the result of a team of people, so always acknowledge the successes as they occur but give specific credit to others. Empowering those around you will make everyone’s work better.
Take risks and be willing to make mistakes (and then own them, learn from them and move on from them.) Being bold and being wrong creates more learning than cruising along doing the same old thing.
You learn by giving back. Anna Wintour started the CFDA – Vogue Fashion Fund Awards which support young designers by awarding them grants to launch their businesses. She says the visits to the studios of designers and engaging with them is some of her most important work, not just in supporting and encouraging those designers but through being able to see the world through their eyes. She says she learns as much from designers starting out as from the established industry masters.

And my favorite take away, because I’m someone who hasn’t really understood the role that fashion can play in the bigger world is:

10. Find the bigger meaning in your work. There are always ways to speak to the world’s woes in a creative way that can lead to progressive thought and change. In a polarized world it is imperative to take a stand for what you believe in even when and perhaps especially if it’s unpopular. Everyone has a voice. Listen to them all. Encourage discourse so you make an informed perspective on what to support. It’s a serious responsibility to form an educated opinion and share it by creating work that supports it.

The September Issue of Fashion Magazines is the most important one for a fashion magazine apparently, and there is a film about Anna Wintour and her team’s creation of one of those editions. Here is the trailer. I’ve not seen it yet, but the trailer depicts a more ‘cutting’ version of Anna Wintour than was my impression of her from her MasterClass. In her MasterClass series she seems entirely approachable and open minded, gracious and charismatic, but I’m sure she also needs to be discerning and determined and sometimes uncompromising to be the successful head of America’s most influential fashion media outlet. And so should she be.

September 6, 2019September 6, 2019

Exercises in Patience

Aka losing my mind and feeling like an imbecile at not being able to do basic things: Living in Paris 101

Well, I had a lovely long newsy note that I had created for my next post by way of update to getting started here, but my computer lost the wifi connection just as I completed it, and closed the internet so I lost it. It’s such a perfect metaphor for the frustrations we have encountered trying to do basic things.

Our new apt is SO lovely, and is very high tech ‘smart’. This means however that our modem/router is not in our suite; it is in the mechanical room that we cannot access, and so when the internet connection glitches and I would normally reset the system, I now cannot. We have spent the first week trying to get all our gizmos online so we can complete what needs to be done. Georgia needs to buy ‘social liability insurance’ online and other things I am embarassed to say I’ve never encountered before in order to be considered registered for school so she can retrieve her course schedule. And Roo is trying to have a video meeting with his teacher and submit his homework which has been tricky. But they replaced the internet equipment apparently and it seems to be humming along, except now for some reason my laptop cannot connect despite all my usual fixes. So it feels our efforts are being thwarted left and right.

My sister in law told me living in France would sometimes have me in tears of frustration. I would say we are feeling more like we have rage of frustration. Maybe we are the feistier side of the family, har har. The list of things we cannot understand and do is long and not very distinguished. I’ve even failed at online shopping for goodness sakes.

I ordered a bedside table for Roo from Ikea and it never came (to our last apartment.) I called twice and tried to explain the issue to no avail and eventually had to go to the store and wait for 20min to speak to a person who admitted there have been delivery issues, so I was credited the amount (with a long coded number handed to me on a small sticker) that I am supposedly meant to submit onto another online order to try again. I’ve not yet summoned the courage to attempt another order. (I am tempted to make Roo use my yoga block trick!..)

Then a few days ago I ordered a small kitchen appliance to our home address to be delivered by the equivalent of Express Post in Canada. When I tracked the package it showed it was set to deliver yesterday but it didn’t come. I figured it must be delayed until today so I asked the building caretaker if she knew. She said no mail had arrived for us. I told her in my absymal French about the package and she said if they had attempted a delivery and come when she wasn’t there, they would have left a note but they had not so she had no idea. So I logged back online to track it and saw it was then listed as available for pick up at the ‘retreival point’.

This milk frother order was beginning to sound like a military extraction of agents in hostile territory. ‘Retrieval point’ is great,….but pray tell….where is this elusive top secret locale?! I had to follow a trail of links in French to ascertain the package was awaiting me at the local bible studies shop. The local bible studies shop?! Perhaps the secret to parcel delivery is divine intervention?!

A few weeks ago, we tried to buy Rupert an ‘unaccompanied minor’ train ticket to travel to the south of France to see his friend, but the ticket could not be purchased online without being paid for with only either a French bank card or French credit card. So we went TO the train station to buy the ticket with cash but were told they only sell those tickets online. #ShootMeNow

Georgia needs to validate her student visa and in order to do so, she has to present herself at the equivalent of City Hall and pay a small registration fee. And you guessed it…they won’t allow the fee to be paid by any means other than a French bank or French credit card. And she has to have the visa validated in order to attend classes.

So we had to apply for a french bank account and if you remember our woes about getting a French Student Visa, let’s just say the bank account application process has been rumoured to be similar. I’ve had two conversations with the bank manager in French, and we have submitted everything except the kitchen sink.

So those are just a few of the logistical challenges we are encountering. Nothing is life threatening so these are very much first world problems, and I will say that everyone is exceptionally nice and willing to help or waive certain things away like they actually don’t matter, (despite the paperwork saying to the contrary.) The hard-won student visas for the kids, for example were of little interest to the French Border and Immigration guards. They continued their conversation to one another and waved on us casually.

But the challenges are hugely time consuming and maddening. And we are even in a better position than many given we have some rudimentary language ability. (Although clearly our language is not that good because it didn’t spare G and me from punishing training sessions at the gym today with two separate trainers, when what we had thought we had arranged was a ‘how to use the machines’ session. We emerged sweating like two drown rats. But we were definitely exercised and the sessions were free of charge which was a happy surprise.)

I can’t imagine doing these ‘living tasks’ without any abilities in French, and I suspect G will not be the only student who doesn’t have every duck in its row.

The class lectures are supposedly in English but we were at the school yesterday enquiring about some of this stuff and were directed to some of the staff and all of the conversing we blundered through was in French. Georgia had read in online reviews of the school that they say the courses are taught in english but all the real teaching happens in French. That is ‘vraiment evident’, so I guess she is definitely learning French as well as Fashion! And of course that’s a whole pack of wonderful but right now, while we are floundering our way through things, it’s more than a little challenging.

Georgia received a supply list for school and for items we didn’t understand, we used a translation app to hysterical result. Apparently she needed a 10 metre long ruler as well as both a full size pistol and a package of five smaller hand-pistols. (Turns out it was a 10m roll of lined paper…thank goodness….carrying that 10m long ruler was going to be a challenge, wink wink, and the pistols were in fact some kind of plastic geometrical sewing shapes.)

Anyway, so you will now have gathered we are finally ensconced in our new apartment and we are really thrilled with it and its close proximity to G’s school. Our other apartment was so noisy and this one is like a vault….with the minor exception of some major construction currently happening in the suite beneath us!! Omg…. In Victoria we had moaned about the neighbors next door grinding rocks for months to put around the base of their house and we thought it couldn’t get worse. Now we have drilling and sawing right underneath us. Georgia thought they were going to come through her shower this morning!!

The building is a beautiful Haussmanian construction that has been gutted and beautifully redone, enhancing all the original mouldings and detailing, but having added a contemporary glass addition out the back flanking the courtyard, creating two massive walls of glass. The light pours in and we are spoiled with a lovely new and modern kitchen.

The owners renovated, starting from the top of the building and so each time a suite is completed they rent it out. So we just moved into this one and the last one to be completed is the one beneath us. We are foolishly hoping it won’t take long. (Riiiight…..)

Rupert has begun his online classes and is taking it in stride, and G is prepping for her orientation tomorrow (Friday). She is pondering WTW (what to wear) and though this is probably her most enjoyable challenge lately, it is arguably not entirely insignificant since it will be her first day of fashion school and first impressions matter as they say.

August 12, 2019August 13, 2019

“Annie, get yer brollie ☔️, and yer pie dish…🥧”

When it rains, it pours but they say you don’t move to Paris for the weather. 😉 So when Paris gives you soggy croissants, you attempt to make Bread and Butter Pudding with them. 🥐 ☔️ 🤷🏼‍♀️

So, alas not everyday in Paris is La Vie En Rose.

(What the heck?! Why not?! How did Coco Chanel make it work?….)

How living in Paris is in my mind, vs the reality of how it feels at the moment:

So for those of you who follow my instagram accounts you have gleaned that Roo and I are rockin’ it out alone here at the moment, awaiting la grande ‘demoiselle’ of fashion herself to arrive:

Throwback from when she was rockin’ the runway at age 2:

Georgia as my model when I had “George Clothing Company” (pre-walmart moving into Canada and issuing us a Cease and Desist Order….we had only trademarked for Western Canada. Most costly business decision ever….)

And before her Royal Highness of Fashion arrives, Roo and I have been navigating a few new challenges:

1 We have to move. This apartment is for sale and the owners will be allowing prospective purchasers to come through which isn’t really what we had in mind. And then of course we would/could have to move at some point when we are feeling really settled, so we decided to look for something else. So that’s been happening…just as I’m settled, the universe says, ‘oh no, you don’t….

2 We have had a leak in this apartment. It’s in a corner of the bathroom we don’t use much and the leak isn’t coming into our bathroom but is apparently leaking very hot water into the storage space below which prompted the building guardien (caretaker) to come knocking on our door with the plumber one evening when we were in our PJs. So we had a 10:30pm-midnight plumbing investigation happening which is NOT how I recommend one spends a Saturday night in Paris. grumble grumble…

3 Today, the plumbing issue continues. Yesterday apparently the water was still flowing into the storage space below so I had to be in constant communication with the apartment owner (who is in LA) to keep him informed with photos etc as to the progress. The plumbers are now cutting through the wall as I write this to see what’s happening with the plumbing behind. What’s that you say? Sorry I cant hear a thing over these saws. grumble grumble moan and groan.

4 Roo’s school has moved which explains why we couldn’t see any signs of it at the address we had previously visited. Wow. Thanks for the heads up. (Not!) I would have thought that might be some critical info for people moving from half way around the globe and seeking accommodation nearby…but there we are. So we have decided to give a pass on the school. Roo is super keen to do the ‘Distance Learning’ and I’ve now adjusted to that so I think we could make a good experience of it. (Plus the school here has upped all its fees and associated fees (bus, lunch, sports) AND moved to the Trocadero…which is chaos central and so not somewhere we want to be schlepping to and from on a daily basis despite its jaw dropping view of the Tour Eiffel.

**Love this! And reminds me that one system doesn’t fit all. #HomeSchool #FingersCrossed …Unless you are a fish, penguin or a snake in which case** **just wiggle, or wink your eyes, or do some kind of a happy dance that works in the absence of fingers to cross! hahaa**

So that’s the scoop. Oh! and it’s been pouring rain which Roo is grumbling about because it makes driving his remote control car less responsive. I however am ok with the respite in heat. My back is still bothering me so cool weather makes me feel less guilty about being a bit lazy. And one could always turns soggy croissants into this:

https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/caramel-croissant-pudding

But I did start a Kundalini Yoga program yesterday morning and that was shockingly amazing. I heard Madonna is a fan which i think is what likely put me off, and that it doesn’t seem remotely athletic but given I was just wanting to be able to move without pain, I was all for a chill yoga experience. I loved it. The teacher is an older woman who is so graceful and lovely I was quite transfixed by her. I can’t wait to do it again. I do yoga on an app so I can access it any time which works so well. So after one class I did two more and I could move again!!! As I said to a friend: I KNOW I know I need to do yoga daily….why am I so pig headed about wanting to?! I think it’s just the Border Collie in me: I would rather just run at top speed chasing squirrels. I don’t have the focus and calmness for yoga: yet….. wink wink. Clearly I need to keep working on this. Working by sitting still: Such a foreign concept to me! 🤪

So when you see me next, if I’m in tights and draped in a kaftan and wearing a white wrap around my head with a beautiful stone, you will know that Kundalini dun got me real gud. (Besides….I would never have to do my hair!?….Endless benefits I can see…..)