Editing (life)

In a last-minute change of plan, we are no longer flying to Paris today. We are taking the train.

The bags are packed, the taxi is ordered, the boys have had second breakfast. I am going to shut this down now, go downstairs and pace fretfully until the taxi comes. Karen says I can pace with her. We shall pace together; we could practically call it marching.

Avanti popolo.

En vacances

Tense Chaz apparently gets tense. When we have to catch a train in N'cle to catch a train in London to fetch us through to Paris, and when all the London trains out of N'cle are running late-late-late and we have to wait for the one we're booked on - apparently, I get tense.

Still, Sean was there on his way elsewhere so we could bother him for a while, and then our train did come, and we did take it; and we did kinda rush from King's Cross to St Pancras but it isn't very far; and I did get taken aside at security and all my luggage frisked for explosive residue (because I had a corkscrew in my bag) but hey, he was nice about it and I've never been frisked for explosive residue before; and there was an obnoxious loud family in our carriage utterly heedless of anybody else but hey, the nice people brought us free wine and second helpings too; and the taxi driver did take us all around the houses but hey, we ended up eventually at the right house.

And we are in a timbered mediaeval building within spitting distance of Notre Dame, and we have sat out on the sidewalk and eaten cassoulet and drunk vin tolerable and watched the entirety of Paris teeter by on heels, and it is warm and lovely and we are in Paris and everybody here is in couples and so are we.