After taking a jog this afternoon that took me past the Eiffel Tower, I'm enjoying a hot soak with a glass of wine and a good book while the housekeeper cleans my apartment, when it hit me (to steal a phrase from Davy Crockett): You may all go to hell, and as for me, I will go to Paris. Despite another cold, rainy day that left me soaked...another day that the Christmas gifts my sister mailed more than two weeks ago still have not arrived...it was another day that found me amazed to be living where and how I am.
By the way, for those who were wondering, the castrated cock was delicious. I still can't resist referring to the "chapon" or capon that way. He gave well and long: I made a hearty chicken soup that I finished up today. God bless Anthony Bourdain, and my neighborhood boucherie.
Bonne Annee!
Cass
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