Hello everyone,
We arrived in Paris at 5:50 am local time this morning after what started as a very long day that was also emotionally trying as we had to say goodbye to our neighbors and dear friends Betty, Alfred, and Paul Alcock but before that.......we had to pill Gracie Mae and Nelliebelle and put them into their soft Kitty Carriers (by Sherpa, very very chic...) for the trans Atlantic flight from Dulles to Paris. Nelliebelle was easy but Gracie Mae...............let's just say that it took me, Paul, and Cassie to chase her down, grab her, wrap her up in towel (papoose) and almost 6 tries until we were able to get the kitty tranquilizer down her throat (full dose!) and then left her in closed up in our family room for 30 minutes so the drugs would kick in before trying to get her into the Carrier (another 10 minute ordeal with me and Paul). Nellie naturally was easy to get into the carrier but pretty unhappy about it.
Gracie yelled all the way to Dulles (about 3 hours) to the point we were going to put her in the cargo hold of the plane but the Air France Agent told us that she would have needed to be in a hard case instead of the soft one so we would end up carrying both cats on to the plane. I'm getting ahead of myself here. After arriving at Dulles, things finally started to go right. Hertz assigned us a driver to the Toyota Sienna we'd been driving to drop us off at the terminal so we didn't have to drag all of our bags onto the shuttle (a miracle!) and as soon as we unloaded our bags and the cats, Gracie fell quiet!
We checked in and THEN had to go through security...........with the TSA...........and we had to get the cats out of their bags..........with hundreds of people behind us............without our shoes on..........it was quite a circus but the cats were so stoned (THANK YOU GENEVIEVE NEALE!) and the TSA guy was so nice that it went smoothly (another miracle!).
Then it was up several long escalators (Kian hates these) and onto the concourse where we'd board the Boeing 777 (BIG PLANE) for the flight to Paris. We had about 45 minutes to kill and hung out in the Business Class Lounge (sweet) and boarded from there.
The Air France folks (ALL OF THEM) were superb and once we boarded the plane the flight attendants cooed over the cats, twins, and our entire family. Kian and Niall had never flown before so this was also a watershed event for them (as soon as we boarded we gave them each small doses of Valium) but after we arrived both told me that they really didn't feel any different after taking the pills. I still suspect that the Valium took the edge off.
Anyway, the plane got ready for takeoff and the flight attendants strapped the cats into their own seats and then brought them back to us after we were in the air. The guys did great and even slept for a while on the plane after supper (steak, potatoes, green beans which they snarfed). I sat next to a really nice lady who is originally from Turkey who just adored the cats and who is starting a jewelry business in Paris. We chatted about lots of stuff and I introduced her to Cassie and we exchanged business cards. The flight was pretty uneventful and after close to 8 hours we arrived in Paris at Charles De Gaul airport where NOBODY wanted to see any of the paperwork on the cats nor did anyone wand the cats to check their bar codes Genevieve went to such great lengths to do for us. Go figure.....*
Cassie's colleague Frank Freudiger had already arranged for a driver to pick us up at the airport. The driver spoke little or no English and was listening to what sounded like one of those wacky morning shows we used to hear in the US with horns honking and they played euro-pop music and hip hop so we had that for the final drive from the airport to our neighborhood at around 7 AM and everything was REAL QUIET but the apartment is magnifique! Kian and Niall immediately wanted to rest although Kian set up his computer first followed by Niall after a short nap. Gracie climbed into Niall's bed and Nellie made the rounds until she calmed down. Everyone settled in and after some emailing and other calls Cassie and I napped for a while. It's going to take Gracie a while to recover from this. Nellie has eaten but not Gracie although I suspect she will while everyone sleeps tonight.
Cassie took me to dinner tonight at Brasserie 16 which is about 3 blocks (big Parisian blocks) from our apartment and we had a KICK ASS dinner including desert which featured corrections on our French by our waiter who was very gracious and pleased we ordered from the French menu as opposed to their English one. I suspect this will be one of our haunts here in the 16th. On the way back we picked up 12 inch Subway (yes, THAT Subway....) subs for the twins who were well pleased with the early taste of home. It's 8:40 here now and we're in for the evening. I'm going to stay up as late as I can and so will the twins and we'll begin exploring the hood tomorrow. So ends one of the most momentous days in the history of our family.
And after all these wonderful and amazing things..........pigeons are screwing on the ledges of our back windows. I can hear them now. Gotta get a couple of large rubber snakes and the Great Horned Owl that Tray gave us before we left.
Love to all everywhere!
Sid
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
Goodbyes Last Night At Traveler's
Damn what a great party! And almost everyone that is near and dear to us was there! Kristen and her crew at Travelers were awesome and the food and drink and good vibes left everyone not wanting to leave.
The packers come very soon this morning and our dear friends Dana and Sharon Horton are here from Poquoson to assist us so everything is right on time.
Gotta go for now. It's "wheels up" tomorrow evening and my next post will be from Rue Nic!
Love to all!
Sid
The packers come very soon this morning and our dear friends Dana and Sharon Horton are here from Poquoson to assist us so everything is right on time.
Gotta go for now. It's "wheels up" tomorrow evening and my next post will be from Rue Nic!
Love to all!
Sid
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Dumpster And Divers
Afternoon friends,
What a week it's been beginning with the Great And Powerful Oz at the French Consulate and coming to an end with the pickup tomorrow of our dumpster (14 cubic yards baby!) that's almost full! With gigantic amounts of assistance from our friends Paul Alcock, Tray Eppes, John Ward, Kian and Niall, and Vivian Tucker we cleared ALL of the rooms of clutter (25 years of it!) in a little over 3 days although Kian and Niall and I started last Friday.
I'm still dismantling my studio and putting everything from it that is to be shipped as "personal" stuff on Monday. What an amazing experience. The house looks bare in places now and there are boxes with handwritten notes everywhere. The cats are restless cause they know something's happening. Speaking of the cats, they were injected with their "bar" codes yesterday and an experimental dose of a sedative was given to Gracie Mae by our Vet Genevieve Neal as a test balloon and it worked perfectly. Gracie was VERY stoned for most of the evening and she's the most excitable of the 2 cats.
We're also getting some low dose relaxers for Kian and Niall who have never flown before just to take the edge off. We are after all riding Business Class on this trip which will be DELUXE for the crew and the twins for their first flight.
I'll close by saying that no sooner we'd throw something in the dumpster someone would dive in and get it out (naming nobody here as I love them all). Our friends turned the whole event into a party.
It's been easier for everyone.
God bless everyone from the Heights......*
sid
What a week it's been beginning with the Great And Powerful Oz at the French Consulate and coming to an end with the pickup tomorrow of our dumpster (14 cubic yards baby!) that's almost full! With gigantic amounts of assistance from our friends Paul Alcock, Tray Eppes, John Ward, Kian and Niall, and Vivian Tucker we cleared ALL of the rooms of clutter (25 years of it!) in a little over 3 days although Kian and Niall and I started last Friday.
I'm still dismantling my studio and putting everything from it that is to be shipped as "personal" stuff on Monday. What an amazing experience. The house looks bare in places now and there are boxes with handwritten notes everywhere. The cats are restless cause they know something's happening. Speaking of the cats, they were injected with their "bar" codes yesterday and an experimental dose of a sedative was given to Gracie Mae by our Vet Genevieve Neal as a test balloon and it worked perfectly. Gracie was VERY stoned for most of the evening and she's the most excitable of the 2 cats.
We're also getting some low dose relaxers for Kian and Niall who have never flown before just to take the edge off. We are after all riding Business Class on this trip which will be DELUXE for the crew and the twins for their first flight.
I'll close by saying that no sooner we'd throw something in the dumpster someone would dive in and get it out (naming nobody here as I love them all). Our friends turned the whole event into a party.
It's been easier for everyone.
God bless everyone from the Heights......*
sid
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Pay No Attention To The Woman Behind The Glass
By Cass
23 February 2010
After 6 weeks of living in Paris, it was a somewhat rocky re-entry this weekend.
Before leaving my new home, I spent a busy Saturday running errands preparing for the family's arrival March 3. A colleague took me on a car tour of my new neighborhood, where he'd lived some 25 years before. After we shared a cold biere, he dropped me off to settle in for the night. There wasn't much left to do, but schedule a cab to get to the airport on Sunday. There wasn't much to pack, just a change of clothes for the night in D.C. and two other pieces of luggage for the family's return trip next week.
I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport in plenty of time to purchase the French-to-American electrical adapters for my laptop and PDA. It was strange to think I needed to "adapt" to the U.S. The flight to Dulles was unremarkable -- my favorite kind. I landed on schedule around 7:15, and my checked-through bag came around the carousel within about 5 minutes. That's when the adapting really began.
First, I tried to use the GPS on my French-language PDA to get to the hotel in Georgetown where Sid was waiting for me. Non. Luckily, the Toyota Sienna has Hertz's great NeverLost system. Whew.
Pulling out of the Hertz lot, the attendant asked to see my driver's license. Uh-oh. "Dude, I just returned from out of the country and my license is packed in my suitcase. Will my passport do?" He shouldn't have, but he did, and I slipped out. Good thing I'm a pretty good liar, er, marketing professional.
Then came the toll plaza. Oh merde. "Sir, I'm really sorry, but I just flew in from France and I have no American currency at all. Would you take euros?"
"You have a yodel?" Thinking he'd misheard me, I enunciated that I could give him some euros, which are actually worth more than a dollar.
"You'll give me a yodel?" Laughing, I gave him two euros, and he sent me on my way.
The same ploy did not work at the SECOND toll plaza. He wasn't interested in my euros or yodeling, and handed me a slip of paper instead with directions to go online or mail my 75 cents in. Um, yeah. I'll get right on that.
Finally, I pull into the Georgetown Hotel & Conference Center. After parking and unloading the van, Sid and I headed to dinner at a place our friends the Wards recommended, called J. Paul's. We were enjoying our drinks when our very pleasant server brought our dinner, and I realized that I'd forgotten HOW LOUD AMERICANS ARE. The table of five jumbo voices next to us was loud enough, when they raucously announced the arrival of more friends who'd just pulled up outside the window. After six weeks of French restaurants or quiet evenings in my apartment, every decibel-denting syllable was very jarring. I'd not realized how much more reserved French people are in public places -- with the notable exception of Roland Garros tennis, World Cup soccer or transportation strikes. It was a relief to head back to the hotel.
We needed a good night's sleep before heading to the French Consulate Monday morning, where we made quite a discovery. The Great Oz is alive and well and LIVING IN GEORGETOWN. Yes, we had steeled ourselves for the height of bureaucracy when we scheduled our appointment at the Visa office. Yes, the American bacon-egg-and-grits breakfast had lulled me into a kind of food nirvana, rendering me quite placid. However, I was not prepared for the pinched woman who held our lives in her pale, bony hands from 11 a.m. until 3:15 that afternoon. There were many "issues" with our application that I won't go into here, but the kicker was, when realizing we didn't have a copy of our passports -- and don't you see the signs that say we don't make photocopies in this office -- Miss Pinch conferred with the man behind the two-way glass and told us that luckily, the boss was feeling generous that day and would LET us return at 2:30 with the said photocopies to complete our application that day. (insert Stephen Bennett singing "If I Only Had a Brain") If that wasn't satisfactory, we could always reschedule for another time. Of course, we would be happy to come back that afternoon. Thank you so much, I said through clinched teeth.
After going back to the hotel for copies, Sid wisely took me someplace for lunch that served alcohol. A house cab does wonders for easing bureaucratic tension. We returned to the little visa office at 2:15 and, after a few more questions about our marriage, our sons, my job, the meaning of life, etc., we were finally presented with an impressive sticker in each of our passports. We're now set for three months when, with a medical exam and legal support, we will get our French residency permits. As we walked in the rain back down the driveway to our parking place on Reservoir Road, it occurred to me how moving to another country is more like adoption than adapting. Anyone can be born in a country; but an adopted country is special because one chooses to do whatever it takes to make it happen. And, as for anything worth having, il faut avoir de la patience -- one must have patience.
23 February 2010
After 6 weeks of living in Paris, it was a somewhat rocky re-entry this weekend.
Before leaving my new home, I spent a busy Saturday running errands preparing for the family's arrival March 3. A colleague took me on a car tour of my new neighborhood, where he'd lived some 25 years before. After we shared a cold biere, he dropped me off to settle in for the night. There wasn't much left to do, but schedule a cab to get to the airport on Sunday. There wasn't much to pack, just a change of clothes for the night in D.C. and two other pieces of luggage for the family's return trip next week.
I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport in plenty of time to purchase the French-to-American electrical adapters for my laptop and PDA. It was strange to think I needed to "adapt" to the U.S. The flight to Dulles was unremarkable -- my favorite kind. I landed on schedule around 7:15, and my checked-through bag came around the carousel within about 5 minutes. That's when the adapting really began.
First, I tried to use the GPS on my French-language PDA to get to the hotel in Georgetown where Sid was waiting for me. Non. Luckily, the Toyota Sienna has Hertz's great NeverLost system. Whew.
Pulling out of the Hertz lot, the attendant asked to see my driver's license. Uh-oh. "Dude, I just returned from out of the country and my license is packed in my suitcase. Will my passport do?" He shouldn't have, but he did, and I slipped out. Good thing I'm a pretty good liar, er, marketing professional.
Then came the toll plaza. Oh merde. "Sir, I'm really sorry, but I just flew in from France and I have no American currency at all. Would you take euros?"
"You have a yodel?" Thinking he'd misheard me, I enunciated that I could give him some euros, which are actually worth more than a dollar.
"You'll give me a yodel?" Laughing, I gave him two euros, and he sent me on my way.
The same ploy did not work at the SECOND toll plaza. He wasn't interested in my euros or yodeling, and handed me a slip of paper instead with directions to go online or mail my 75 cents in. Um, yeah. I'll get right on that.
Finally, I pull into the Georgetown Hotel & Conference Center. After parking and unloading the van, Sid and I headed to dinner at a place our friends the Wards recommended, called J. Paul's. We were enjoying our drinks when our very pleasant server brought our dinner, and I realized that I'd forgotten HOW LOUD AMERICANS ARE. The table of five jumbo voices next to us was loud enough, when they raucously announced the arrival of more friends who'd just pulled up outside the window. After six weeks of French restaurants or quiet evenings in my apartment, every decibel-denting syllable was very jarring. I'd not realized how much more reserved French people are in public places -- with the notable exception of Roland Garros tennis, World Cup soccer or transportation strikes. It was a relief to head back to the hotel.
We needed a good night's sleep before heading to the French Consulate Monday morning, where we made quite a discovery. The Great Oz is alive and well and LIVING IN GEORGETOWN. Yes, we had steeled ourselves for the height of bureaucracy when we scheduled our appointment at the Visa office. Yes, the American bacon-egg-and-grits breakfast had lulled me into a kind of food nirvana, rendering me quite placid. However, I was not prepared for the pinched woman who held our lives in her pale, bony hands from 11 a.m. until 3:15 that afternoon. There were many "issues" with our application that I won't go into here, but the kicker was, when realizing we didn't have a copy of our passports -- and don't you see the signs that say we don't make photocopies in this office -- Miss Pinch conferred with the man behind the two-way glass and told us that luckily, the boss was feeling generous that day and would LET us return at 2:30 with the said photocopies to complete our application that day. (insert Stephen Bennett singing "If I Only Had a Brain") If that wasn't satisfactory, we could always reschedule for another time. Of course, we would be happy to come back that afternoon. Thank you so much, I said through clinched teeth.
After going back to the hotel for copies, Sid wisely took me someplace for lunch that served alcohol. A house cab does wonders for easing bureaucratic tension. We returned to the little visa office at 2:15 and, after a few more questions about our marriage, our sons, my job, the meaning of life, etc., we were finally presented with an impressive sticker in each of our passports. We're now set for three months when, with a medical exam and legal support, we will get our French residency permits. As we walked in the rain back down the driveway to our parking place on Reservoir Road, it occurred to me how moving to another country is more like adoption than adapting. Anyone can be born in a country; but an adopted country is special because one chooses to do whatever it takes to make it happen. And, as for anything worth having, il faut avoir de la patience -- one must have patience.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Georgetown On Sunday
Hi guys,
I'm in Georgetown to meet Cassie after she flies in to Dulles this evening and we'll hang out until tomorrow when we go to the French Consulate to get our visas. I still need to fill my forms out and will do so with Cassie's help this evening perhaps over dinner somewhere nice.
Then we drive back to Lynchburg tomorrow and begin the final madness that's throwing things out, making piles of things to ship immediately and try to do everything all at once in a very short time. Should be fun but things are really speeding up now and we'll just have to remain CALM......*
Perhaps Cassie will post something this evening but I suspect she'll be tired. I'm just damned glad to be seeing her again.
More later.
Love to all,
sid
I'm in Georgetown to meet Cassie after she flies in to Dulles this evening and we'll hang out until tomorrow when we go to the French Consulate to get our visas. I still need to fill my forms out and will do so with Cassie's help this evening perhaps over dinner somewhere nice.
Then we drive back to Lynchburg tomorrow and begin the final madness that's throwing things out, making piles of things to ship immediately and try to do everything all at once in a very short time. Should be fun but things are really speeding up now and we'll just have to remain CALM......*
Perhaps Cassie will post something this evening but I suspect she'll be tired. I'm just damned glad to be seeing her again.
More later.
Love to all,
sid
Friday, February 19, 2010
There's A Dumpster In The Driveway
Evenin folks,
Sorry I've been away. The runaway train is picking up speed and we don't even have bullet trains here yet but I certainly feel like I'm on one.
The dumpster arrived today and we're already throwing things away. I think it's a 15 cubic yard model that's designated to accommodate up to 2 tons of whatever. I suspect we don't have 2 tons of whatever but I erred on the side of caution just in case. We'll have said dumpster for exactly a week which is perfect for our timetable. I think Tray Eppes is unloading his truck so when he comes next Tuesday some of what we might throw away will end up in his truck. Know any other pack-rats?
All of these things trumpet our days here are finite and becoming more so. I'm having a beer tonight and am basking in what used to be a dark brown bathroom that is now white and seemingly as big as all outdoors now.
Our pal and neighbor and resident "Eldon" Paul Alcock has been at work in the house for the past week or so beginning his mission to make our house more "sellable" for our other pal Betty Burch who's entrusted with selling it.
It was a warm day here today and I can actually see parts of my driveway I haven't been able to see since before Christmas last year. I think Cassie will still be astonished when she see's how much snow is still on the ground here when we come back from DC Monday. Cassie WILL BE HOME!!!!!!!!!! Awesome! We've all missed her so, even the cats.
Next week is going to be BUSY BUSY BUSY but it will be good work with help from Vivian and the Hortons and Tray and other friends, everything that can be done will get done.
Everyone keeps asking if I'm excited yet............I'll keep that close until we walk in the door at 44 Rue Nic and then I'll be excited. Cassie will post next week.
Love to all of you out there.
sid
Sorry I've been away. The runaway train is picking up speed and we don't even have bullet trains here yet but I certainly feel like I'm on one.
The dumpster arrived today and we're already throwing things away. I think it's a 15 cubic yard model that's designated to accommodate up to 2 tons of whatever. I suspect we don't have 2 tons of whatever but I erred on the side of caution just in case. We'll have said dumpster for exactly a week which is perfect for our timetable. I think Tray Eppes is unloading his truck so when he comes next Tuesday some of what we might throw away will end up in his truck. Know any other pack-rats?
All of these things trumpet our days here are finite and becoming more so. I'm having a beer tonight and am basking in what used to be a dark brown bathroom that is now white and seemingly as big as all outdoors now.
Our pal and neighbor and resident "Eldon" Paul Alcock has been at work in the house for the past week or so beginning his mission to make our house more "sellable" for our other pal Betty Burch who's entrusted with selling it.
It was a warm day here today and I can actually see parts of my driveway I haven't been able to see since before Christmas last year. I think Cassie will still be astonished when she see's how much snow is still on the ground here when we come back from DC Monday. Cassie WILL BE HOME!!!!!!!!!! Awesome! We've all missed her so, even the cats.
Next week is going to be BUSY BUSY BUSY but it will be good work with help from Vivian and the Hortons and Tray and other friends, everything that can be done will get done.
Everyone keeps asking if I'm excited yet............I'll keep that close until we walk in the door at 44 Rue Nic and then I'll be excited. Cassie will post next week.
Love to all of you out there.
sid
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Lamborghini On The Sidewalk: I'm Not In Rivermont Any More
On this, my first Sunday in my new home, I went strolling around the 16th arrondissement to get my bearings, and to find another RER station from which to make my daily commutes. RER is like an express Metro. I discovered many things.
Remember the pre-ATM days of making sure you had what you needed on Saturday because everything was closed on Sundays? Well, the Casino grocery store where I shop – as well as almost everything else in this neighborhood – is closed on Sundays. That half-bottle (demi-bouteille) of Sancerre in the fridge will just have to do for this evening.
I also discovered why my colleagues here all shook their heads and exclaimed what a bourgeois neighborhood I’d chosen. Apparently the 16th is a traditionally upper-crust area, with many embassies and affluent residents. Of course that’s not why I picked it. My home-finding strategy from the beginning was to find the right apartment; location was secondary. However, as I took my first spin around the ‘hood, here is what I saw: A ghost gray Lamborghini was parked on a corner sidewalk – on the sidewalk, not the street. It looked like a sleek, wild animal curled up and waiting for its owner to come out and play. A few minutes down the street, I watched the woman ahead of me at the flower shop pay for a $60 bouquet of flowers with a 1000-euro note (about $1400). They asked if she had anything smaller. The shrug of her shoulders said no. Side note: the guy ahead of me at the Conforama (an IKEA-type home store) yesterday paid for his 6800-euro purchase with CASH. Finally, I passed by several buildings with service entrances clearly marked with shiny brass plaques. Rivermont used to be the affluent neighborhood in Lynchburg, but I’ve never seen signs for service entrances – not that there weren’t any; maybe they just weren’t so…explicit.
Sid and I have always said that the property values in the “oh-three” district – the Rivermont zip code – went down when we moved in. While we likely won’t have the same impact in such a big city, clearly someone didn’t check our credentials!
Oh yes, I did discover the Henri Martin RER station. It turns out that sometimes, more walking means less commuting. From La Muette, the closest Metro station to my apartment, the travel time is about 45 minutes. If I continue walking through Muette to the Boulainvilliers RER station (an underground connection between stations is called a correspondence), it’s more like 35 minutes. I’m going to take this new path to the Avenue Henri Martin RER station in the morning, and it might cut me down to 30 minutes, which would be great – enough time to get the game face on in the morning, and to down-shift at night but without feeling like I’m losing so much of my life going to and from work.
While I’ve been writing, the small, bunch of tulips I bought has opened up right beside me on my dining table, bright yellow bursts of spring on a quiet Paris afternoon. And for only 8 euros. That’s a bargain at twice the price – in any neighborhood!
By Cass
February 14th in the Rue Nic Hood*
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