I don’t know about you, but here in the North American midwest, we’re frying this summer. We have had day after day in the high 80’s and 90’s (31-33 celsius for the rest of the universe) with wickedly high humidity. blechhh! My brain’s gone tropical and is dragging my body with it into the land of torpor.
Last year at this time, GHIW whisked me away to Paris for my 50th birthday. There, to my delight, my son and DIL were waiting to surprise me. I had packed a bag of sexy summer frocks in anticipation of languid walks along the Seine, interspersed with champagne-sipping interludes in outdoor cafes.
It was so cold and rainy that our first outing was to purchase leggings and scarves and sweaters to layer over and under those adorable dresses. Still, it was Paris, and a cold day in Paris is still better than a hot day in Milwaukee.
I’m not dissing my hometown. After all, I never found any hot beignets on the streets of Paris like the lovey one I devoured yesterday.
Happy (belated) Bastille Day to the Fillon family of Grenoble and all like minded revolutionaries wherever you may be.
Vive la resistance!