Kippy, Jerome, Kathleen and I are hustling today, getting ready for the arrival of three Australian students early this evening rather than tomorrow morning. Plans have changed because of tomorrow's transit strike in Paris, where they've been staying in an apartment. They will be escaping inevitable traffic problems.
So we've been cutting fresh flowers from the garden for all of the bedrooms, cleaning up the garden, repotting plants, sweeping patios. Kippy's on her way to the grocery store, I'm trying to write a few words before the house fills with the energetic Australian contingent.
I must mention yesterday. The brocante (be still my heart) and all the wonderful old things to acquire, too many to grasp. Although grasp is what I did to quite a few things. Etchings, original drawings torn from an artist's sketchbook in the 1930's, little ceramic pieces. So much fun.
And then we rushed back 'home' to take quick showers, dress up a little (I borrowed clothes and jewelry from Kippy) and headed to the opera in Paris. Thank you, Jerome, for relinquishing your ticket to me. We arrived an hour early, found a cozy table at a little restaurant across the street from the Bastille Opera House (not the Paris Opera like I thought), ordered un plateau de fromages et une demi-bouteille de vin rouge, got to our seats in plenty of time and sniffed our way through La Traviata. We arrived back home around 12:30 a.m. to have a drink with Jerome and Kathleen on the patio before falling into bed.
Tomorrow will be frenzied. People will be arriving in groups throughout the day. After something to eat and drink, they will be ushered up to their rooms where they will be strongly encouraged to take naps, so they'll wake refreshed. I refused to take a nap the first time I was here because I thought I had gotten enough sleep on the flight over. But I nodded-out all day long; I was miserable. I've learned the hard way, my usual m.o. in life, to take that nap.