“Cafe Americano?” I ordered, with more of a question than a statement, when the waiter tossed his long, deep-brown hair and turned his brooding Gaelic features in my direction. We, my mother, daughter, husband and I, were seated at a table at Chez Janou, a side-walk bistro in the Marais district of Paris, and I was suddenly filled with regret at my decision to drop French 101 in favour of yet another junior philosophy class. All around us people hustled down narrow, cobble stone streets, gesturing madly with a speed that was surpassed only by their speech, while the smell of French cuisine intoxicated our senses and our desire to just sit and people-watch intensified. In perfect Francaise, my Little Miss placed her order, beaming with pride at the french language skills she has acquired at such an early age, knowing that her ability in this regard will forever trump mine. The sky was grey and the breeze cool for June in Paris, but none of this mattered. I was with my family and we were in Europe, together. I was content.
My Journey to Contentment
The Mother Spider’s Reward
The sun was high in the June sky despite the early morning hour the day we saw it. It was perched precariously atop our car antenna and neither of us—my husband, my daughter nor I—was sure what it was. The consensus: Garbage. In the midst of grabbing a tissue to swipe it away, with my stomach in turmoil and my nose upturned, it moved. It was subtle at first but unmistakable, and the motion increased with the intensity of our stares. It was an egg sack. It was small and silken and perfectly shaped, and in the nascent stages of presenting to the world its swarming contents. As we stood transfixed, thousands of minuscule golden spiders wriggled their way free, crawling over each other in mayhem, uncertain as to what to do next with no mother near-by to guide their way. But quickly, like a scene from the ending of Charlotte’s Web, instinct trumped chaos and they departed, en masse, floating away on the ends of fine, glossy filaments to face the world alone.
Starbucks Should Be Licensed
Guess who just got published? Me! Please enjoy this short little piece, posted today, June 10, 2010, on the Sweet Mama Guest Blogger web site:
http://www.sweetspot.ca/SweetMama/guest_blogger/19275/starbucks_should_be_licensed/
One Joint is One Too Many
I woke up this morning with the early light of dawn. Awake at 5:00 a.m. and out of bed before 5:30, on a Saturday. I have never been one to sleep-in. Early morning has always been my very favourite time of day, especially on days like this, when my Little Miss is sleeping soundly (The Phantom in the Other Room has recently been visiting but seems to be packing his bags for a hasty departure), and my husband, who just last night returned from another week away on business, still rests peacefully in our bed with Mikey-the-cat nestled at his side. With coffee in hand, a good book beside me, a little time to write and my family near-by, life is good. The serenity of this morning is perfect, and even the grey outside my window feels comforting, like an old wool blanket wrapped around my mood to keep it warm and content. Until my morning reverie is torn to shreds by this headline: Gossip Guy Chace Crawford Busted for Pot (http://ca.eonline.com/uberblog/detail.jsp?contentId=184326).
No, I am not a close personal friend of Chace Crawford’s. I am not even a fan. It is drugs that bother me, pure and simple.