June 14, 2007
Dobry den,
Libor and I spoke of how mutually unprepared we are to teach this year's courses last night. He said his older son Mattias had met Robert Fulghum at the Rover Scout meeting referred to in one of the links I sent you in the last travelog. It seems to be a big year for meeting people--me and Petr Dvorak, Matias and Robert Fulghum, GWB and all the disgruntled Czechs who do not want their city closed down by a visitor who wants to use their soil for missile bases.
And as for the question of royalty: Voytech speaks no English in spite of his one week course with me four years ago so I guiltily hung around all morning while he mopped and cooked lunch. My attempts to help were met with laughing "ne, ne"s. The the coup de grace fell when he delivered slices of watermelon to the garden after lunch. I tried to entertain Beni by squirting seeds from between my thumb and forefinger but ended up entertaining myself with the pleasant thwock of seeds hitting grape leaves. None of you except my relatives and former students know that I knocked a contact lens out a girl's eye in l966 and avoided being the scandal of Girls' State (the students don't know this part) only because two girls from Bassfield, Mississippi pre-empted my newsworthiness by being caught in bed together.
Anyway, I tried to be guestly good and weeded in the vegetable garden a bit. I hope I don't learn that I have uprooted some valuable interplantings. Also used experience removing the suckers from tomato plants to help discern what to remove from the grapevines. Did not come away with any handsful of the infant grapes so guess I did a good job there.
We began the early afternoon over wine and snacks in the garden but were driven indoors by a hail storm which damaged nothing important. We continued our festivities indoors with a Czech movie with English subtitles. The movie, Ucaztnici Zajezdu, which would probably be translated into Tourists in English, is about a group of trippers who go with a travel agency on a bus to Croatia. The drivers are obsessed with having their brown plastric coffee cup holders returned, a middle aged couple is dying to find a partner for their "ham-thighed" daughter who ends up finding a great one on her own, and there are two elderly ladies who spend a great deal of time on one of them's past. It was quite good and reminded me of my similar trek to Croatia three or four years ago.
Milan came home with cherries from Veronika's grandfather's trees so I stuffed as many as possible into my mouth while kicking the soccer ball around for Beni. Also made the family recipe slaw from the outer leaves of the cabbage which Betty was discarded from her pork and cabbage dinner. Voytech really likes it, Betty ate some politely, Milan snubbed it cold, and I ate a huge heap.
Thursday afternoon we finally realized my fondest Ratiskovice hope and rode the drazin. Now, I remember from my Mickey Mouse Club Jiminy Cricket educational cartoon days that the draisine was an early version of a wooden foot-pushing-on-the-road bicycle. This drazin is a pedal powered private rail car that covers 2.2 KM and back on disused rail line that once went from a coal mine near Ratiskovice to the canal heading north and the Morava River. There are two blue upright bicycles, complete with darling little bells to warn traffic out of our path. These can bemoved to face inthe direction in which you wish to locomote and turn the carriage wheels. Suspended between them are facing two seater green canvas seats resembling lawn chairs. Milan, Veronika, and I took turns pedaling while the third party got to sit in the canvas seat and be the queen.
A few meters past the edge of town we were riding through pristine forest with blue and yellow and pink wildflowers, orange and yellow and white butterflies by the beezillion, and mushrooms growing between the rails. On the outbound we spotted a small red deer eying us but he finally bounded on over the track. Coming back, a little bird ran the rail in front of us (rather like your protagonist, Lee) until we got too close and he flew off.
Then we perused the tiny railway and coalmining museum in two railroad cars--one about 70 years old and the other about 160 years old. The seats were made of wooden slats, would seat about 6 people each and originally had controllable steam heat under them. The caboose/baggage car was the older carriage and looked like it would make a great playhouse.
A small 10 percent beer in Milan's favorite pub and now it is back to work on the English course and the salad I promised to make for supper.
Slave driven,
Lowell
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Ceska Poste III (I think) which music lovers need to read through and a special appeal to Larry VanDyke
Dear Friends and Lovie-Doves,
SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU ARE NOT A READER
Just spent over $30 on English language paper backs as I have sucked up everything I brought with me and only have a few pages left of the book Josef brought me. It is a book of essays by Bohumil Hrabel couched as letters to his American friend April Gifford. Besides many a mention of names as well known as Shirley Temple, Charlie Chaplin, Andy Warhol, Milos Forman, Franz Kafka, Rainer Maria Rilke, Boris Pasternak, and on and on--Hrabal also refers to the very same Gulf Stream swept spot in northern Scotland where palm trees grow that is mentioned in the Southern mystery I finished, Patricia Sprinkle's DID YOU DECLARE THE CORPSE? Also read and wept and wept over Elizabeth Berg's NEVER CHANGE. Has anyone read it? If so, let's talk. I loved her exposition of how one can grow into a nurturant adult in a nurturing profession in spite of surviving a cold childhood. She also has thrown a great deal of needed light for me on living with people in difficulty. As the laws of synchronicity have it, Sprinkle also speaks to that through her protagonist who says many women confuse marriage with ministry.
48 hour day
On the road down to Pribram Friday night we passed a short convoy of antique cars with right hand drive, including one with a wicker trunk strapped to the back bumper. Also passed a number of small castles, some open to the public and some not. Perhaps another time...
I stayed in the flat where Dana grew up in Pribram, a flat that will be Jana's in the future. Dana and Josef had brought a fine supply of food and drink for me so I was well set up--especially since I had books and the deep tub for my first sit down bath since leaving the USA! I take it back--I had one at Anne Alexis's. Well, you can't have too many bubble baths.
Saturday we started the morning at Svata Hora, a monastic pilgrimage site at least 800 years old. It is completely unlike any other church or chapel I have ever visited. In addition to the main church with its solid silver massive altarpiece, there is a glorious terrace chapel built for the occasion over 200 years ago of the coronation of a statue of Mary and Jesus to which many miracles are attributed. In fact, the ceilings of the cloisters that run all the way around the main church are covered with the painted record of these miracles. There is also a covered stairway leading from the site down to the town of Pribram. Under the main sanctuary there is also a stalactite chapel. We heard the organ, bells, and clock chimes.
We had few minutes so we stopped to visit Dana's sister Ilona in Lesetice, a tiny village. The conversation was all in Czech and covered the new WC and the newly required well specifications. I enjoyed just being there and looking at a cool l920-30s ish horizontal oval Madonna and Child that covered one wall of the living room.
Next we toured the Vojna Memorial, a prison camp begun by German laborers but taken over by the communists for the punishment of political prisoners who opposed Communism. They were forced to mine uranium. The entry is marked Praci ke Svobode, the Czech version of the Work Makes You Free that is found in German over Auschwitz. The most horrifying thing I saw here was the corrections bunker where prisoners could barely stand and were kept underground for days on end with no food, water, sanitation, etc. Sometimes it rained and the bunker filled with water waist high so the prisoners could only stand or stoop. In hot weather, tar dripped through the ceiling which they used to inscribe messages inside the bunker.
AFter a delicious picnic of rohliky, syr, chipsy, a jabloka (rolls, cheese, chips and apples) we went to the park where Antonin Dvorak's in laws lived. We wandered up onto a wedding at their beautifully maintained ochre and white small mansion (Is this a leto?) The bride and groom were busy being showered with bubbles by their guests and cutting a large heart out of a sheet being stretched out by other guests. Dana assures me this is NOT an old Czech tradition. In fact, Josef called it an invention.
The house is a memorial to Dvorak but was his sister-in-law's residence. I enjoyed the rooms, the letters of tribute, a film in English and the music but was really awed when I asked the ticket seller if the family still used Dvorak's family home Rusalka since it is not open to the public. He introduced himself--Petr Dvorak--the composer's great grandson and said, yes, the family still lives at Rusalka. I am quite atwitter at being only 6 degrees of separation from Dvorak! I learned there that Josef Suk is also a Dvorak descendent and that Renee Fleming had Czech grandparents.
As if this were not already a complete day, we made another stop. We had to take a one lane dirt detour to get through Beltice to the glass blowing studio. I bought a sturdy kostyr/liquer glass for myself and the Zakovi bought several items. The glassblower said he learned first through an apprenticeship but then went to art school. Josef says they were hesitant about where to settle as there is no glass blowing tradition in Beltice, but apparently they made the right decision as their glass is sold in Prague Castle, among other venues. They gave me a DVD catalog to bring to the USA in case you need to place an order! The artisan concluded the sales by pouring us each a tot of oreschovice, a nut brandy.
Then on to the Zakovi cottage in Smetanova Lhota--a restful walled garden spot with the sweetest well water and the most fragrant roses. I ate about a dozen delicious jahody or strawberries from the garden though Jana declared that they were all dried up. After serving a delicious dinner of chicken and vegetables with rice and cherry tomatoes and plenty of red wine, Dana brought out many pieces of her pottery. Larry, I so wish you and she could see each other's work. If Josef sends me any digital photos I will forward them to you. The same if you will send me any digital photos of your work. She has a huge variety in her output, but I especially liked a rooster flat bottomed vessel with a tall skinny neck rather than spout rather like pre-Columbian artifacts. I also loved a skewed rusty clay tower with glazed black details like gargoyles and gutters and window bars.
On the way back to Pribram we stopped at the cemetery in Cimelice to water Josef's ancestor's graves. Graves are generally planted or have very neatly arranged gravel or both and are much more carefully maintained than in the USA. I kept getting my flip flops stuck between the stone kerbs around the graves and could not move in any direction.
Sunday morning there was a big thunderstorm. Also my foot was giving me trouble so I skipped the walk to the very interesting looking silver mining museum and read, read, read and ate, ate, ate. Upon my return to Prague Sunday night I went to the internet cafe for some amazingly good gazpacho which was a great substitute for the salad I was yearning for.
This morning Hana ate breakfast with me again and plied me with cookies left over from the wedding she went to. She felt beautiful in the new black and white striped dress. Then my train trip to Breclav where Betty and Milan picked me up. We went to Hodonin and shopped for the wonderful cherries and berries I am eating now plus other groceries and the rest of the day has been rest, read, and write to you.
Ahoj and love from Beni the poodle, who remembers me,
Lowell
SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU ARE NOT A READER
Just spent over $30 on English language paper backs as I have sucked up everything I brought with me and only have a few pages left of the book Josef brought me. It is a book of essays by Bohumil Hrabel couched as letters to his American friend April Gifford. Besides many a mention of names as well known as Shirley Temple, Charlie Chaplin, Andy Warhol, Milos Forman, Franz Kafka, Rainer Maria Rilke, Boris Pasternak, and on and on--Hrabal also refers to the very same Gulf Stream swept spot in northern Scotland where palm trees grow that is mentioned in the Southern mystery I finished, Patricia Sprinkle's DID YOU DECLARE THE CORPSE? Also read and wept and wept over Elizabeth Berg's NEVER CHANGE. Has anyone read it? If so, let's talk. I loved her exposition of how one can grow into a nurturant adult in a nurturing profession in spite of surviving a cold childhood. She also has thrown a great deal of needed light for me on living with people in difficulty. As the laws of synchronicity have it, Sprinkle also speaks to that through her protagonist who says many women confuse marriage with ministry.
48 hour day
On the road down to Pribram Friday night we passed a short convoy of antique cars with right hand drive, including one with a wicker trunk strapped to the back bumper. Also passed a number of small castles, some open to the public and some not. Perhaps another time...
I stayed in the flat where Dana grew up in Pribram, a flat that will be Jana's in the future. Dana and Josef had brought a fine supply of food and drink for me so I was well set up--especially since I had books and the deep tub for my first sit down bath since leaving the USA! I take it back--I had one at Anne Alexis's. Well, you can't have too many bubble baths.
Saturday we started the morning at Svata Hora, a monastic pilgrimage site at least 800 years old. It is completely unlike any other church or chapel I have ever visited. In addition to the main church with its solid silver massive altarpiece, there is a glorious terrace chapel built for the occasion over 200 years ago of the coronation of a statue of Mary and Jesus to which many miracles are attributed. In fact, the ceilings of the cloisters that run all the way around the main church are covered with the painted record of these miracles. There is also a covered stairway leading from the site down to the town of Pribram. Under the main sanctuary there is also a stalactite chapel. We heard the organ, bells, and clock chimes.
We had few minutes so we stopped to visit Dana's sister Ilona in Lesetice, a tiny village. The conversation was all in Czech and covered the new WC and the newly required well specifications. I enjoyed just being there and looking at a cool l920-30s ish horizontal oval Madonna and Child that covered one wall of the living room.
Next we toured the Vojna Memorial, a prison camp begun by German laborers but taken over by the communists for the punishment of political prisoners who opposed Communism. They were forced to mine uranium. The entry is marked Praci ke Svobode, the Czech version of the Work Makes You Free that is found in German over Auschwitz. The most horrifying thing I saw here was the corrections bunker where prisoners could barely stand and were kept underground for days on end with no food, water, sanitation, etc. Sometimes it rained and the bunker filled with water waist high so the prisoners could only stand or stoop. In hot weather, tar dripped through the ceiling which they used to inscribe messages inside the bunker.
AFter a delicious picnic of rohliky, syr, chipsy, a jabloka (rolls, cheese, chips and apples) we went to the park where Antonin Dvorak's in laws lived. We wandered up onto a wedding at their beautifully maintained ochre and white small mansion (Is this a leto?) The bride and groom were busy being showered with bubbles by their guests and cutting a large heart out of a sheet being stretched out by other guests. Dana assures me this is NOT an old Czech tradition. In fact, Josef called it an invention.
The house is a memorial to Dvorak but was his sister-in-law's residence. I enjoyed the rooms, the letters of tribute, a film in English and the music but was really awed when I asked the ticket seller if the family still used Dvorak's family home Rusalka since it is not open to the public. He introduced himself--Petr Dvorak--the composer's great grandson and said, yes, the family still lives at Rusalka. I am quite atwitter at being only 6 degrees of separation from Dvorak! I learned there that Josef Suk is also a Dvorak descendent and that Renee Fleming had Czech grandparents.
As if this were not already a complete day, we made another stop. We had to take a one lane dirt detour to get through Beltice to the glass blowing studio. I bought a sturdy kostyr/liquer glass for myself and the Zakovi bought several items. The glassblower said he learned first through an apprenticeship but then went to art school. Josef says they were hesitant about where to settle as there is no glass blowing tradition in Beltice, but apparently they made the right decision as their glass is sold in Prague Castle, among other venues. They gave me a DVD catalog to bring to the USA in case you need to place an order! The artisan concluded the sales by pouring us each a tot of oreschovice, a nut brandy.
Then on to the Zakovi cottage in Smetanova Lhota--a restful walled garden spot with the sweetest well water and the most fragrant roses. I ate about a dozen delicious jahody or strawberries from the garden though Jana declared that they were all dried up. After serving a delicious dinner of chicken and vegetables with rice and cherry tomatoes and plenty of red wine, Dana brought out many pieces of her pottery. Larry, I so wish you and she could see each other's work. If Josef sends me any digital photos I will forward them to you. The same if you will send me any digital photos of your work. She has a huge variety in her output, but I especially liked a rooster flat bottomed vessel with a tall skinny neck rather than spout rather like pre-Columbian artifacts. I also loved a skewed rusty clay tower with glazed black details like gargoyles and gutters and window bars.
On the way back to Pribram we stopped at the cemetery in Cimelice to water Josef's ancestor's graves. Graves are generally planted or have very neatly arranged gravel or both and are much more carefully maintained than in the USA. I kept getting my flip flops stuck between the stone kerbs around the graves and could not move in any direction.
Sunday morning there was a big thunderstorm. Also my foot was giving me trouble so I skipped the walk to the very interesting looking silver mining museum and read, read, read and ate, ate, ate. Upon my return to Prague Sunday night I went to the internet cafe for some amazingly good gazpacho which was a great substitute for the salad I was yearning for.
This morning Hana ate breakfast with me again and plied me with cookies left over from the wedding she went to. She felt beautiful in the new black and white striped dress. Then my train trip to Breclav where Betty and Milan picked me up. We went to Hodonin and shopped for the wonderful cherries and berries I am eating now plus other groceries and the rest of the day has been rest, read, and write to you.
Ahoj and love from Beni the poodle, who remembers me,
Lowell
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Ceska Posta II
Friends,
First things first. Is there a volunteer to pick me up at the airport in Jackson on July 16? Here is the catch--it is at 11:30 pm. Still--know any teenagers? EYC-ers? Anyone?
Bought chips, beer and soda at the Koubkov (my landlady's family) butcher shop at 6:40 though the sign clearly says they close at 6. Items were for guests as the Zakovi visited last night. They also brought chips, wine and fizzy water and the landlady came downstairs with cookies after giving Dana a guided tour of Pan Koubkov's wood carvings.
The wine was a commercial white wine from Moravia--quite good--and was a nice top to my first Czech beer of the year at noon yesterday. Dana is learning the placement of head and face features in ceramics and Jana has a new drivers license. She also just finished a very good 13th year piano recital and is scheduled for a choral performance tongiht. Her parents may not get to attend because they are awaiting delivery of a new refrigerator. Josef translated tirelessly for Dana and me and brought me a new Bohumil Hrabal book which is next in line after the psychological thriller I am reading now. Greg (my preist) gave it to me in France when he finished it--a murder in Seville with lots of history of the Spanish civil war and WWII.
Hana, the Koubkov daughter who is a friend of Theo's former pupil Kamil, had breakfast and good visit with me this morning. She is a tall, beautiful size 6 or 8 redhead who is in a frenzy about buying clothes for her law school graduation and a family wedding because here she wears XXL and has difficulty finding pretty youthful clothes. She begins her new job in two weeks at the international law ministry! Kamil also graduated and begins an international sales job.
I lunched at a pizza place on felafel and Czech salads with a yougurt and granola sundae.
Jim, your Japonsky is now Express Sushi.
The Koubkovi trwins are now adorable two year olds. The part of the garden where they filled and spilled bowls of red currants last summer is now planted intomatoes. Wonder what they will do with that.
I spent the morning tracking down and buying a new phone as the antenna on the brand new one from the USA is broken. Anything to stay in touch!
After directing some Canadians to the right metro stop (I am SUCH a tour guide) I went to eat lunch with my old friend/student Ivo who manages a chain of shoe stores in Prague. I ate a roast chicken breast and roasted mushrooms piled on a salad with a mayo-ish dressing and a large high alcohol content draft beer.
Ivo has lost about 30 pounds playing on a local soccer team and has let his black curls grow out a bit so he looks very good. He has a new girlfriend and hopes to move back to Ratiskovice to live in the house he recently inherited from his babka/grandmother. He knows eh will make much less money but likes the possibility of having a simpler life with his own garden and winecellar. He tells me that his father's cellar is empty becuase he and Milan and Martin have drunk it all up but I don't believe him.
Read all afternoon--The Blind Man of Seville--a psychological thriller Greg passed on to me after he finished it at Taize. It is the second novel I have read lately which features an artist who paints his wife/lover/model as a landscape. But I can't remember the first one so I don't know what good it does me to read?
On my way to meet my evening friends I overheard a group of fifteen German teens receiving the same sort of lesson I had tried to impart to our kids in the Paris Metro. The leader was showing them how to know where they are and which train to get on and where they will get off. Another leader was snapping photos. Just like us except more kids and fewer adults. And the Prague Metro is much much simpler.
Spent the evening with my old friend Jakub who is now in charge of 56 branch managers at the headquarters of a large Czech bank. He spends the rest of his time being immensely proud of two year old Tomas who is walking and learning to talk. His wife Dana has taken the baby with her to her family's home so they can babysit while she completes her dissertation and her exams for her degree over the next few weeks. He said a few nights ago he and Dana sat up until 3 am working on the dissertation--the only alternative to killing her!
The party also included Jakub's brother Karel who is an engineer for a multinational headquartered in Hollad. He usually works in North Africa and has a sweet deal of working a month, then furloughed back home for a month. HIs girlfriend Anna, pronounced Anya, is a beautiful blonde Pole who was excited by my dove cross as she has been to Taize too and was eager to talk about it. We even sang a few Taize hymns right there in the pub to the astonishment and puzzlement of the rest of our party.
There was also Canadian Bob, whom I have met before in Hodonin, a sort of ex pat hanger on with foul language and dull conversation except for his one idea of fillling the American presidency thorugh a lottery open only housewives since housewives know how to balance budgets, treat people civilly, maintain a clean healthy environment and tell their families what sorts of things are out of the question.
Last in the group was RAdim who is a PR man for Pilsener Urquell, Coca Cola and several other high profile clients. He was smiling, quiet and kindly accompanied us to the subway since Jakub had had three beers to every one of mine and had enjoyed tequila shots with every one at the table while I had only one and did not even want that as I have been off tequila and liquor in general.
Had breakfast with Hana again and she modeled the dress she had bought for the wedding--a black and white stripe that falls from a high neckband and has a belt low on the waist. Craig and Theo, you will not be surprised to learn that it came from H & M.
Best wishes to all and love to some--you know who you are!
Lowell
First things first. Is there a volunteer to pick me up at the airport in Jackson on July 16? Here is the catch--it is at 11:30 pm. Still--know any teenagers? EYC-ers? Anyone?
Bought chips, beer and soda at the Koubkov (my landlady's family) butcher shop at 6:40 though the sign clearly says they close at 6. Items were for guests as the Zakovi visited last night. They also brought chips, wine and fizzy water and the landlady came downstairs with cookies after giving Dana a guided tour of Pan Koubkov's wood carvings.
The wine was a commercial white wine from Moravia--quite good--and was a nice top to my first Czech beer of the year at noon yesterday. Dana is learning the placement of head and face features in ceramics and Jana has a new drivers license. She also just finished a very good 13th year piano recital and is scheduled for a choral performance tongiht. Her parents may not get to attend because they are awaiting delivery of a new refrigerator. Josef translated tirelessly for Dana and me and brought me a new Bohumil Hrabal book which is next in line after the psychological thriller I am reading now. Greg (my preist) gave it to me in France when he finished it--a murder in Seville with lots of history of the Spanish civil war and WWII.
Hana, the Koubkov daughter who is a friend of Theo's former pupil Kamil, had breakfast and good visit with me this morning. She is a tall, beautiful size 6 or 8 redhead who is in a frenzy about buying clothes for her law school graduation and a family wedding because here she wears XXL and has difficulty finding pretty youthful clothes. She begins her new job in two weeks at the international law ministry! Kamil also graduated and begins an international sales job.
I lunched at a pizza place on felafel and Czech salads with a yougurt and granola sundae.
Jim, your Japonsky is now Express Sushi.
The Koubkovi trwins are now adorable two year olds. The part of the garden where they filled and spilled bowls of red currants last summer is now planted intomatoes. Wonder what they will do with that.
I spent the morning tracking down and buying a new phone as the antenna on the brand new one from the USA is broken. Anything to stay in touch!
After directing some Canadians to the right metro stop (I am SUCH a tour guide) I went to eat lunch with my old friend/student Ivo who manages a chain of shoe stores in Prague. I ate a roast chicken breast and roasted mushrooms piled on a salad with a mayo-ish dressing and a large high alcohol content draft beer.
Ivo has lost about 30 pounds playing on a local soccer team and has let his black curls grow out a bit so he looks very good. He has a new girlfriend and hopes to move back to Ratiskovice to live in the house he recently inherited from his babka/grandmother. He knows eh will make much less money but likes the possibility of having a simpler life with his own garden and winecellar. He tells me that his father's cellar is empty becuase he and Milan and Martin have drunk it all up but I don't believe him.
Read all afternoon--The Blind Man of Seville--a psychological thriller Greg passed on to me after he finished it at Taize. It is the second novel I have read lately which features an artist who paints his wife/lover/model as a landscape. But I can't remember the first one so I don't know what good it does me to read?
On my way to meet my evening friends I overheard a group of fifteen German teens receiving the same sort of lesson I had tried to impart to our kids in the Paris Metro. The leader was showing them how to know where they are and which train to get on and where they will get off. Another leader was snapping photos. Just like us except more kids and fewer adults. And the Prague Metro is much much simpler.
Spent the evening with my old friend Jakub who is now in charge of 56 branch managers at the headquarters of a large Czech bank. He spends the rest of his time being immensely proud of two year old Tomas who is walking and learning to talk. His wife Dana has taken the baby with her to her family's home so they can babysit while she completes her dissertation and her exams for her degree over the next few weeks. He said a few nights ago he and Dana sat up until 3 am working on the dissertation--the only alternative to killing her!
The party also included Jakub's brother Karel who is an engineer for a multinational headquartered in Hollad. He usually works in North Africa and has a sweet deal of working a month, then furloughed back home for a month. HIs girlfriend Anna, pronounced Anya, is a beautiful blonde Pole who was excited by my dove cross as she has been to Taize too and was eager to talk about it. We even sang a few Taize hymns right there in the pub to the astonishment and puzzlement of the rest of our party.
There was also Canadian Bob, whom I have met before in Hodonin, a sort of ex pat hanger on with foul language and dull conversation except for his one idea of fillling the American presidency thorugh a lottery open only housewives since housewives know how to balance budgets, treat people civilly, maintain a clean healthy environment and tell their families what sorts of things are out of the question.
Last in the group was RAdim who is a PR man for Pilsener Urquell, Coca Cola and several other high profile clients. He was smiling, quiet and kindly accompanied us to the subway since Jakub had had three beers to every one of mine and had enjoyed tequila shots with every one at the table while I had only one and did not even want that as I have been off tequila and liquor in general.
Had breakfast with Hana again and she modeled the dress she had bought for the wedding--a black and white stripe that falls from a high neckband and has a belt low on the waist. Craig and Theo, you will not be surprised to learn that it came from H & M.
Best wishes to all and love to some--you know who you are!
Lowell
Taize II
Friday I got up to the alarm from Jim's borrowed watch as Duncan and I had ordered a taxi for 5:30 with the kind help of the ladies in El Abiodh. The taxi driver was tuned to a radio station which played all American music except for an interesting rendition of Country Roads in French.
We had to try three times to get the fast train to Paris to be at the embassy by 9 a.m. but were successful at last. The embassy was very easy to find and the workers helpful and efficient. A few hours later, Dunc had an emergency passport and we had 2 and a half hours before our return train. We lunched in the Tuilleries gardens in green chairs at the fountain, walked along the left bank of the Seine and walked halfqway across a pedestrain bridge, and climbed the Arc de Triomphe. Back to Taize in time for dinner and to be greeted by three of the other St. Paul's boys who said it seemed like we had been gone for days instead of hours.
On the train I read Evanly Choirs by Rhys Bowen who described the local pub as a "friendly looking" Red Dragon. Take note, Lee.
Fr. Wolfgang's last pearls of wisdom included:
For love, you cannot say: first I get strong, then I will love...
Democracy is like a ride on a donkey. He said this remark had been misunderstood earlier. He elaborated and said democracy is not always a smoothe ride but that it is the best way to get where you are going dependably.
He also went on to say that Christians have "not yet arrived," which I held in contrast to Thich Nhat Hahn's mantra: I have arrived. I tend to think that Baptism is our arrival but of course that there is journey throughout the rest of our lives, perhaps to get back to the point of baptism!
Was interested to note that in El Abiodh, chocolate is labeled: Namaste Chocolate. It seems wonderful to honor and pay homage to such a marvelous food.
In our last afternoon small group we discussed fair trade as a way to put faith into practice.
But the highlight was chunky Sr. Maria Katerina breaking into a torchy rendition of I Don't Know How to tell Him from Jesus Christ Superstar.
There was a full arc rainbow as we went into our last church service. A couple with a sheepskin invited me to sit on it with them. I did for a bit just to see what it felt like then moved back to my hole in the corner where the sound of Taize music and silence could envelope me. My wish is that all of the St. Paul's pilgrims were enveloped and that none of us will ever entirely emerge from that moment.
Amen.
Lowell
We had to try three times to get the fast train to Paris to be at the embassy by 9 a.m. but were successful at last. The embassy was very easy to find and the workers helpful and efficient. A few hours later, Dunc had an emergency passport and we had 2 and a half hours before our return train. We lunched in the Tuilleries gardens in green chairs at the fountain, walked along the left bank of the Seine and walked halfqway across a pedestrain bridge, and climbed the Arc de Triomphe. Back to Taize in time for dinner and to be greeted by three of the other St. Paul's boys who said it seemed like we had been gone for days instead of hours.
On the train I read Evanly Choirs by Rhys Bowen who described the local pub as a "friendly looking" Red Dragon. Take note, Lee.
Fr. Wolfgang's last pearls of wisdom included:
For love, you cannot say: first I get strong, then I will love...
Democracy is like a ride on a donkey. He said this remark had been misunderstood earlier. He elaborated and said democracy is not always a smoothe ride but that it is the best way to get where you are going dependably.
He also went on to say that Christians have "not yet arrived," which I held in contrast to Thich Nhat Hahn's mantra: I have arrived. I tend to think that Baptism is our arrival but of course that there is journey throughout the rest of our lives, perhaps to get back to the point of baptism!
Was interested to note that in El Abiodh, chocolate is labeled: Namaste Chocolate. It seems wonderful to honor and pay homage to such a marvelous food.
In our last afternoon small group we discussed fair trade as a way to put faith into practice.
But the highlight was chunky Sr. Maria Katerina breaking into a torchy rendition of I Don't Know How to tell Him from Jesus Christ Superstar.
There was a full arc rainbow as we went into our last church service. A couple with a sheepskin invited me to sit on it with them. I did for a bit just to see what it felt like then moved back to my hole in the corner where the sound of Taize music and silence could envelope me. My wish is that all of the St. Paul's pilgrims were enveloped and that none of us will ever entirely emerge from that moment.
Amen.
Lowell
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
La Poste IV/Ceska Posta I
Friends,
Took short walks Monday night with Daphne to get the baguette for dinner and with ANneAlexis to get Francois's newspaper. As usual her meal was fabulous--oranges follewed by a stew of lentils, carrots and sauages, a mixed green and avocado salad, baguette and a Pyranees bread that she makes, cheese plate, and an anise flavored Pyranees cake (she served it to you too Shannon) with bottled cherreis which are also eaten with the cheese. She servedtwo traditional mustards--one dijon-ish and one very vinegar-ish.
Tuesday morning I arranged my ticket to Prague where Iarrived this mornig after taking a luxurious Thalys train to Cologne and then sharing a sleeper with a young Korean who works in Germany and misses his family dreadfully and a young Frenchman who said goodbye to his girlfreind to take a carpentry job near Prague. There was also a couple on the lower berths who were VERY anxious about the presence of strangers in their sleeping quarters and would not talk to us but only to each other in whispers.
The Montparnasse tower was directly across from the train station so I used my free ticket, thanks, Greg, to ascend. It is the tallest building in Paris and has an elevator so smoothe that I had no sense of motion. Two floors per second. Not as exotic a view as that from the Eiffel tower, though it contains the same components. There is just something about having the wind on your face when you are taking in a view.
I went to the doll museum or Musee de las Poupees on high recommencdation from Anne Alexis and her girls. The Skipper on a skateboard in the temporary Barbie exhibit is just like one you had, Theo. Perhaps it is one of the dolls you said I really bought for myself but addressed to you!
According to the exhibit Barbie had over 100 professions. My favorites were the pregnant Barbie, the Barbie just delivered fo twins, Barbie shampooing an incredibly curly poodle. Best of all were Barbie's Mom and Dad who had come over to baby sit the twins while (apparently single mom) Barbie had a date. She was preparing for it in a purple see through negligee and garter top stockings!
There were tons of really fine dolls from about 400 years ago forward and just the sort of big wooden dollhouses with about l940s looking furnishings that I really really love. I pored over the paper dolls in the boutique and then with unaccustomed maturity decided to buy nothing.
There was a genuine accordion busker on the metro. Parisians hate them but I looked aloof and secretly enjoyed it very much.
Lunch was a bit of a risk at a Tabac--sort of the European urban convenience store. I had a wonderful salad with tomatoes and boiled eggs and rounds of baguette topped with chevre over the greens. For dessert I got an ice cream and lolled on the pavement in front of the Pompidou Center with dozens of other tourists. We watched an Asian man sing Let It Be and a juggler. When I moved on it was to watch a man make combination collage and pastel postcard sized "works." An idea for the gallery, Libba!
Then I circled the fountain there which is a pool filled with figures that are either all mechanical ribs of metal and cogs and springs and such or are rounded acrylic abstractions of colorful clownlike figures.
It is difficult to believe I wasted a monment's anxiety on where I was to go. In spite of the machine gun armed camo clad soldiers patrolling the train stations, the fact is, I love to be on my own in a station, feeling all smug and confident when I can figure out what to do and where to go and feeling a little on the edge when I can't.
Anne Alexis had sent me a picnic for the train--a sandwich of thin sliced ham, soft cheese, and lettuce on leftover homemade pizza--what a great idea, and an orange and some of the leftover anise cake. Luxury.
When we entered Belgium the houses suddenly became red brick instead of cream stucco and there was more variety in roof tile color. In Brussels I saw a huge building topped with a golden dome that reminds me of the cap on raspberry liquer. I loved suddenly seeing all the signs in Dutch too with its charming double vowels and -ens and -kers and such. There was a tall narrow very dark Gothic church with an onion dome atop a pointed spire. The dome had porthole style windows in it, making me feel it was preparing to submerge at the command of Captain Nemo.
The train station in Liege is made of high metal arches that curve a bit so you feel you are riding through the skeleton of a giant whale. And as we pulled out of Aachen a blue hot air balloon ascended over a very narrow dark Gothic church.
At the station in Cologne I encountered a huge group of boy scouts including a few girls, a helpful baggage man who directed me to the correct platform in what seemed almost like native english though, of course, he said he only speaks a little bit, and a friendly man who offered me an apple.
It was great to return to dear familiar, if somewhat seedy, sights and sounds of Prague--the easy subqway system, the bus to farkan that I got on automatically though Icould not remember its number, Pany Hana greeting me at the garden gate and returning me to the usual downstairs room that we have had so often before (Jim, Craig, Shannon), and my usual internet cafe which now has a new entrance. And there is a TGI FRiday's here at Andel. Hm. Too much moderninzing and Americanizing.
Off to eat and read a book.
Ahoj,
Lowell
Took short walks Monday night with Daphne to get the baguette for dinner and with ANneAlexis to get Francois's newspaper. As usual her meal was fabulous--oranges follewed by a stew of lentils, carrots and sauages, a mixed green and avocado salad, baguette and a Pyranees bread that she makes, cheese plate, and an anise flavored Pyranees cake (she served it to you too Shannon) with bottled cherreis which are also eaten with the cheese. She servedtwo traditional mustards--one dijon-ish and one very vinegar-ish.
Tuesday morning I arranged my ticket to Prague where Iarrived this mornig after taking a luxurious Thalys train to Cologne and then sharing a sleeper with a young Korean who works in Germany and misses his family dreadfully and a young Frenchman who said goodbye to his girlfreind to take a carpentry job near Prague. There was also a couple on the lower berths who were VERY anxious about the presence of strangers in their sleeping quarters and would not talk to us but only to each other in whispers.
The Montparnasse tower was directly across from the train station so I used my free ticket, thanks, Greg, to ascend. It is the tallest building in Paris and has an elevator so smoothe that I had no sense of motion. Two floors per second. Not as exotic a view as that from the Eiffel tower, though it contains the same components. There is just something about having the wind on your face when you are taking in a view.
I went to the doll museum or Musee de las Poupees on high recommencdation from Anne Alexis and her girls. The Skipper on a skateboard in the temporary Barbie exhibit is just like one you had, Theo. Perhaps it is one of the dolls you said I really bought for myself but addressed to you!
According to the exhibit Barbie had over 100 professions. My favorites were the pregnant Barbie, the Barbie just delivered fo twins, Barbie shampooing an incredibly curly poodle. Best of all were Barbie's Mom and Dad who had come over to baby sit the twins while (apparently single mom) Barbie had a date. She was preparing for it in a purple see through negligee and garter top stockings!
There were tons of really fine dolls from about 400 years ago forward and just the sort of big wooden dollhouses with about l940s looking furnishings that I really really love. I pored over the paper dolls in the boutique and then with unaccustomed maturity decided to buy nothing.
There was a genuine accordion busker on the metro. Parisians hate them but I looked aloof and secretly enjoyed it very much.
Lunch was a bit of a risk at a Tabac--sort of the European urban convenience store. I had a wonderful salad with tomatoes and boiled eggs and rounds of baguette topped with chevre over the greens. For dessert I got an ice cream and lolled on the pavement in front of the Pompidou Center with dozens of other tourists. We watched an Asian man sing Let It Be and a juggler. When I moved on it was to watch a man make combination collage and pastel postcard sized "works." An idea for the gallery, Libba!
Then I circled the fountain there which is a pool filled with figures that are either all mechanical ribs of metal and cogs and springs and such or are rounded acrylic abstractions of colorful clownlike figures.
It is difficult to believe I wasted a monment's anxiety on where I was to go. In spite of the machine gun armed camo clad soldiers patrolling the train stations, the fact is, I love to be on my own in a station, feeling all smug and confident when I can figure out what to do and where to go and feeling a little on the edge when I can't.
Anne Alexis had sent me a picnic for the train--a sandwich of thin sliced ham, soft cheese, and lettuce on leftover homemade pizza--what a great idea, and an orange and some of the leftover anise cake. Luxury.
When we entered Belgium the houses suddenly became red brick instead of cream stucco and there was more variety in roof tile color. In Brussels I saw a huge building topped with a golden dome that reminds me of the cap on raspberry liquer. I loved suddenly seeing all the signs in Dutch too with its charming double vowels and -ens and -kers and such. There was a tall narrow very dark Gothic church with an onion dome atop a pointed spire. The dome had porthole style windows in it, making me feel it was preparing to submerge at the command of Captain Nemo.
The train station in Liege is made of high metal arches that curve a bit so you feel you are riding through the skeleton of a giant whale. And as we pulled out of Aachen a blue hot air balloon ascended over a very narrow dark Gothic church.
At the station in Cologne I encountered a huge group of boy scouts including a few girls, a helpful baggage man who directed me to the correct platform in what seemed almost like native english though, of course, he said he only speaks a little bit, and a friendly man who offered me an apple.
It was great to return to dear familiar, if somewhat seedy, sights and sounds of Prague--the easy subqway system, the bus to farkan that I got on automatically though Icould not remember its number, Pany Hana greeting me at the garden gate and returning me to the usual downstairs room that we have had so often before (Jim, Craig, Shannon), and my usual internet cafe which now has a new entrance. And there is a TGI FRiday's here at Andel. Hm. Too much moderninzing and Americanizing.
Off to eat and read a book.
Ahoj,
Lowell
La Poste III
This is just a bare beginning of trying to back up to Taize. First, the kids ended up having a good time and good attitudes with lots of frisbee playing and dirty feet and church attendance and living in rainy tents.
On our final night in Paris last week Greg and I had an excellent French meal but I no longer even remember it! Entrecote with pepper sauce, green beans and a rainbow over the Les Halles Forum is what my notes say.
I fell again on the badly bruised knee but did no harm and the blood from the original three week old bruise has finally completely dissipated. I had a black and blue right sock for nearly three weeks.
A German nun in my small group said that non Christians come to Taize to see how Christians act. If so, that is good news. Another group member named Kirsten who is a nonbeliever lost her billfold with all documents and money in the toilet but less than 30 minutes later it was returned to her intact! Rest of my group were a Catholic preist from India, another seeking non believer who says that he is looking for room to rent after hearing about the last woman in this list, two female California Presbyterian pastors, an Episcopal layman from Minnesota, and a German woman who says the church has always been her home.
OUr brother from the community was Fr. Wolfgang who does his own translation from German to English to French. HE is a native German speaker and is hilarious in English but really had them in the aisles in GErman. The French speakers did not laugh. OUr first night was so windy that we feared that our tents would be lifted and left in Oz but we survived that storm too. Saw a young boy on a black and yellow unicycle next morning.
Deep thoughts from first day included:
Every man who opens the womb of a woman is holy.
Sometimes people bring love to us but it is hard to bear because of our woulnds, history, and such.
Love**it is history. It is said. You can't put it back. In India all people have religion
Without religion how could they think? That was from Indian FR. Josef.
SEcond day
Presby pastor Susan was at Plum village last year in July but did not see or learn anything of the longevity stick exercises which I am now practicing and teaching. Probably because she was on the breakfast preparation family and we practiced at 7 am.
Ecclesiastes says unhappy is the man who falls and has no one to help him up. Fr. Wolfgang says when two sleep together one can keep the other warm. I love his Biblical interpretations!
Who has seen About A Boy with Hugh Grant? Everyone says I must see it in association with our study of interdependence. Every morning Fr. Wolfgang talks and in the afternoon the small groups meet to explore and respond. Sr. Maria Katerina is unsteady in her English and always calls God She. SHe want I should be happy. Right on, Sister.
Kirsten from my group told me about and showed me Globoli which are tiny pills that are part of German homeopathic medicine. She says they are sugar coated dilutions of chemicals that are supposed to work on your psyche more than your body.
The two lady Presbyterian ministers and I became good freinds sharing church employmetn horror stories. Amy finished and emailed her master's thesis while we were there so we all celebrated with some very fine chocolate at breakfast furnished by Ty who is an official of the diocese of Rhode Island and a freind from past Taize visits. HE was in Laura Holladay's small group.
My job was washing dishes under the supervision of Lucianna from Argentina in El Abiodh, the center where the sisters take in guests, operate an infirmary, cook for the staff, and generally provide help and hospitality. The staffers let me taste all sorts of goodies that had been prepared for the staff and returned uneaten--ham and cheese quiche, fish pie, sausages fo various sorts, and best of all a big handful offresh cucumbers, lettuce and tomatoes! Lu supervised us in the use of long handled broooms and squeegees tomop the floors.
There will be more of Taize in another post but now I must try to recapture the last 36 hours before it vanishes from my sieve-head.
Love, Lowell
On our final night in Paris last week Greg and I had an excellent French meal but I no longer even remember it! Entrecote with pepper sauce, green beans and a rainbow over the Les Halles Forum is what my notes say.
I fell again on the badly bruised knee but did no harm and the blood from the original three week old bruise has finally completely dissipated. I had a black and blue right sock for nearly three weeks.
A German nun in my small group said that non Christians come to Taize to see how Christians act. If so, that is good news. Another group member named Kirsten who is a nonbeliever lost her billfold with all documents and money in the toilet but less than 30 minutes later it was returned to her intact! Rest of my group were a Catholic preist from India, another seeking non believer who says that he is looking for room to rent after hearing about the last woman in this list, two female California Presbyterian pastors, an Episcopal layman from Minnesota, and a German woman who says the church has always been her home.
OUr brother from the community was Fr. Wolfgang who does his own translation from German to English to French. HE is a native German speaker and is hilarious in English but really had them in the aisles in GErman. The French speakers did not laugh. OUr first night was so windy that we feared that our tents would be lifted and left in Oz but we survived that storm too. Saw a young boy on a black and yellow unicycle next morning.
Deep thoughts from first day included:
Every man who opens the womb of a woman is holy.
Sometimes people bring love to us but it is hard to bear because of our woulnds, history, and such.
Love**it is history. It is said. You can't put it back. In India all people have religion
Without religion how could they think? That was from Indian FR. Josef.
SEcond day
Presby pastor Susan was at Plum village last year in July but did not see or learn anything of the longevity stick exercises which I am now practicing and teaching. Probably because she was on the breakfast preparation family and we practiced at 7 am.
Ecclesiastes says unhappy is the man who falls and has no one to help him up. Fr. Wolfgang says when two sleep together one can keep the other warm. I love his Biblical interpretations!
Who has seen About A Boy with Hugh Grant? Everyone says I must see it in association with our study of interdependence. Every morning Fr. Wolfgang talks and in the afternoon the small groups meet to explore and respond. Sr. Maria Katerina is unsteady in her English and always calls God She. SHe want I should be happy. Right on, Sister.
Kirsten from my group told me about and showed me Globoli which are tiny pills that are part of German homeopathic medicine. She says they are sugar coated dilutions of chemicals that are supposed to work on your psyche more than your body.
The two lady Presbyterian ministers and I became good freinds sharing church employmetn horror stories. Amy finished and emailed her master's thesis while we were there so we all celebrated with some very fine chocolate at breakfast furnished by Ty who is an official of the diocese of Rhode Island and a freind from past Taize visits. HE was in Laura Holladay's small group.
My job was washing dishes under the supervision of Lucianna from Argentina in El Abiodh, the center where the sisters take in guests, operate an infirmary, cook for the staff, and generally provide help and hospitality. The staffers let me taste all sorts of goodies that had been prepared for the staff and returned uneaten--ham and cheese quiche, fish pie, sausages fo various sorts, and best of all a big handful offresh cucumbers, lettuce and tomatoes! Lu supervised us in the use of long handled broooms and squeegees tomop the floors.
There will be more of Taize in another post but now I must try to recapture the last 36 hours before it vanishes from my sieve-head.
Love, Lowell
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
La Poste II
Dears,
There was no internet at Taize and I am so far behind
that I will have to come back to that part later.
AT Anne Alexis for tonight only and must make phone
calls for next home as Radek is in the hospital in
Brno and I can't stay with his family as expected
until at least the weekend. Am out of Czech phone
credit so will have to be creative in my arrangements.
Said goodbye to the St. Paul's group at 8*30 this
morning as they left the hostel to brave the rain for
the Metro ride with luggage during rush hour to the
bus which took them to the airport. Greg or Jim, tell
Laura that Anne Alexis and her girls were thrilled to
get the American magazines.
I sat in St. Eustache while they were tunikng the
organ this morning to get my bearings, then set out
for the Paris Opera House. The auditorium was closed
for a rehearsal but the ticket was free so I cannot
complain.
Ditto on the Paris Story which was a 45 minute film on
the history of Paris. I learned a few things and got
a few ideas for sights to see, but my favorite part
was the closing lines. I am a woman, take time to
love me.
Got disoriented finding way to Pompidou Center so
teamed up with some London schoolteachers on a day
trip for teacher education. We ended up following a
Chines man to the museum and felt a bit like a
children's book or a situation comedy where people
keep joining the party.
I adored everything about the Pompidou from the
picnickers on the pavment slanting down to it to the
primary colored architectural elements that outline
the exterior escalators in transparent plastic tubes
to the actual art itself. There was even a balcony
with leather armchairs overlooking the street fro
those weary of foot.
Saw losts of school children drawing a grotesque
papier mache bride sculpture. My favorites were a
huge blanket made of bottle caps and aluminum wrappes
from around wine corks and a raffia airplane shaped a
bit like a fish. It was studded with scissors and
knives and had fan*propellors blowing white silk
ribbon jet streams.
Went in a Dubuffedt cave of solid white with thick
back demarkations of every topographical change. Alas
the eye can only take so much of the feast of
BRancusi, Mondrian, Chagall, Kupka, DuChamp, Calder,
Miro, and Picasso before the brain fries. I am sure
there are many other treasures but I couldn't even
give the bookstore postcards a proper look!
I went to Drogerie which is my favorite bead and yarn
shop but there were too many choices so I left with no
thing but ideas.
Lovely French gentlemen carried my bag up the metro
steps and I saw an elderly couple walking like royalty
with their hands clasped behind their backs.
Lunch was gorgeous salad of greens, colored peppers,
tomatoes, lardon, and a poached egg with the first
croutons I have ever liked.
Francois and Zoe are back from their bike ride and my
laundry is through whirling so must bid you adieu and
hope hope hope for mail from you and for time to write
about Taize soon.
Lowell
There was no internet at Taize and I am so far behind
that I will have to come back to that part later.
AT Anne Alexis for tonight only and must make phone
calls for next home as Radek is in the hospital in
Brno and I can't stay with his family as expected
until at least the weekend. Am out of Czech phone
credit so will have to be creative in my arrangements.
Said goodbye to the St. Paul's group at 8*30 this
morning as they left the hostel to brave the rain for
the Metro ride with luggage during rush hour to the
bus which took them to the airport. Greg or Jim, tell
Laura that Anne Alexis and her girls were thrilled to
get the American magazines.
I sat in St. Eustache while they were tunikng the
organ this morning to get my bearings, then set out
for the Paris Opera House. The auditorium was closed
for a rehearsal but the ticket was free so I cannot
complain.
Ditto on the Paris Story which was a 45 minute film on
the history of Paris. I learned a few things and got
a few ideas for sights to see, but my favorite part
was the closing lines. I am a woman, take time to
love me.
Got disoriented finding way to Pompidou Center so
teamed up with some London schoolteachers on a day
trip for teacher education. We ended up following a
Chines man to the museum and felt a bit like a
children's book or a situation comedy where people
keep joining the party.
I adored everything about the Pompidou from the
picnickers on the pavment slanting down to it to the
primary colored architectural elements that outline
the exterior escalators in transparent plastic tubes
to the actual art itself. There was even a balcony
with leather armchairs overlooking the street fro
those weary of foot.
Saw losts of school children drawing a grotesque
papier mache bride sculpture. My favorites were a
huge blanket made of bottle caps and aluminum wrappes
from around wine corks and a raffia airplane shaped a
bit like a fish. It was studded with scissors and
knives and had fan*propellors blowing white silk
ribbon jet streams.
Went in a Dubuffedt cave of solid white with thick
back demarkations of every topographical change. Alas
the eye can only take so much of the feast of
BRancusi, Mondrian, Chagall, Kupka, DuChamp, Calder,
Miro, and Picasso before the brain fries. I am sure
there are many other treasures but I couldn't even
give the bookstore postcards a proper look!
I went to Drogerie which is my favorite bead and yarn
shop but there were too many choices so I left with no
thing but ideas.
Lovely French gentlemen carried my bag up the metro
steps and I saw an elderly couple walking like royalty
with their hands clasped behind their backs.
Lunch was gorgeous salad of greens, colored peppers,
tomatoes, lardon, and a poached egg with the first
croutons I have ever liked.
Francois and Zoe are back from their bike ride and my
laundry is through whirling so must bid you adieu and
hope hope hope for mail from you and for time to write
about Taize soon.
Lowell
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