by Tara Lazar (with Deb Lund) Over the holidays, I caught an NPR broadcast on secular Christmas music. Immediately struck by the rich voices of Perry Como, Judy Garland, and Nat King Cole, I listen…
by Jennifer Arena A year ago last autumn in Chicago during the Architecture Biennial, one exhibit captured my imagination. Situated in the middle of a large room were several dozen waist-high stand…
by Hannah Barnaby Novels were my first love—as a children’s literature graduate student, as an editor, as a bookseller, and then as a writer. I loved long descriptive passages, the rising ten…
I so love Paris! I thought it would be fun to read (and see) about our stay in the City of Light back in 2009. Bienvenue!
Bumper to bumper cars
That’s it. As far as the eye can see, cars sticking bumper to bumper. I am SO happy to not have a car while living in Paris. The Metro is just perfect, thank you. Or my own 2 feet.
I am fascinated with drivers in Paris…it’s amazing how little damage actually occurs as people get from A to Z in as little time, distance, and space as possible.
Some observations about parking in Paris, just in case you want to drive and park while here:
No limit except vertical walls
Motorcycles, scooters, bicycles…pretty much can park anywhere. They are supposed to follow normal driving rules, but motorcycles have a secret lane between the outside 2 driving lanes, and both motorcycles and bicycles will pass stopped vehicles and get in front of them to get away first when the light turns green. Or if there are no pedestrians…
Optional parking on top of cones
Your choice – between or on top of cones.
Space between vehicles is negligible
Bonus points are awarded for vehicles with minimal space between bumpers.
Accidents WILL happen.
Expect some slight scratches or bruises
Clever drivers will gently ease into tiny parking spots, avoiding major warping and scrapes on bumpers and fenders.
And my personal favorite trick for in city driving ~
Always carry duct tape.
It’s true. Duct tape can fix anything.
Despite these captivating photos, drivers in Paris really are amazing. There are few accidents, pedestrians remain unharmed, vehicles stay on the road, and traffic flows in seemingly flawless pathways. Hats off to the competent drivers!
How about you? Where is your favorite destination? How are the drivers? We’d love to hear!
by Dan Moynihan “DON’T THINK. JUST DRAW.” That’s what I’ll tell you in one of my collaborative story-making events. That’s our motto as we set forth to create a wild batch of picture book stories i…
by Tammi Sauer I am a huge fan of Storystorm (formerly known as PiBoIdMo). Many of my books started right here! YOUR ALIEN, my book with Goro Fujita, for example, first appeared on my 2012 PiBoIdMo…
by Josh Funk Yesterday, Tara told us to be mindful and also to daydream. Mindfulness and daydreaming may seem like opposites; pay close attention to the world…and pay attention to only what’s…
The American Library in Paris is offering English- speaking writers of any nationality the opportunity to work in Paris for a month or longer with a Visiting Fellowship. Writers should be working o…
The sweater of a thousand photos joins me as I corral and snuggle our 5 grands!
New beginnings.
January always brings fresh hope and promises of renewed dreams, goals, plans.
View the sweater of a thousand photos.
This wardrobe piece awaits my beck and call all hours of the day and night. Menopause requires layers. And this, my Goodwill find from years past, is perfect. Cold? Snuggle in this button-up baby. Hot? Fling it across the room without any answering complaints. Fold it. Wad it. Wash it. Toss it. Wear it. Love and hate it.
From my viewpoint, the sweater of a thousand photos matches every item of clothing I own. Because I wear it with any and every thing. Coordinating or not.
As evidenced by photos. At least 1,000 of them.
Life in the RV has finally taken its toll. Laundry facilities are stranded across compacted snow and ice trails inside the stick house of our son and his family. Sometimes one forgets to empty the dryer on time. Usually that is ok. But just this once, it was not.
For the sweater of a thousand photos has been damaged. Heated too long and too hot. The yarns melted into permanent wrinkles. Never before static cling haunts attempts at layering. What once was fuzz and softness is now thin and bare. The sweater of a thousand photos, MY sweater, the $2 deal, is nearing the end.
My heart is sad but realizing the futility of wearing holes and wrinkles held together with bits of yarn. It is time to move on. Let it go. Wave a fond farewell, not looking back.
Unless it is in photos.
New beginnings come in different forms. Out with the old, in with the new. Or maybe new-to-me.
The hunt has begun. This year, I resolve to capture the next sweater of a thousand photos. The search will be in reverse order, according to hunting aficionados, but this works well for clothing.