Goin' South

We moved to a new destination today...and lots of stuff to talk about.

We woke up at 7:15, took showers, packed and rushed to the train station in Paris. It was FREEZING at the train station because it wasn't enclosed -- it was open. And it was 30 degrees F in Paris. Even though we were in first class, the section our seats we were in was really crowded and dark, so we went upstairs and looked around and thought it was pretty nice up there. We got away with sitting up there! Not in our seats! It was a fast train: 300 km per hour, which is 180 mph. We got to the south of France in 2 1/2 hours.

Frances says, "I almost got blinded by the sun because I was in the seat that had lots of sun in it. I walked to the dining car, which was hard because the train was back and forth so I put my arms out wide to balance myself. Then I didn't feel good so I took a big nap. My mom and dad woke me up right when we were supposed to get off the train so I was super-duper tired."

It's me again, Eleanore. After we got off the train, and after we got out of the taxi (there were no buses running on Sundays, little did we know!), and after Sophie and Gaspere (her son) met us at the apartment to give us a tour and show us how to work all the house keys, we unpacked, settled in, and went for a walk. The town is small. It has a delicious candy shop. It has a few nice cafes...and other things you need in a town, like butcher shops (boucherie) and clothing shops, and pottery shops, and an open market every Wednesday and Saturday (right across the street from us).

Uzes is what I picture being France. And guess what? The Duke still lives (part-time) in the castle a block away. The castle has been "in the family" for 1,000 years.

My mom says, "We made the most of our night, beginning what we hope to be traditions for the next few months and into our life back in Truckee. We ate together, the nucleus of our table being the bouquet of tulips. We read aloud from the ee cummings book we bought after writers' group with Addy and Maia at Book and Bean. It's kind of uncanny how appropriate the poem was, picked randomly, and read first by Eleanore and then by Jeff and dissected by all of us.

Funny note: Jeff is the eternal optimist. We jammed out of our hotel room with one hundred bags of luggage and were met outside by a little tiny van. The first thing Jeff said was, "Bonjour!" All happy and confident. The taxi man had no choice: he got cheery and optimistic too. Then Jeff began shoving all our luggage into the car and slammed the back door on the improbable load. The taxi man was laughing all the way, repeating Jeff's phrase, "Pas de probleme!" So Jeff. Love that guy.

Here's the ee cummings poem... of course, all the punctuation, line indentations intended.

pity this busy monster,manunkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:

your victim(death and life safely beyond)

plays with the bigness of his littleness

--electrons deify one razorblade

into a mountainrange;lenses extend

unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish

returns on its unself.

A world of made

is not a world of born--pity poor flesh

and trees,poor stars and stones,but never this

fine specimen of hypermagical

ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopeless case if--listen:there's a hell

of a good universe next door;lets' go