twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?"

Category: Christmas

bucharestmas

Bucharest went full on this year with the Christmas lights.

Everywhere you turn, too-much-of-good-thing-is-a-good-thing sparkles, flashes, drips and runs along along a wire changing colors. Stars, boxes, balls of strings of lights, angel wings, scissors? maybe they are lollypops? garlands and my absolute favorite, along Aviatorilor for what seems like miles, illuminated umbrella trees.

The Bu's most-loved bookstore's creaky wooden floors, window seats and book-lined stair cases remind me of Powells in Portland (sans the used-book option, sad face) complete with a cozy cafe in the cave serving pages and pages of different kinds of tea in adorable teapots. What the heck took me so long to get to the the extra gezellig Carturesti?

December 30, 2012
12 days of christmas in 7 days in paris

One Eiffel Tower.

Two feet around the very center of Paris.

Three French macaroons at Angelina at Versailles.

Four matching bracelets. Three years ago we bought matching silk-corded bracelets that the four of us wore until they fell off. Peter's was the last to give out, he wore his tiny LOVE amulet for almost three years! I didn't know if the store would still be there, or if they would still have the bracelets. When we found the store and I expressed my relief to the proprietor she said, "We've been here for 25 years." They still have the bracelets too, and we are outfitted for another couple years, or until our next trip to Paris.

Camille discovers the 4th arrondisement.

One of the huge fireplaces at the Chateau de Vincenne, five minutes from where we stayed. Where's Santa?

Six pounds of clementines a day. Stefan discovered the charm of squeezing the peel into a candle flame and now it's like, his job.

Seven nights of gorgeous lights. Also, Beaumarchais fans, squeee!

Eight stops from our hotel to Saint Paul on the number 1 line metro.

Ten trips a day to the bakery for croissants.

Eleven pipers piping.

Twelve drummers pounding in my head–I've had Bronchitis/possibly Pnemonia–I call it Cough Until You Pee or Throw Up. Having a fever every day has given this last couple of weeks an altered feeling, I knew I was sick when I couldn't be bothered to try on these shoes at Comptoires de Cotonnier. I don't recommend being ill. I do recommend Paris at Chirstmastime though, they have zithromax a plenty and you can always order online.

December 25, 2011
over the snow we go, hopefully

"Heads up, winter storm warning," my friend writes me. Why did we book holiday flights through the east coast? When you can fly direct to LA? Because it was going to be so good! I was going to get to visit with my friend Mary for hours. She had offered to take me home so I could take a shower before the flight to San Francisco, she would have made me her newly-invented drink. Washington is expected to get two feet of snow, when one inch of snow shuts them down? Maybe our flight will be delayed or diverted. Mary is wise and realizes she needs to stay put for the snowpocolaspe.

At the airport, the flashing red words in Russian mean our flight has been cancelled. They tell us to come back tomorrow for the same flight, with no explanation. I'm so worried about how we are going to get back to the house, the driver has left, that I don't do the simple math: one plane, twice as many people, and we are now on stand-by. On a plane that may or may not be leaving. The phrase "declared a state of emergency" doesn't sound like a problem that will be solved tomorrow by noon.

A long and expensive cab ride back home, we wheel our four suitcases back in the house.

In the afternoon I decide to take the camera and go for a walk. I need stuff for dinner now, and Moscow is very pretty these days with clear skies and a Neiman-Marcus-Christmas-window-display sprinkle of fresh snow. I walk to Red Square. I had a blast taking pictures. I found a bakery I've been wondering about. I wandered through GUM and bought Stefan some fancy Russian chocolate powder. He's addicted to hot chocolate lately, and we just ran out of the Monbana chocolate powder he's acquired a taste for. We bought it on the way home from Lisbon at the Charles de Gaulle airport.

At Red Square there is some sort of event going on and you have to go around some railings to get in. Some Americans are confused and want to get into Red Square and the police are telling them they can't get in. The Americans are arguing. The police are not telling them they just need to go past the railed-off area. The Russians beat Napolean and the Germans, they are not going to start explaining things to Americans.

I come out on the wrong side of GUM and now that it's dark can't figure out how to get to the street that takes me home. I ask someone where the Novy Arbat is, "It's very far," she tells me. This could mean two blocks, sometimes the Russians are funny about walking, or it could mean I'm going to freeze to death on the far side of the Kremlin. I'm wearing gloves and mittens and my fingers are so cold they hurt. I went in a metro to get oriented and ended up metro-ing home, it's warmer. I thought I was going to one particular stop, but when I came up out of the metro, I was at different one. I have no idea how I ended up there, but I knew where I was, bought a kilo of mandarins and was back home.

Peter and Melissa spent hours on hold with United. The first flight available where we'd have actual seats is the 26th. Or I could go to the airport everyday–$120 round trip taxi ride–and try to fly stand-by, with four bags and two kids. My rescue-workers, Peter and Melissa, got us a flight tomorrow to Charles de Gaulle, a hotel room, and then the next day Paris to San Francisco. "Now we can buy more of that chocolate!" says Stefan.

It's snowing in Moscow, but they won't shut down the airport here because of snow. They closed airports in France due to snow last week, and they are still getting snow, but it looks like the worse of it is over. Right now, I'm cozy in our house, not stuck in some hotel somewhere. I'm going to make crepes for the kids for breakfast. We'll be home for Christmas, eventually.

December 20, 2009
this is christmas

You guys want to do one of these somehow? Portland, Seattle, Niamey, Japan, West Coast, East Coast, ya in? What song do we all know? What we all sing/play? I say anything but Wonderwall. Maybe Rivers of Babylon? Peter and I will sing it in front of St Basils, and you will record yours where you are. Send it to me and I'll iMovie it into something. Something really lame and wonderful. You with me? Do it now and email it to me (or post on facebook.) Merry Christmas!

The chords are here. Go!

ETA: Christmas pix on flickr.

December 24, 2008
good excuse for eating gum drops

After seeing the gingerbread houses at the German Christmas Bazaar I had to make one. It was a three day process, what with the making of the parts and the drying of the royal icing, and then having to make more royal icing because I didn't make enough the first go around. Camille says she wants to learn to make royal icing so she can make a batch to just eat. At decorating time, she would rather watch the American Music Awards, oh well. Stefan and I had a good time decorating it and maybe even a better time eating gum drops.

Our gingerbread houses always look like a cheap Southeast Portland rental inhabited by overly cheery people.

A few years ago we labored over a gorgeous gingerbread house in the back yard at my sister's house, (another year it was beautiful and warm in Northern California at the end of November.) After we finished we went in the house to wash our hands and the dog got up on the picnic table and ate the whole thing.

Now back to my regularly scheduled program of unpacking the studio/office room.

November 25, 2008