Prologue : Lockout / open season

Woke up at 1am to see a text from Becca about getting locked out of the house. This was from two hours previous. I tiptoed quietly-ish down the ladder and secured myself in the bathroom, where I hushedly spoke with her, across the Atlantic on top of a mountain, on speaker about the ordeal, and the eventual success in breaking in through one of our new windows that had apparently not been fully secured.

Then I went back to bed and read Red Rising for three hours before falling back to slumber briefly.

scrambled eggs, chopped red potatoes, cereal baguettes, avocado, tomato, and chèvre cheese on plate

Later

Lanessa again made breakfast, after purchasing allumettes (matches) from the market to light the stove. She made scrambled eggs, chopped red potatoes (chopped with a dull knife), cereal baguettes, avocado, tomato, and chèvre cheese. An espresso to accompany, and we spoke of Phillippe Gaulier and then my children and the role of food and eating philosophies in parenting and life.

Base de Loisirs d’Etampes (“Leisure Base of Etampes”)

We meandered through the cobblestone streets. I tried not to stop and admire every door, window, and pair of shutters that adorn every facade. Too many, so many styles and colors, yet most have the Old World feel that feels both comfortable and exotic. My 14-year old daughter would love. Also, Lanessa’s shadow dancing on the ancient walls as the sun began its descent was marvelous.

One interesting thing I learned is that most dwellings don’t have driers. Many, or most, have washing machines, but no driers. Laundry is hung out on balconies, railings, or indoors. I’m sure there’s other parts where they’re more in vogue or use. It’s so interesting, how there’s things you accept as being important and necessary within your culture, or strata of culture - such as driers - that simply aren’t a part of modern life in different cultures or parts of the world.

Étampes is a commune of about 26,000 and is considered a satellite city of Paris. About 30 miles out. There’s also a lot of birds swooping down to nest and roost and play on the taller buildings, especially the 12th century church Notre-Dame du Fort, which has a fairytale-lovely Romanesque tower and spire.

Lanessa in the forest : a favorite sight for a lifetime.

We walked along some canals and streams which led to a picturesque little lake with a wooded series of strolls and a recreation area, Base de loisirs d’Etampes, that appears to be a very fun place to bring kids during the summer.

Also, found a little area wiggling off from the tributary leading to the lake that reminded me of Louisiana and its drooping, gothic riverscapes with water submerging root systems and marching its way up to landforms with little to no banks. I made Lanessa double back a few times so I could shoot her in the sunlight waltzing through the yellow leaves.

Lending library "Lire sur Li'ile" at Base de Loisirs d’Etampes

I found an old book for my oldest son at a lending library that I think he’ll enjoy. It’s a hardcover and in French, but the important thing is that the cover and inside are filled with vintage illustrations I think he’ll dig.

Vue Panoramique

We kept on walking past the other side of Gare d’Etampes up stairs, up an incline, and eventually to a beautiful grassy overlook of the town. We sat and spoke of many things, some of which I remember and some of which I will someday imagine I remember.

Back home for pasta, bread, and lots of talking about all sorts of things.
A good fine French Sunday.

A lovely place for thoughts and contemplation overlooking Etampes.

P.S.

I did go to bed, after reading the forward to a Chekhov short story collection I’m reading.

“The artist observes, selects, guesses, and synthesizes…You are right to demand that an author take conscious stock of what he is doing, but you are confusing two concepts: answering the questions and formulating them correctly. Only the latter is required of an author.
-Anton Chekhov
More posts below about France

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