just maryse

T is for ...

Talmont-sur-Gironde

Talmont is a tiny village (population 83 give or take) that juts out into the estuary of the Gironde.  it's about 10 miles from my parent's house and it's a place i insist on visiting everytime i go home.

i've already shown you the hollyhocks. 

my favorite thing to do is walk along these narrow alleyways and paths, wondering what life might have been like here centuries ago. 

for most visitors, though the highlight is this 11th century romanesque style church, Sainte Radegonde. 

and its tiny cemetery. 

both of which overlook the gironde and are protected from the tides by these centuries old fortifications.

i really love this place. 

 

S is for

Sunflowers

one of my favorite flowers.

they're the radio city music hall rockettes of the flower world, the syncronized swimmers of nature, following the sun as it cruises from east to west across the sky.

i love their big giant heads and the fact that they can grow to be taller than i am.

hearty and easy to grow, they provide beauty and nourishment. 

and they make me smile.

R is for ...

(LA) ROCHELLE

every time i go and visit my family, i have to make a stop at La Rochelle.  it's always crowded when i go, and finding parking is ridiculous, but i do enjoy walking around the old harbor and it's surrounding areas.  and what's not to love about a city whose history includes pirates!  arrggghhh!

Q is for

QUAY

so i've been screwing around with this post for over a week now.  i had "q" down weeks before that, but i haven't been able to write anything that doesn't sound forced and stupidly encyclopedic to accompany these photographs.

english was never my best subject in school, but that just means that i got A-/B+ instead of A's. my writing is utilitarian, grammatically ok, and just perfect for writing up lab reports, work memos, and scientific papers.    a few years back, i took a creative nonfiction writing class at grub street and didn't make a total fool out of myself -- a very brave thing for me.  since starting this blog, however, i realize that my writing compared to others really just sucks.  like there's some sort of funnel between my wordless thoughts and the part of my brain that puts those thoughts into words through my fingers onto the computer screen.  i'm an excellent and very fast typist so it's clearly that part between my emotional thoughts/feelings and forming words based on those thoughts that is all muddled.

of course none of this has anything to do with my post.  or these pictures. 

see, when i try to get back to this post, i've got "nothing."

even this picture is all out of focus.  kind of like my brain.  by the way, this is a bouquiniste's (secondhand bookseller's) stall. 

they sell old magazines, and newspapers, paintings and prints, photos, gentlemen's publications (cover the children's eyes!).  great old stuff from as early as the turn of the last century if you're willing to take the time to browse.  i find them to be a little sad, and am amazed that these guys actually manage to make a living especially since most have resisted filling up their space with plastic eiffel towers and cheap t-shirts.

P is for ...

PIANO LESSONS
(and you thought i was going to say Paris)

when i was a little girl, my mother had me take piano lessons. at first i was excited.  my first teacher was this young, right out of music school, crunchy granola type who wore birkenstocks, didn't shave her legs and smelled, i would later recognize, of patchouli.  it was 1970.  i was 7.  i didn't know any better.  my excitement wained when instead of having me play contemporary tunes that i heard in movies or on television, she had me playing bela bartok. 

my next teacher was the pretty young music teacher at my brother's elementary school.  the music choices were better, but i hated practicing for 30 minutes a day, and she was so nice that she didn't seem to mind that  that musically i had no talent what so ever.  my last teacher was probably 100 years old.  she had taught at the new england conservatory and was now retired, crippled by arthritis, and needed help getting up the stairs into our living room.  when she drove up to our house in her 25 foot (it seemed) oldsmobile, you couldn't even see her head above the steering wheel.  just her little crooked hands. 

my mother finally let me quit after 7 years of torture;  torture for me, and the rest of the family that had to listen to my pounding several days a week.  she said i'd always regret quitting.  but honestly, i never have.  my old piano still sits at my parents house, unplayed.  kind of sad really.  for the piano.

a couple of years ago, my inlaws gave j and i an old piano.  no one else wanted it and we had room for it.  plus i think it's a beautiful piece of furniture. the cats like to play it.

O is for ....

THE OPERA

the day we visited the Opera Garnier (not to be confused with the modern, more controversial Opera Bastille) was a hot one, and we spent several minutes sitting on the cool marble steps inside.  unfortunately the only picture i got of the inside was that of the mask above.

a week later we visited the Musee D'Orsay where they had an exhibit on the design of the neighborhood and architecture of the opera, including a cross-sectional model of the building, and a model of the stage showing the behind the scenes pulley system.  i apologize about the quality of the pictures.  it was hard to take pictures without flash.

N is for ....

NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL

i'll let you read about notre dame, because everytime i go, i'm rendered speachless speechless (and totally freakin' unable to spell).  i only wish my photos could convey the awesomeness that is this architectural marvel.

M is for ....

old minis

old mini parked in front of a new mini

(oops! not a mini)

someone else's mini

my mini

L is for ....

LA TREMBLADE....

located in the departement of Charente-Maritime, La Tremblade is a small town situated on the banks of the Seudre, an estuary of the Atlantic.  my fantasy of living in a small town was feuled by summers spent hanging out with my cousins.  oyster farming along with tourism is the primary industry of the region.

K is for ...

KINDER?!!!

 

SURPRISE!!!!! (pronounced -- surPREEZ)

featuring Bob L'Eponge (aka SpongeBob)

mmmm yummy chocolate, in the form of an egg ... which is available all year long, not just at easter

and when cracked open ...

hides A SURPRISE!

there's also Kinder Chocolat (Kinder Not-So-Much-A-Surprise).

all of the chocolatey goodness, without the toy.   in a pinch, it'll do.