Today of all days, when the sky is grey, humidity hovers, and an updraft lifts the backs of leaves, today when it is supposed to rain, they turn on the fountain in the park.
The fountain is a strange victorian thing. It looks like an enormous tiered cake stand, with water spilling off each tier.
Yesterday was a beautiful day. So was the day before. But did they turn on the fountain? Noooooooo. Today, when any minute it will start to rain, and continue to rain all through the weekend, they turn it on.
Nothing much to say today-- it's laundry day, which means four loads schlepped around the corner to the buanderie where Madame periodically corrects my french. She only cracked a smile after I'd been going there for 6 months. She's great. When I first got there and asked for a billet for the laveuse, she told me the correct word was ticket, and made me say it over again twice, before giving it to me.
Today while waiting for my tickets, I audaciously flirted (silently) with a guy who was waiting to drop off some dry cleaning. Secret smiles, a little eyelash batting and such. I felt very francophone. Perhaps because I wasn't speaking at all.