Are they crazy?

We are about to start on one of the most exciting projects in our young marriage. We bought the apartment right above us and are planning to "duplex" it. We expect the project to take somewhere over a year and involve considerable disruption and cost. Those of you who remember my last apartment project, which resulted in my living in a "tent" in the apartment, may be asking, "is he crazy?". Well, that remains to be seen. But remember, Christina was only an observer that time. Now she's a co-owner and co-manager. She is confident that that will make a difference.

Because this will be such a big part of our day to day life for the next year, we decided to document the events in real time. We will be providing weekly updates and maintain a blog with pictures (maybe even videos). The project officially starts next week with our first design meeting with our architects - Joe and Mike Constantin. We are anxious to get feedback on our number one issue - where can the stairs reasonably be placed. That's the most important and critical issue. It controls everything else. We have until the closing on the purchase in late June to finish the planning so we can begin construction.

Stay posted.

SHE SAID: OMG, can't believe that we are actually doing this! When people you know approach you with the comment, " wow, people your age are usually looking to downsize", it gives one pause! So here we are, at an age where we no longer think about having children, but instead, contemplate "giving birth" to a new space that will change how we live.

On Mar 24, 2012, at 10:24 PM, Paul del Balso <pdelbalso@gmail.com> wrote:

Duplex kickoff

10C floor plan

Fwd: Duplex 1 1

Begin forwarded message:

From: Paul del Balso <pdelbalso@gmail.com>
Date: March 25, 2012 1:14:44 PM EDT
To: Paul del Balso <paul@del-balso.com>
Subject: Duplex 1 1

Duplex 1 1

Duplex 1 1

Duplex 1 1

THE "LAST SUPPER"

THE "LAST SUPPER"

 

Our bags are packed and we're ready to go--well, almost!  The weather had recently turned cold and rainy, but Sunday, our last day, was filled with sunshine.    In the early afternoon we left the bags behind and headed out for one last stroll in the city we've come to love so much.  Off to the river for one last look at the "bouquenistes"; one last lick of pistache and amarena gelato; one last stroll across the bridges, past Notre Dame and a last peek at the Ile St. Louis.

 

When the sun shines, people crowd the streets, seeking out the sunny benches in the parks and in the outdoor cafes. I know France is facing a declining population but you would never guess it from the large number of children out for the day with their parents. We walked until we were tired then with bagette in hand, we headed home to make a meal of the leftovers of cheese, pate and various goodies left in our refridgerator.  Thankfully there was still a bottle of wine to help make the meal memorable. 

 

Going home is a bittersweet experience--for us there's always a longing to hurry back!

FedEx in Paris

 
Parisians love new technology and gadgets. They seem to compensate for the limitations of 16th, 17th and 18th century buildings and street with the most advanced technology available. You may have to walk up three flights of stairs to your 600 ft sq two bedroom apartment, but your deliveries will be made by an automated street crane that fits into a parking space and delivers through the window. We have grown used to seeing highly automated buses that tell you where you are and when you will arrive at each stop. They even announce the frequent "manifestations" (usually strikes) that disrupt service  Their street cleaners are a wonder of automation with multiple brushes and water sources.

 

So we were particularly surprised to see the new FedEx delivery vehicle - a bicycle similar to those used by pedicabs in NY. They're great, they fit in between two parked cars (without blocking the street) and don't use any gas (unless the driver has had an unfortunate lunch).

A "Spectacle" en Paris

COMPAGNIE RASPOSO--Un Cirque or 'un Spectacle' under a Tent!

 

Le Chant du Dindon (the song of the turkey!!)

 

In Paris you can often find 'un Espace Cirque' (a tent) in many neighbourhoods for many kinds of performance.  I try to scout out one or two during our visits; it's always hit or miss given that I really can't read the descriptions thoroughly enough.  Sometimes these events turn out to be a 'miss' like the time I dragged Paul, Jory and Scott to a 'horse show' not thinking that we would be in a small arena filled with dust and hay, aggravating Scott's allergies!  Not such a good pick!

 

This Sunday, however, was a different story.  We travelled out to the suburbs to a park where a small tent had been erected for a travelling "Spectacle". It was like going back in time--almost like a vaudeville performance.  The troupe (15 in all, 5 of which were from the same family) did EVERYTHING!  They were the actors, stage hands, writers and crowd control--in the two hour performance. Apart from a 20 min. intermission, EVERYONE worked all of the time.  If they weren't performing some amazing acrobatic feat, they were comedians or mimes or musicians providing the background music. In addition, acting as spotters, or changing the sets frequently engaging with the audience as they changed rigging or reset the ring for the next act.

 

This show had a little bit of everything including a live turkey (of the title), some magic doves and 4 dogs!  The performance followed a story line of sorts--a little like you would see in 'Cirque du Soliel'.  The performances were professional, entertaining and a hit with both the youngest and oldest members of the audience.  The venue, under a small tent, with unassigned bare plank seating--was ,intimate, but challenging for our backs and tooshes.  The first three rows, for the most part were reserved for the young children, the rest of us in stadium seating behind-- somewhat like being in the audience of a little league game!  The performers were often out in the audience, engaging with us, stepping over benches to adjust the sets or moving people back to make room for the next more 'energetic' tumbling displays.

 

As I said, the performance was fantastic--high wire acts, unbelievable contortions, magic and humour all rolled into a theme that kept us entranced; all for the affordable price of 24 Euros. 

 

 

Yom Kippur in Paris

Monday was a beautiful day in Paris. High 60's with bright sunshine.  We decided to spend the afternoon at Place des Vosges, and revisit the neighbourhood where we spent our first year in Paris in the Marais. The parks and streets were crowded with people, especially at Place des Vosges which seems to be a through fare for kids from a nearby school. Our bench in the sun afforded excellent people watching and was a good place to work on the day's crossword puzzle and people. 

Place des Vosges is near the traditional Jewish quarter. It looked like Jews from all over the city had come in to the traditional synagogues for Yom Kippur.  Women and children in their sabbath best along with husbands donning hats and yarmulkes. Their dress was distinctive - from heavy dark clothes and wigs to jeans and sandals.  The park soon began to fill with Jews of every sort on break from their synagogue. It seemed that there were multitudes!  Each group different; from the ultra-orthodox, to the merely orthodox to the highly observant to the barely observant. It must have been like this in the 19th Century.  It seemed a perfect day to gather on the grass and benches for a good gossip and to catch up with one another.   

Crossing the street together

Christina and I do not fight about a lot of issues. That's one of the nicest things about being past the young family days. We don't have a lot of irreconcilable differences about raising children or money. 

One issue that remains a bone of serious contention is crossing the street. Chris is from Canada and has no idea about how to efficiently cross the street. She is forever stopping when the light changes, even if there are no cars moving! Over the years she has become increasingly erratic, stopping and starting like a broken toy. She claims I have traumatized her by heedlessly rushing into oncoming traffic. She gives no credence to my extensive experience and superior instincts. She believes that intersections and traffic lights are sacred. I know they're just advisory. It's like being married to Rudi Guliani (who tried to prosecute jaywalkers).  As a result, we go through a little dance at every crossing. If I, or we, are ever killed crossing the street, you'll know why. Chris stopped us in the middle while trying to go back.

The problem is even worse in Paris because there are many more complex intersections with 5 and 6 roads coming together. In addition, Parisian drivers, especially the omnipresent scooters, motorcycles and bicycles, pay little attention to lights, sidewalks or pedestrians. So, you aren't safe anywhere! 

This could all turn out badly for me! Either I'll be killed crossing the street or Christina will leave me claiming emotional cruelty!  

Rebuttal:  In my own defense, I think this is really a "Venus vs Mars" issue with a little dash of stubbornness (Chris doesn't usually admit to being stubborn!) thrown in--AND it really has NOTHING to do with being from Canada!  You have to picture us -- Paul making a purposeful stride into oncoming traffic while I dig in my heels, and dry with all my might to hold him back!  It would leave you laughing!

Je Parle Beaucoup!

When we first started coming to Paris, I imagined myself speaking the language in no time.  Here we are in our 7th 'rentree' and I still struggle and throw in English or sometimes even German when I just can't think of the right thing to say.  Over the years I've enrolled in various kinds of group languages classes but this year, I'm working with a private tutor, three times a week, for 2 hours each morning.  My mornings with le prof. Isabelle are filled with lots of talk and laughter.  Her goal is to take the 'ugly American' sounds that come from my lips and fashion them into something that resembles the lilting tones of the French!  I sit facing her, looking into a mirror to get the shape of my mouth 'just so' all the while the tape recorder is running so that I can take my lesson home, listen and practise!  I never knew that there were so many different ways to contort my mouth, position my tongue and make sounds in different areas of my throat.  And, by the way, did you know that when Americans speak, our voice register goes from high to low???  Well, here in Paris, one must accentuate the last syllable and end on a high note!  After two hours with plenty of 'parlaying' we go over the vocabulary of the day and she sends me home with piles of homework!  I'm working harder at this then anything I've done in a long time and think I'm making SOME progress.  The proof will be 'in the pudding' when I meet up with my French friend Danielle, who has kindly invited me and another friend to coffee next week--just the girls so that I can practise my French.  Keep your fingers crossed for me.  I'll keep you posted.  

A la prochaine,

C!

Fete dans la rue!

Walking in Paris is always an adventure for us simply because the 'grid' system doesn't exist.  The idea of going around the block thinking that you'll end up on the street you started on gets us in trouble every time.  For a confirmed 'flaneur' (someone who strolls), like me, it can be a problem especially if there's somewhere we have to be.

However, sometimes like last night it leads to something quite wonderful.  Imagine coming upon a lively bunch sitting in front of a shop--in this case it was a custom hat shop--at a table decked with sushi, oysters and copious bottles of wine.  This was the scene which greeted us as we made our detour walking home from dinner at 10:30pm.  You know that this is what I think of as an 'opportunity'!  I just can't resist stopping, and so I asked, "qu'est-ce que c'est?"  Well, it turns out that it was a celebration with guests from Argentina, New York, and Paris and they were delighted to speak with us--we even got a taste of wine!  In the few short minutes we stopped, we discovered that a celebration on a warm night can spill into the street quite easily and strangers walking by can be made to feel welcome.