U is for UBU

Ubu père :: pa Ubu

alfred jarry's masterful theater of the absurd, mastered by KP. and he was only 16. ah... memories! we saw a performance of this at the comédie française last spring, and it had nothing on WWHS 1995. de par ma chandelle verte!!

T is for tour

une tour :: a tower

tour eiffel

tour montparnasse

shapes, or, opposites attract

or, how to entertain yourselves on the métro...

SQUARE

ROUND!!

S is for SOLDES

SOLDES :: sale!!

the state sponsors two sale periods a year in france, one in january and the other in july (though this year there has been an increase, thanks to wall street's complete disregard for reality). we picked up a black suit for knox at a pretty decent price, and i got a new skirt for 15 euros! not a great score, actually, but it's still cute. by the time they do third markdowns, you can get all kinds of stuff for 70% off, but by that point, it's mostly the dregs. and never in my size.

R is for en retard

en retard :: late

travel plans this holiday season took us through chicago's o'hare, which has now replaced atlanta's hartsfield jackson in our book as the #1 most obnoxious airport in the country. it is to be avoided at all costs, particularly when flying in from europe during winter. sadly, we knew this already thanks to a christmas travel nightmare a few years ago that saw ol' LB break down in tears in the security line... but we'd forgotten, the vivid memory of atlanta's shockingly stupid design and uber-irritating security practices still dominating our "hated airports" top ten.

anyway, o'hare is back on top for now, thanks to the ONE dude working passport control, the only food option - chili's - which nearly put us both into sodium-induced shock, the hours we waited for a flight to philly after ours was cancelled - in vain - and the inane 24-hour news cycles that run non-stop in airports, that have been gloriously absent from our lives for the last year and a half, and which fill me with nasty, violent, humanity-loathing thoughts within minutes.

it wasn't actually ALL o'hare's fault. that genius on the 12/25 detroit flight made us 3 hours late getting out of paris... and then there was the snow, for which, technically, chicago is not to blame. but i still hate that place.

landing in chicago and pulling into the gate. ice on the wing already.

knox has gold status and could have gotten on this plane, but his low-priority, economy-class wife dragged him down the stand-by list. (you can see in the background that they're de-icing another plane - always an unnerving experience for a couple of texans!)

instead of going on to philly, we spent a night in an airport hotel, as did all these other poor saps. the shuttle scene was a total disaster, with people clawing and scratching to get on the one 15-seater that turned up once every 30 minutes or so. watching this unfold was almost as depressing as CNN.

Q is for quartier asiatique, or, knox discovers durian

knox and i regularly head over to the 13th for provisions - fish sauce, rice, tofu, etc. - and have a few favorites spots for vietnamese and thai food in the neighborhood. this is a picture story about one such outing...

now, according to wikipedia, durian is the "king of fruits" in southeast asia, known for gigantic size and "unique" odor. (have you ever been in an asian supermarket and thought, "WHAT is that smell?" it's durian). anthony burgess apparently once noted that eating durian was like having vanilla custard... in the latrine. i wouldn't know because i've never been able to get close enough to taste it.

there's a vietnamese legend about it... something about a poor, wondering mandarin wooing the daughter of a local big shot with its remarkable qualities, but i forget the details.

caution: one must be careful when standing under ripe durain fruit. if it falls on your head, it could be fatal.

this is the durian/black bean dessert knox insisted on ordering at a vietnamese joint in the 13th... (he has a thing for ordering the strangest dish on the menu)

and here is his reaction after the first bite.

lb: "don't say i didn't warn you..."

kp: "i think i like it..."

figures.

kitty duty

knox says this happens daily. he'll be sitting at the kitchen table working, and bob will come in, yapping at him (bob is a very noisy cat). he'll circle knox's legs, hop up on the table, walk across the keyboard, all the while yapping away. eventually knox will give in and stand up. then bob darts off, still yapping. sometimes he just wants water (from the bathroom sink, we have spoiled this cat so), but more often than not, he runs straight to the bedroom, turning to make sure knox is behind him, yap-yap-yapping away, and then stops at the edge of the bed. looks at knox. looks at the bed. looks back at knox. still yapping...

knox says that he sits down and within 15 seconds bob is in this position. wait another 5 minutes from the point at which this shot was taken, and he's sound asleep.

we call it "kitty duty."

knox gets a lot of reading done here, so he's hardly averse to indulging bob. you should see the pile of french philosophy books on his bedside table. if it were me, i'd nap. no doubt about it. i guess that's why i leave for the library every day...

P is for pinot noir

P :: pinot noir

(could also file under "B is for burgundy," which is where all the pinots in france live)

you may recall from "D is for dimanche" that sometimes old kp needs a bit of needling before he gets behind one of my plans, even if, on some level, he knows he'd enjoy it. this was certainly true of the ice skating adventure... and it was no different when some 10 months ago, i started talking about a weekend in burgundy. sometimes i got the "uh-huh... yeah babe, that sounds great," sometimes there was no reaction, and occasionally he'd counter with something like "ooh, i want to go to verdun." and don't get me wrong - i think we should experience the history while we're here, i do - but exploring the site of one of the bloodiest battles of world war I just doesn't say romance like the wine country does. am i wrong? no, i'm not.

you be the judge...

le palais de fontainebleau - originally a royal hunting lodge, king françois I (1494-1547) expanded the site and made it his personal residence. it was also the site of a failed attempt in 1946 to find a solution for the the franco-vietnamese conflict that would end with a cracking defeat for the french in 1954. hô chi minh was here (i wish i knew which room). it's only 55 km outside paris, but because - in typical knox and leslie fashion - we were a wee bit behind schedule, we stopped here for lunch instead of continuing on to dijon.

the grounds behind the palace

the nearby forest of fontainebleau is also supposed to be pretty fab, but the weather kept us from doing much exploring. we sat in a local brasserie instead, warming up with a pot of pinot and a plate of frites. i'm thinking we'll have to get out there again come spring.

the weather was pretty funky all weekend, but we still enjoyed the fall colors...

and all the other cool stuff...

and in the end, all the mist made for some pretty dreamy landscapes.

the bed and breakfast knox found for us was just outside autun and was fabulous. this is the chapel of autun at night.

the hospice of beaune - founded in 1443 by the chancellor of burgundy for the needy

beds in the salle des "pôvres" or the room for the poor - hospital services were only moved into more contemporary facilities in the 1970s (!), and there is still a retirement facility onsite.

i couldn't resist including this one - is he not the cutest thing ever? i guess we're going to have to go to verdun now....

oh yes, and there was plenty of pinot. i think we blew a pretty good chunk of our monthly budget on wine, brought home at least 15 bottles (that we're now storing under our bed), including a special occasion bottle should the employment fairies come knocking on our door. there was a wine co-op in buxy that we visited, unfortunately, at the end of a day of tasting. our palettes were shot, and we were pooped, so we just bought a couple of bottles and somewhat at random. too bad, because we just had one of the whites we picked up there with some thai takeout the other night - we should have bought 10 of them! so good...

O is for orangina

thirsty? i know i am!

N is for north carolina! (and for missing summer)

N was originally meant to be for nutella... but i'm trying to quit. instead, i offer a couple of photos from our weekend in north carolina this summer. we had a wonderful time - ate barbecue, went hiking, watched some old friends get married. we even had a back-waters "we look like city folk, we'll never make it out of here" moment driving through south carolina on our way back to atlanta (so embarrassing - there was a local parked on a motorbike in front of a closed gas station... we asked directions... he spooked us... i'm pretty sure i heard our tires squeal as we burned out of there. so embarrassing, yes, but have you seen deliverance??)

the one patch of blue sky i think we got all weekend

knox takes the camera, undoubtedly inspired by caspar david friedrich

pre-wedding hike

the beginnings of a blue ridge fall?

i want that truck. more importantly, i want the barbecued pork sandwich i was eating when i saw that truck.