Paris Parfait

Job losses and missing Picassos

Deep cleansing breaths needed...photo, New Zealand by Marie-Claire Holmes

This has not been a good day in Europe, with more than 10,000 job cuts announced by the planemaker Airbus. At a press conference in Paris, Airbus director Louis Gallois said the firm is "facing huge challenges" and is "not efficient enough." France will be hardest hit with 4,300 job losses. Germany will lose 3,700 jobs, the United Kingdom, 1,600 jobs and Spain, 400 jobs.

Gallois blamed the prolonged weakness of the US dollar - the currency in which its planes are sold - for the restructuring. He told reporters cutbacks were triggered by production delays to the flagship A380 superjumbo project.

Airbus said compulsory redundancies would not be imposed, with about half the job losses coming from temporary workers or sub-contractors. Unions countered that they would fight the cuts. Airbus plans to cut 10,000 of its 57,000 jobs over the next four years. More work will be transferred to the firm's headquarters and main production facility in Toulouse, France. Wings for Airbus planes will be produced at Broughton in the UK, while Germany will handle cabin and fuselage manufacturing.

Airbus said it is considering the future of three of its 16 European plants - in Laupheim and Varel in Germany and Saint-Nazaire, France. The company is seeking additional investors to share production costs at three sites, including Filton in the UK. Airbus will also outsource more work.

The firm's financial difficulties have been worsened by problems building the A380 super-jumbo plane, already two years behind schedule. Delays to the plane, resulting from wiring problems discovered in 2005, are expected to cost the firm 4.8bn euros. Meanwhile, Airbus must pay compensation to airlines for late delivery of the A380. Some carriers have threatened to cancel their orders.

The company also plans to spend 11.6bn euros on building the A350, a mid-sized aircraft expected to compete with Boeing's 787 Dreamliner. While Airbus insists its prospects are good as demand for air travel increases, in 2006 it received fewer orders for new planes than its rival Boeing for the first time since 2000.

Airbus delayed announcement of job cuts earlier this month, following friction among its national partners, as politicians in the four countries lobbied to protect jobs. In recent years, the company's relationship with its parent company, Franco-German defense firm EADS, has been strained by political infighting and frequent management changes. The French government owns a 15% stake in EADS and has differed with other shareholders, including German car maker Daimler Chrysler. Until recently, Airbus had two chief executives, representing German and French shareholders.

Missing Picassos

Meanwhile, much of Paris is atwitter at the theft of two Pablo Picasso paintings with a combined worth of 50m euros. The paintings were stolen Monday night from Picasso's granddaughter's home in the 7th arrondissement.

Police said the paintings taken were a portrait of the Spanish painter's daughter, Maya with Doll and one of his second wife Jacqueline Roque. Maya Picasso was the painter's second child, born in 1935 to Marie-Therese Walter. Police said there was no evidence of a break-in at the home of Diana Widmaier-Picasso. The organised crime squad of the Paris police force is investigating the theft.

Early signs of spring

Walking down the street this afternoon, I noticed this lone lily stuck in a cable cover for EDF, the French electricity authority. Nice to find a little jolt of beauty amidst the concrete jungle.

On Avenue Charles de Gaulle, these trees are not only flowering a month earlier than usual, they're carpeting the sidewalk with falling petals. The blue sign at right denotes a section reserved for les chiens to do their business. Alas, too often dog owners ignore the signs, which is why one has to watch your step, no matter how upscale the neighbourhood!

All that's missing are the cupcakes! These reproduction '50s tins are probably American. When I saw them in the window of our local bricolage, I couldn't resist.

Riotous acts of colour

Subtle buds emerge
riotous blooms of colour
echoed in monk's robes

Bright colours inspire
cheery countenance in a
world tinged sad and grey

Top photo of tiger lilies in my parents' back yard. Photo of monks laughing, Cambodia by Marie-Claire Holmes. Read more "colourful" haiku at One Deep Breath.

Subtle changes

Delicate old lace found in Savannah is draped over a distressed dressing screen with linen panels.

This 19th-century lantern once hung in my friend Gabrielle's hallway. Because it didn't emit enough light, she decided to sell it. As David and I live in a rented Paris apartment, there's no easy way to hang the lantern, so I cut the electrical cords. I added a bird (Christmas ornament) whose tail feathers match the purple crystals. Now the lantern holds a church candle and serves as centerpiece on a library table. Perhaps someday we'll have a house with a hallway suitable for the lantern, in which case I'll have it rewired (always a good idea with old lighting devices).

This glass scientific display dome - which isn't leaning sideways, but apparently I was when I took the photo - features a 1927 certificate awarded to young Lucien Mathy for successfully completing handwriting exercises. The dome also holds 19th-century leather button-up boots and a hand-painted bisque jointed doll, as well as a small collage that says "Remember me," by Colette of A Bird in the Hand. I should sew clothes for the doll, but am not sure what would be appropriate - a sailor suit? Any ideas from you creative types out there? What items have you repurposed or recycled lately?

Puzzled...

The World without Weapons, Pablo Picasso

"...the Iraq Study Group advised Bush to open direct talks with Iran. Members of both parties in Congress have publicly given similar advice, as have former secretary of state Colin Powell and Robert Gates, the new defense secretary. Still, it would be naive to think that either a wall of opposition or the possibility of dire consequences would necessarily deter this president." -Craig Unger, Vanity Fair, March 2007

For Sunday Scribblings, I'm puzzled...

Where is the outrage??!! Why aren't more Americans protesting as the Bush administration draws closer to attacking Iran? The Incredible Hawk Dick Cheney is becoming increasingly vocal about the matter, strongly hinting Friday of impatience with Iran's provocative government. At a press conference with Australian Prime Minister John Howard - himself a hawk and Bush ally - Cheney told reporters that "all options are on the table," vis a vis how the US would respond to Iran. "They have made some fairly inflammatory statements," Cheney said. "They appear to be pursuing the development of nuclear weapons."

Sound familiar? Isn't this the same sort of rhetoric he and his cronies used to justify going to war against Iraq? Cheney expressed concern at Iran's "fairly aggressive" role in the Middle East and its flouting a United Nations deadline to stop uranium enrichment.

While the Democratic-controlled Congress has warned President Bush he doesn't have the authority to attack Iran - see my article Hear those sabers rattling - it wouldn't be the first time the Bush administration has considered itself above the law. Look at the illegal wiretapping of American telephones and emails without court orders, the massive corruption and waste in awarding Iraqi rebuilding contracts and violating international law and human rights of 430 prisoners currently held in Guantanamo Bay, some for as much as four years.

On June 29, 2006 the US Supreme Court struck down military tribunals, declaring them illegal under US law, the Geneva Conventions and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. In Hamdan v. Rumsfeld the court ruled that the Bush administration established the tribunals without congressional authorization and violated international law. But Bush and the previous Republican-led Congress got around that in October by signing the Military Commissions Act of 2006, creating a new system of interrogating and prosecuting terrorism suspects. Most worryingly, the act denies prisoners at Guantanamo their right to file writs of habeas corpus, a principle demanding judicial inquiry into the legality of detention.

The principle of habeas corpus dates prior to the Magna Carta. Ulysses S. Grant was the last president to suspend habeas corpus on Oct. 17, 1871, 135 years to the day before Bush would do the same. Grant signed his order two weeks after the Confederate attack on the Union garrison at Fort Sumter. He had sent federal troops to South Carolina to stop attacks by the Ku Klux Klan against newly-emancipated black citizens. As guaranteed in the Constitution, habeas corpus "shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or invasion the public safety may require it."

Since the previous Republican-led Congress flounted the Supreme Court decision by scripting new rules for Guantanamo Bay, the right of habeas corpus for non-citizens is denied. The act also redefines the term "enemy combatant."

Propaganda campaign

I'm puzzled why the Bush administration - which has thrown billions of American tax dollars into the black hole of Iraq - has been allowed to spend a projected $85 million in tax dollars spreading a disinformation propaganda campaign about Iran, as well as supporting Iranian dissidents? And who's spearheading this anti-Iran campaign designed to muddy the waters? Why none other than Dick Cheney's daughter Elizabeth!

Education

As billions of tax dollars are wasted or squandered on the Bush administation's dubious aims, massive cuts in American education funding and school programs are underway. Education is the single most important element if America expects to maintain economic power and influence in the world. Many of the world's citizens speak at least two languages. China and India are set to surpass the US in economic growth in less than 20 years. Unless the American work force is educated to meet such global challenges, the US cannot expect to maintain its competitive edge.

Just imagine how our nation's schools could be improved with the $85 million spent for the anti-Iran propaganda campaign!

Meanwhile, permanent UN Security Council members and Germany will meet Monday to discuss further sanctions against Iran, following its decision to ignore last Thursday's deadline.

Information compiled from magazine and newspaper reports

Magazine cover girl

Yes, it's true! The cover art on the latest issue of Somerset Studio magazine was created by the beautiful and talented Kristen Robinson! Many of you may know Kristen's artwork and jewelry through her blog or her Etsy store. If you're in the US, Somerset Studio is available at newstands everywhere. The magazine also features an article about clever crafter Pam Garrison. My husband is off to Toronto for a speaking engagement next week, with a request to search high and low for a copy of this magazine.

Invitations and HappyUp

More invitations to the 74th Foire Nationale a la Brocante et aux Jambons at ile de Chatou arrived in today's mail - in an envelope postmarked over a "Ceci est une invitation" stamp. I have two extra invitations, so if you're in Paris March 9 - 18th and would like one, email me.

The HappyUp buttons on the left were sent a few months ago by my friend Scott of Nutter's Notes. I gave one to my daughter and another to the postman, as Scott was concerned about the postman pinching one. Check out Scott's blog, as he is funny, thoughtful, wise, inspirational and a bit of a nut (and he has great skin, thanks to taking my advice - you can read all about it in his archives).

Never satisfied

A poem and prose for Poetry Thursday 's prompt "the body knows." Writing this piece was very upsetting and I hesitate to unleash these raw emotions on an unsuspecting public:

If you love me
you will think I am beautiful
whether or not I am thin

Real beauty
comes from within
and is not related to size

The scope of my heart and intellect
is what matters
any day of the week

So why do I frown
when I look in the mirror;
don't I love myself?

I'm going to tell you a secret. For all my myriad accomplishments, to this day body image is a tortuous psychological issue for me. Thinking about weight - and I think about it every single day - has the ability to bring me to tears more than anything else in my life. Since I was a teenager this subject has made me uncomfortable and self-conscious. Even when men were oohing and aahing, I thought I was too curvy, too busty.

People have always talked about my pretty face, big eyes and high cheekbones, but rarely commented about my body - at least not in a good way. When men said I was "stacked like a brick house," I didn't feel flattered.

One day my friend said with concern, "You're looking very thin and peaked." After leaving a bad relationship, I'd lost weight in a short space of time. Later that day I had a phone conversation with my ex and told him I'd lost 20 pounds, in the grief of our break-up. His response? "That's good," as though I'd achieved something positive. I'd been the perfect size ten the entire time he knew me, so why did he think I needed to lose 20 pounds?

Recently I watched Kate Winslet diving into a pool* and realised the last time I felt comfortable doing that, I was 24 years old. All these years, I've worried my body isn't good enough, that I can't measure up - to what? A model-thin figure from the editorial pages of Vogue? How much time and energy have I spent worrying about what others think and projecting their concerns onto my own fragile self-image?

Last year a relative looked at some photos taken not that long ago and said, "Look at how thin you were then," implying of course, that I'm not now. Whenever I lived or traveled in the Middle East, people would say to me, "You're so thin! You need to eat more rice, more potatoes. We need to put some meat on your bones."

Why do people seem to think they have the right to comment/pass judgement on people's size? All my life I've been told by well-meaning or perhaps not-so-well-meaning friends or relatives that I'm either too thin or too chubby - rarely has anyone said, "You're beautiful exactly the way you are." My beloved grandmother spent her adult life battling weight gain and diabetes. Some people made her feel ashamed, as though she'd done something wrong, but it was a matter of genetics. I worry that I'll have a similar fate.

I have a favourite taupe silk shantung jacket and slacks that no longer fit properly and my jeans are too tight. After 40, one's metabolism slows and your body begins subtle (or not-so-subtle) changes. Without realising it, I've gained weight, almost in the blink of an eye. How did it happen?

I've thought about it and think it started when we moved to Paris. Maybe it was drinking more red wine, eating French baguettes, but I think I've slowly added pounds as a perverse form of "protection." Because never in my life have I felt more emotionally vulnerable than in Paris - surrounded by impossibly chic, stick-insect French women - like those pages of the fashion magazines come to life. These women can be very judgmental if you don't conform to their standards of dress/appearance.

In Paris, my identity and credence as a journalist, traveling in certain circles went out the window. In this city one is judged very much by appearance. The French respect a fine mind, but they'll never notice if they don't notice you - because you're not thin enough. So often I wish I could be invisible here.

The funny thing is, I eat less than anyone I know. I walk for miles and miles all over Paris, but my metabolism has slowed and my waist has disappeared. Besides getting more exercise, the only solution - short of bust-reduction surgery - seems to be to cut out the red wine (which is good for your heart and I have a minor heart problem).

My body is changing and could there be any worse place in the world for this to happen than Paris? If I traveled anywhere else, people might think I could stand to lose a few pounds, but they wouldn't consider me fat. In Paris, if you're not a size two, there's something wrong with you. And this is not just my experience. A very svelte American woman who lived here for years talked about the same issues. When she went to the US, her size 8-10 figure was envied. In Paris, she was viewed as a "big girl." (Her words, not mine).

Meanwhile, I've put off a hair appointment, because is there anything more disheartening than being in a salon surrounded by skinny French women, all wearing black (as though they need to look thinner)??!! It's no wonder that even after six years, Paris doesn't feel like home.

*scene from the movie "The Holiday"

Government intervention fails to stop lawsuit

Poster from Micah Wright's Propaganda Remix Project

A federal judge in San Francisco has ruled that the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) can go forward with its class action lawsuit against AT&T for collaborating with the US government on illegal spying on Americans. The judge denied requests by AT&T and the government to freeze proceedings during an appeal.

In his ruling, U.S. District Court Judge Vaughn Walker allowed EFF to ask "limited and targeted" questions in the discovery process, as long as the questions don't overlap with issues under consideration in the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals.

"The government wanted to put this case in the deep freeze," said EFF Staff Attorney Kurt Ophsal. "Instead, the court has invited us to move forward with some targeted questions. We're glad to accept that invitation, which will allow progress while respecting the government's national security concerns."

Judge Walker refused to implement a blanket stay on other telecommunications surveillance cases transferred to his court. He ruled that unless the parties stipulate to a stay,"defendants will answer or otherwise respond to the complaint" by March 29. Earlier this week, the judge denied requests from media groups to unseal critical evidence in the AT&T case. He said he might revisit the issue at a later date.

"We're disappointed that the court did not choose to unseal all of the documents that include or refer to the evidence presented by Mark Klein and our expert, J. Scott Marcus. The government has already agreed that the evidence is neither classified nor a state secret and is only being held under seal because of AT&T's weak trade secrecy claims," said Cindy Cohn, EFF's legal director. "Given that the privacy of millions of Americans is at stake, we strongly believe that the public would benefit from seeing this evidence for themselves."

For background on the AT&T lawsuit, read Update on class action against AT&T, AT&T maintains secret room for NSA, documents allege and Don't Let AT&T off the hook.

"The lightning of possible storms"

Ancient temple, Cambodia, photo by Marie-Claire Holmes

In a 1980 interview with Le Monde, Paris, the French philosopher Michel Foucalt declared: "I dream about a kind of criticism that would try not to judge but to bring an oeuvre, a book, a sentence, an idea to life; it would light fires, watch the grass grow, listen to the wind, and catch the sea foam in the breeze and scatter it. It would multiply not judgments but signs of existence; it would summon them, drag them from their sleep. Perhaps it would invent them sometimes -- all the better."

"Criticism that hands down sentences sends me to sleep; I'd like a criticism of scintillating leaps of imagination. It would not be sovereign or dressed in red. It would bear the lightning of possible storms."

Don't die before you're dead

An Ancient Longing by Randall LaGro, oil and mixed media on panel, photo courtesy of the Blue Rain Gallery, Taos, New Mexico.

Waiting in the dentist's office Tuesday, I distracted myself by reading Alexandra Stoddard's book You Are Your Choices. It's an inspiring collection of essays about "living the good life."

An excerpt of Stoddard's essay Have as few Regrets as Possible:

"What are you making of yourself when those around you are lazy and indifferent? What are you doing with your life? It's never too late to choose to change yourself. Do not give up or run away from the opportunity to grow. That is the ultimate tragedy. There's no place to go and hide in life. Your job, your duty, your responsibility is to make the most you can of you." "... Don't regret that you were unable to shape up others; only regret when you don't live up to your own vast potential for good."

"Work on yourself every day. We can't sprint at the end and catch up. We need to strengthen our intellectual muscles now before our brain loses synapses. We need to build upon our virtuous habits of choice every single day in order to have fewer...regrets."

"Don't be afraid to do what only you can do. Rather than having chest pains trying to do work you no longer are capable of or enjoy, it may be better to cut your losses. You will feel great joy and satisfaction doing something you know you love to do. What would you choose to do if you knew you couldn't fail? Do that very thing, because it is there where you'll develop your potential."

"You and I are capable of so much more. We should encourage each other to do more to express who we are. We can cut through our difficulties by our belief in our self. The only way we can fail is not to try. Michaelangelo wrote, "The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it."

"Our consciousness is ours to raise as high as we're able, as soon as possible. We all have lots of work to do. All of our experiences give us knowledge and inspiration to build on. Our glass, we will discover, is more than half full..." "Use all your powers while you can. It is tragedy to die before we're fully born. We can't afford to let our creative spirit die inside while we're still able to make life-changing choices. We're only using a fraction of our capacity. All the rush and franctic busy-ness is keeping us from the good choices that will allow us to live with as few regrets as possible."

"One choice I persistently try to make is to be perservering. When we stay the course, when we keep trying, we will have fewer regrets. Perseverance leads to good habits that help us over the inevitable rough patches. Live with an appreciative awareness of the precious gift of your life. Don't miss the mark by not making your own brave choices. This is your challenge. Don't feel sorry for what might have been. You are your choices. Own your choices. Hear the cry and choose to follow what is the good life for you."

Don't Die before You're Dead is the title of a book by the Russian poet Yevgeny Yevtushenko.

Hear those sabers rattling?

"It is absolutely parallel," said Philip Giraldi, a former CIA counterterrorism specialist. "They're using the same dance steps - demonize the bad guys, the pretext of diplomacy, keep out of negotiations, use proxies. It is Iraq redux." ...from Craig Unger's article "From the Wonderful Folks Who Brought You Iraq" in Vanity Fair's March 2007 issue

Last week the US Congress took the unusual step of warning the American president that he does not have the authority to attack Iran. Last night (Feb. 19) the BBC reported US contingency plans for air strikes on Iran extend beyond nuclear sites and include most of the country's military infrastructure. Security correspondent Frank Gardner said it is understood that any such attack - if ordered - would target Iranian air bases, naval bases, missile facilities and command-and-control centres.

The Bush administration denies it is planning to attack and insists it is trying to persuade Tehran to stop uranium enrichment. The United Nations has urged Iran to stop its program or face economic sanctions. But diplomatic sources have told the BBC that as a fallback plan, senior officials at Central Command in Florida have already selected their target sets inside Iran. That list includes Iran's uranium enrichment plant at Natanz. Facilities at Isfahan, Arak and Bushehr are also on the target list, sources say.

Meanwhile, the Guardian reports today that Iran could be as little as six months away from being able to enrich uranium on an industrial scale, having mastered the technology since last August, the head of the UN's nuclear watchdog warned in an interview published today in London's Financial Times. However, Mohamed El Baradei, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) director general, stressed that Iran was still years away from developing a nuclear weapon.

By the end of February, the US will have enough forces in the Gulf to mount an assault on Iran, according to the Vanity Fair article. Sam Gardiner said the most telling sign that a decision to bomb has already been made was the October deployment order of minesweepers to the Persian Gulf, presumably to counter any attempt by Iran to blockae the Strait of Hormuz, through which 40 percent of the world's oil passes.

In his January 10 speech - during which he mentioned Iran six times - President George Bush announced he was sending Patriot missles to the Middle East to defend US allies - presumably from Iran. And he asserted Iran was "providing material support for attacks on American troops."

In an email Monday from Move On:

"The president is out of control and Congress has to rein him in. President Bush's plan to deal with the mess in Iraq is to escalate the military conflict. He's not just escalating war in Iraq, he's provoking an escalation with Iran—a confrontation that could inflame the entire Middle East. This is a situation of the most serious proportions and we have to make sure Congress stops him."

From the Paris Parfait April 6, 2006 article Iran on Bush's radar?:

"What is wrong with the Bush administration??!! Haven't they learned a single lesson from the complete catastrophe disguised as Iraq? How could the United States even begin to fund another military campaign, either in terms of finance, manpower or world opinion? It seems the Bush administration's penchant for foisting their ideas on other nations------and punishing them if they don't accept them-----is veering dangerously out of control.

"Granted, the idea of Iran developing nuclear weapons is worrying. Still, the international community managed to avoid a standoff with North Korea over its nuclear ambitions. So why the rush to judgement against Iran? Why even consider abandoning all efforts of reasoned dialogue and diplomacy and start another war in the Middle East, while further inflaming hatred throughout the region? That's just reckless and foolhardy and irresponsible and inexcusable, no matter what your politics, religion or personal beliefs.

"These critical issues involving Iran's nuclear capabilities are best safeguarded by the professionals: the Nobel Peace Prize winners Mohammed el Baradei and the International Atomic Energy Agency, as well as the United Nations------NOT a bunch of hotheads in the Bush administration who appear determined to force confrontation. If ever restraint was needed, now is the time!"

From the Paris Parfait article April 21 Let's not go there:

"Joe Conason predicts dire consequences in Iraq, if the Bush administration attacks Iran for pursuing a uranium enrichment program. Following are excerpts of his article "Attacking Iran: Are they nuts?" in today's Salon.

"Should Bush ignore their advice and order air strikes, it is possible to imagine a disaster ensuing. At present, the coalition forces in Iraq depend heavily on supply lines that extend for 300 miles along highways from Kuwait and the southern Iraqi port at Basra. Mechanized units of the Iranian military, which currently boasts 800,000 men under arms, would not have far to go to cut those lines as soon as the United States started bombing. And their way into southern Iraq, cutting off the Al-Faw peninsula, would be paved by an uprising of the Shiite militia."

From the Paris Parfait article September 14 US report misleading, watchdog says:

"The UN nuclear watchdog has protested to the US government over a report on Iran's nuclear program, calling it "erroneous" and "misleading." In a letter leaked to reporters the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) said a congressional report contained "serious distortions" of the agency's own findings on Iran's nuclear activity.

"The BBC reported that the IAEA also took "strong exception" to claims made over removal of a senior safeguards inspector. The IAEA said the letter was sent to the American government to "set the record straight on the facts." "This is a matter of the integrity of the IAEA and its inspectors," spokeswoman Melissa Fleming said in a statement.

"The letter, signed by Vilmos Cserveny, a senior IAEA director was sent to Peter Hoekstra, head of the House of Representatives' Select Committee on Intelligence. The letter said an August 23 report by the committee was wrong to say that Iran had enriched uranium to weapons-grade level, when the IAEA had found only small quantities of enrichment at far lower levels.

From the Paris Parfait article December 31 It was never about Saddam Hussein:

"...Unwittingly, Bush and his stubborn cohorts handed Iran disproportionate influence among Muslims in Iraq. Of course Iran has no business in Iraq - it's a non-Arab country that has despised Hussein and Iraq, following a bloody ten-year war. But Iran sees its chance amidst the chaos of Iraq to influence certain Muslim groups to act in a manner that might ultimately benefit Iran.

"Further, the Bush administration will be forced to make concessions to the Iranian regime to find any solution to the quagmire that has become Iraq; concessions despite Iran's deliberate defiance of international law vis a vis halting its nuclear production activities."

From the Independent, London Feb. 15:

"President Bush has again accused Iran of supplying lethal weaponry to Shia fighters in Iraq but stepped back from claims made by US military officials that the shipments had been approved "at the highest levels" in Tehran.

"His remarks came after General Peter Pace, chairman of the joint chiefs and Bush's top uniformed military adviser, appeared to contradict a briefing by senior US officers in Baghdad last weekend, at which they displayed sophisticated explosive devices said to have been manufactured in Iran and responsible for the death of 170 coalition troops. The arms had been sent on the instructions of government leaders, they said.

"Speaking at his first set- piece White House press conference of the year, Mr Bush said he was "certain" the weapons were provided by the al-Quds force, a branch of Iran's elite Revolutionary Guards. But - like General Pace - he admitted he did not know if the order had come from the "top echelons" of the Islamic regime. However, he said: "My point is, what's worse, them ordering it and it happening, or them not ordering it and it happening?"

Stay tuned, folks. Let's hope Congress can rise to the occasion and stop Bush & Co. from attacking Iran. Otherwise, looks like we're in for another bumpy ride driven by hawks, hell-bent on having things their way - at the world's expense.

Poster from Micah Wright's Propaganda Remix Project

Chinese new year and La Poste's campaign

The Inno supermarket chain is in the festive spirit for the Year of the Golden Pig, an event that comes along once every 60 years. Flying dragons, lanterns, fans and other colourful decorations hovered over stacks of ingredients for Chinese food. The store also featured a display of Chinese herbs and spices and another of Japanese bonsai trees, which were labeled "Chinois et Japon."

Paris post offices are still in the mood for love, with red Valentine's votives placed everywhere, along with huge red posters urging people to write letters to their "amour." The post office seemed very crowded today, as several life-size cardboard "paper doll" cutouts representing La Poste's new "genius" customer service were placed throughout the room - including one cutout standing in line with the customers.

According to La Poste's advertising campaign, postal clerks can answer all sorts of questions unrelated to mail service, including where to find a babysitter!

Chef's cuisine

A bouquet of herbs in la cuisine

The One Deep Breath prompt is to write a "spicy fib," a poem using the Fibonacci mathematical sequence of syllables: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5 and 8.

French
chef
concocts
wondrous meals
in our small kitchen
my job is cleaning up the mess

Actually the chef (my husband) is British, but he's in France cooking with French ingredients, often using French recipes. And his creations are delicious. Of course, creativity is often messy; hence my job as chief bottle washer. I mean that literally, as using the dishwasher blows a fuse. A dishwasher repairman and two electricians have been perplexed by this riddle, which remains unsolved. These days the dishwasher is used for storing parts for the food processor.

Arbitrary rules

Kerak Castle, Kerak, Jordan

In his book Like the Flowing River, Paulo Coelho tells the story of visiting a ruined castle near Olite, Spain. A man at the door tells him, "You can't come in." Coelho's inituition suggests the man is saying this purely for the pleasure of saying "No!" So he offers the man a tip, tries being nice and points out that it is, after all, a ruined castle. "You can't come in," the man insists.

Coelho decides the only alternative is to see if the man will physically prevent him from entering the castle. He walks towards the door and the man looks at him, but does nothing.

As Coelho is leaving, two other tourists walk into the castle. The old man does not try to stop them. Coelho writes that he thinks - thanks to his resistance - the old man decided to stop inventing ridiculous rules. "Sometimes the world asks us to fight for things we do not understand and whose significance we will never discover," Coelho notes.

Orange crush

Boarding passes, art gallery tickets and hotel stickers from my travels

For Sunday Scribblings:

Men I admired, attracted to me
harmless flirtations
bright sparks amidst routine
a wink and smile
an appreciative remark
conversation over lunch
a drink with colleagues
but nothing more
lest a crush threaten
the relationship that sustained me:

Orange crush*

Everything changed
the night we met
setting into motion a chain of events
that kept us connected
despite continents between us

I dreamt of you,
thought of you every day
fantasized about seeing you again
wrote clever cards and letters
and recorded tapes

Those days before email and mobile phones
you rang me from whatever country
you happened to be that week
in between trips you trained for triathlons
wearing funny t-shirts I sent by courier

After a long absence
an unexpected encounter
in London for a last-minute assignment
caught the last flight; too late to phone
I walked in the Chelsea restaurant

Jetlagged and weary,
the cliche of the foreign correspondent
wearing a rumpled trenchcoat
a battered reporter's bag slung over my shoulder
looking for the maitre'd

As you rose from your seat
Crazy for You played in the background
your smile lit up the room
and I wept tears of joy
in your arms, I was home

More phone calls from foreign climes
all the while, longing for more
but meetings deferred
too many stamps on our passports
sending us in opposite directions

You wrote and asked me
to move to London, saying you needed more
but work made it impossible
self-preservation instincts kicked in
I tried to tell myself it was just a crush

So why did it hurt so much?

*Play on words referring not to the soda Orange Crush, but to the fact that the "crush" was from Holland and orange is the traditional colour of the Dutch monarchy, as well as the colour of the Netherlands and its football team.

Fab Friday

Signs of spring: daffodils in a favourite 1970s opalescent juice pitcher.

Many things for which to be grateful this Friday. I had email from Heidi, one of my best friends from New York days. We'd lost touch through our many moves. Thanks to the Internet, she found me through my blog!

Heidi has a fairly common last name and I'd tried to locate her, to no avail. I'm so pleased we've reconnected! Heidi is one of my favourite people; we've shared many an adventure.

The divine Caty sent me a wonderful message in Spanish and I could read it without getting out my Spanish dictionary! I also had email from a man in Los Angeles who purchased a rare Arts and Crafts piano at Liberty of London, in part due to my photograph of the piano.

For lunch I had a delicious chevre et noix baguette from Le Grenier a Pain, an award-winning local boulangerie.

I received invitations to my favourite brocante at Chatou, just outside Paris.

I found this mignon little wooden box "To me," at my friend Julie's antique shop Agape. It's painted black, although the inside is a bright Holli pink.

And at last the missing Amazon.co.uk order arrived with Patry Francis's book! Holding it in my hands, I felt almost as excited as Patry must have when she saw the first copy. After getting to know the charming and talented Patry in the last year through her blog Simply Wait and the Third Day Book Club, I am thrilled to receive her book. Yes, this is what I'll be doing late into the night this weekend - reading "The Liar's Diary." Hope you have an enjoyable weekend planned!

Walk/don't walk

The Poetry Thursday prompt is to write prose poetry. As I've never written poetry in this form, nor read much prose poetry, this was a challenge. I felt a bit like this upside-down crosswalk sign seen in Passy today - confused and uncertain about which direction to take. Here's an initial attempt at prose poetry:

Making beautiful music requires countless hours of practice. But he didn't want to make the effort - like practicing scales, he considered it a waste of time. Instant gratification was his preference. He ran away at the first wrong note on a piano in need of tuning.

All the hurt he'd endured long before he met her caused his faith to crumble, when happiness was in plain sight. If he didn't believe in himself, how could he trust her open heart? So he set out to destroy the love that could save him.

Inviting her on a journey he was not prepared to take, he abandoned her in the middle of the road. She picked herself up, mapped her own course and found true love. He bought a new car, but remained mired in indecision. Years later, love still eludes him.

Heart tart - and thank you!

A heart tart for my Valentine...

...and a big thank you to the many readers and friends who voted in the Share the Love Blog Awards! I'm pleased to learn Paris Parfait has won the award for Best Commenter and Corey of Tongue in Cheek has won for Most Inspiring. It's an honour to be among such good company. Merci bien, mes amis and thanks to Heather at One Woman's World for hosting the annual awards.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Vintage French heart-shaped cake tins

Seven years ago today, David met me at Heathrow, London and we've been together ever since. We'd met in New York three months earlier and communicated via phone calls and e-mail. So much to celebrate today! Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours!

Accidental encounters

Art Nouveau iron grillwork on a door in my neighbourhood

As in any big city, you never know what what might happen while walking around Paris. Yesterday, I went to a Banque Populaire cash machine in my neighbourhood. As soon as I inserted my card in the special "anti-fraud" device, the machine flashed and said "temporarily closed." Pressing the annulement button repeatedly did not release my bank card, which had vanished inside the machine.

A man behind me tried to help, to no avail and the bank was closed. So I went to a grocery store three blocks away to buy a pen, returned to the bank and wrote down the emergency phone numbers listed on its window. Then I went home to begin the process of retrieving my bank card.

When I found my card number and called my own bank (not Banque Populaire), I realised by the time my card was discovered, someone may have copied the information and my signature. When the bank advised the card should be cancelled immediately, I agreed.

This being France, home of bureaucratic cauchemar, (nightmare) that wasn't the end of the affair. I had to phone another number to report the card disparu (had disappeared), then fax a letter with the reference number confirming the card's cancellation, to my bank branch. Rather than faxing it, my husband carried the letter to the bank, but it will take "a few days" for another card to be issued.

This afternoon I went to the offending bank to register my displeasure. The manager was charming and helpful, to the point of unlocking the cash machine to look for my card. But it wasn't my card he brought back. Apparently someone else had suffered the same fate!

Full of apologies, the manager then launched into a lengthy discourse on how cash machines are after all, machines and they malfunction. C'est normal," he said, punctuated by a Gallic shrug. He said my card was probably routed to a central server at another bank, where it dissipated into the ether. So as long as I'd reported the "opposition" (loss) of my bank card to my own bank, nothing more could be done.

"90 ans, aide moi"

"Ninety years old: help me!" That's what was written on a sign an old man was holding in the Harve Caumartin metro station. In my post Shelter from the storm, I mentioned the homeless camped out in 300 tents along the River Seine. The tents were purchased by a local activist to draw attention to the plight of the large numbers of homeless people in Paris.

While Chirac's government has talked about the need for "inclusion" and providing more housing, not only for the homeless, but for immigrants, little has been done. No doubt he prefers to let the next president tackle the ballooning problem of low-income housing.

Staring contests

Many French people do not consider it rude to stare. Recently in a doctor's waiting room, a man stared at me so long, I held a magazine in front of my face. Did I have something on my face? Did I resemble someone he knew? Was he overwhelmed by my good looks? Hee hee. Who knows, but I felt uncomfortable.

Another time I was in a restaurant with friends, when the French family at a table across from us, turned and stared openly, for several minutes. Really, we weren't that interesting! Did they have nothing better to do with their time?

One day on the Line 9 metro an old man of Arab descent stared at me with undisguised hostility. Did I look too American? Was he angry because that day George Bush had announced he was sending 20,000 more troops to Iraq? I was angry and I'm American. But I don't go around blaming other people for George Bush's behaviour. Finally the man's staring - almost a look of hatred - became intolerable and I got off and got on another car.

Then there's the middle-aged Arab guy on roller skates. He's bearded, big and burly and always wearing a green hooded parka edged with fur and baggy jeans. Often I see him skating up and down the streets on his way to and from the Bois du Boulogne. Sometimes he ignores me. Other times, he'll make rude, suggestive remarks in broken English, then skate off as fast as he can go. (See, everyone can tell I'm not French!)

The last time this happened, I vowed to put a stop to it. So when he approached me again, I spoke to him in Arabic, calling him an animal. I don't know if he was more shocked by the fact that I was speaking Arabic or by the insult. But now he steers clear of me.

Funny how even mundane encounters in a crowded international city can prove so charged with tension.

Shelter from the storm

Haiku written for One Deep Breath's shelter prompt:

Portal at Alcazar Palace, Sevilla, Spain

Even this palace
with its door like a fortress
can't escape conflict

Ajloun Castle, Jordan

Built high on a hill
to deter all invaders
yet no safe havens

Desert Castles, Qusayr Amra, Jordan

Shelter elusive
time's erosion: stone crumbles
temporary home

In Paris they camp
in tents by the Seine while the
government dithers

It looks like home but
don't get too comfortable
soon time to move on

Decorate the rooms
settle in for a long stay
nothing permanent

You might call this home
but just simple bricks and stones
You are my real home

I traveled the world
only to discover that
home is where you are

Vivre la difference

Vintage hand-carved miniature shoe lasts and slippers from a French shoemaker, gifts from my friend Gabrielle.

Last week I had lunch with Gabrielle in a little medieval village outside Paris. On the way, we were discussing her recent trip to Washington, D.C. She told me that she and her friend (also French) were amused by going into stores, restaurants, etc. and being treated as though they were long-lost friends. "Hi! How're you doing?" was the typical greeting. In one store, Gabrielle responded, "I'm fine. How's your mom?" and she and her friend burst out laughing.

The clerk was bewildered, until Gabrielle explained she was French and that in France, greeting strangers tends to be more formal. Usually the sales assistant will greet a customer with "Bonjour, Madame" or "Bonjour, Monsieur." Clerks would never dare presume to be so "friendly" with a customer as American sales assistants might.

The last time I was in San Francisco, I took my husband to John's Grill (of Dashiel Hammett's The Maltese Falcon fame) for steak. Even though we had reservations, we were kept waiting for half an hour. Then we were thoroughly annoyed by the young waiter, who kept trying to make conversation. "Where're ya'll from?" he started out. "I live here," I said, to cut him short. But that wasn't enough. He started telling us about himself and persisted in questions about my husband's British accent, etc. etc.

Now I understand that in the U.S. waiters attempt to provide good service and be friendly, to insure nice tips. My daughter made excellent tips when working as a waitress part-time in Savannah. She quickly learned that to get good tips in a town popular with tourists, she needed to be friendly, talkative AND provide good service in a timely manner. In a tourist town like Savannah, restaurant patrons may be more eager to converse with their server, ask questions about sites nearby, etc.

But we didn't come to the restaurant in San Francisco to get to know the waiter; we came for dinner. And when I told him I lived in San Francisco (and I had until the year before), he should have cut the "tourist talk" short, rather than continually interrupt our dinner.

In France, the waiters do their job expertly and efficiently and never ask anything more personal than "how do you want your lamb cooked?" Of course in France, waiters are professionals, not college students or actors working part-time to pay the bills until they can pursue their "real" careers.

The customer isn't always right

French sales clerks do not subscribe to the "customer is always right" theory so popular in the US. I told Gabrielle about an experience I had recently at The Body Shop. I was looking for Cucumber Water, an astringent toner that I've used since 1983. It seems they no longer carry that product in France, although a similar product containing seaweed was for sale. I was content to use that until next I'm in London and can buy more Cucumber Water, but no! The sales clerk argued with me that it was the wrong product for my combination skin. I assured her it would do just fine, but she refused to sell me the product insisting I buy another for dry skin. So I walked out without buying anything.

Another time I went to a hair salon to book an appointment for a hair colour. This was shortly after we'd moved here from London and I was afraid even to venture into a salon. When I told the woman what I wanted, she said, "No!" and shook her finger in my face. Because she was convinced another colour would be better for me, no matter what I wanted. And she was determined to have things her way. Another time the woman cutting my hair refused to shape it the way I preferred. The French tend to think they know best about matters of aesthetics, although they're not always right.

Last month when having dinner with friends visiting from Holland, I told them the one thing I don't like about France is how the French try to impose their will on everyone. If you dress and act politely, as expected according to the standards of convention, you're accepted to a degree (although you will be viewed always as a foreigner). If you dress differently and don't conform to their expectations, you're frowned upon.

It stems from their deep-rooted suspicion of change and their stubborn refusal to be influenced by American or British culture, which they consider vulgar. Mais oui, it's the French you see standing in the express line on the street outside McDonald's - not the Americans or Brits. It also stems from the fact that the French, who don't travel outside their own country as much as other Europeans do, are bascially insecure. And in many ways, the French are insular and sometimes provincial. And if you want to start an argument, bring these topics up in conversation!

That being said, I love the French. The majority of them are wonderful and charming, with hearts of gold. And once you're friends, you're friends for life. Vivre la difference!

Vote for the new Seven Wonders

Photo of The Treasury, Petra, Jordan by Zohrab

Petra is my personal favourite among the 21 finalists for the New Seven Wonders of the World. Queen Rania of Jordan told reporters that Jordanians are proud to be custodians of "the stunning heritage of the Nabatean people." "Indeed, we feel that many of our modern Jordanian national characteristics are notably similar to those of the ancient Nabateans," the Queen remarked. "Like them, we have carved out a unique role as a bridge between diverse regions and cultures. And, like them, we are a peaceful culture committed to international commerce and dialogue. The magical rose-red city of Petra is like nothing else on earth. It is a remarkable testimony to the human spirit, etched for all time in sandstone and shale."

Other finalists for the New Seven Wonders of the World include the Great Pyramids of Giza, Egypt; Angkor Wat, Cambodia; the Parthenon, Greece; the Coliseum, Rome; the Taj Mahal, India; Stonehenge, England; the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty. To vote for your seven favourites, go here.

Saturday's delights

Dodging the raindrops
early morning search for things
that tug one's heartstrings

Another successful foray to the Puces de Vanves at Avenue Marc Sangnier, Porte de Vanves resulted in several yummy finds: assorted petite Bonne Annee and Bonne Fete cards (above), buttons (below), hand-beaded millinery flowers, a set of 12 silver-plate forks and two Napoleon III hand-carved scenes of Christ's crucifixion. Alas the photographs don't do the latter justice. I've posted them in black and white in an attempt to show detail.

To read about more yummy things, visit Sunday Scribblings.

Snow in London

Before moving to Paris six years ago, David, Jordana and I lived in Blackheath, London (six miles from Central London). It's a small village built around a large green open heath, which is centered by a church. The heath is also the starting point for the London Marathon. On the other side of the heath is Greenwich of Greenwich Mean Time fame. Maurice Tunney's photo today for the BBC shows Blackheath's green, blanketed by snow. How I wish I were there!

Snow seems to have bypassed Paris this year. Earlier this week we had a teasing snow flurry, which vanished almost as quickly as it had arrived!

Marrakech triptych

Kristen Robinson's Marrakech-themed mixed media on canvas collages are finally back from Olivier Gagneau's Paris studio, Val d'Or. The three are framed in an oak shadow box, tinted reddish-brown. When I told Kristen I wanted to group them together as a triptych, she said that had been her intent as well. Click photo to view detail.

To see more of the California artist's beautiful work, visit links here or contact Kristen via email.

New look for vintage table

Two weeks ago this old table was in sad shape. My friend Julie who owns the antiques store Agape had just found it at a flea market in Northern France. Its zinc top was dirty and marked and its faded beige colour had long lost its lustre. But its potential was still visible.

A piece of teal blue pottery from Santa Fe was the colour inspiration (the colour is darker than it appears in the photo) for the distressed paint finish. Later I remembered the aqua crystal drawer knob I'd purchased at a Savannah antiques shop. After the paint, cleaning the zinc and adding the new drawer knob, et voila!

Now the trick is to make the table fit in our small kitchen! It appears some serious rearranging is in order. Meanwhile, le table waits in the foyer, blocking coat closets.

Le panier des bombes

1930s French military panier des bombes (basket of bombs).

I had mixed reactions when I saw this panier at Agape. I have a thing for baskets, particularly old and unusual ones. I thought this one was quirky and certainly a catalyst for conversation. But its history of conflict gave me pause.

Finally, I decided the panier's symbolism could be transformed by imaginative usage, holding rolled-up architectural prints or umbrellas* - or even bouquets of flowers! The blue and yellow umbrellas are souvenirs from two of Lance Armstrong's July victories at the Tour de France.

For the Poetry Thursday prompt changes:

It toted small missles
for French soldiers
weapons designed to hit targets
with speed and precision

Wherever the challenge,
carrying bomb components
from one military campaign to another
as defensive tactics required

Now parapluies* rest
in le panier des bombes
but not much protection
if missles raining down

Try changing its character
make it a conversation piece
transform negative energy
to vibrations of harmony

Time for smudgestick and crystals

I can't believe it!

Exciting news! Thanks to all you wonderful voters out there, I am happy to discover Paris Parfait is a finalist in the Share the Love Blog Awards! And I have Corey of Tongue in Cheek for excellent company (as well as other fine nominees whom I don't know personally).

If you will allow me to toot my own horn for a moment, Paris Parfait is a finalist in the Best Writing, Most Thought-Provoking and Best Commenter catgegories. Corey is one of my four competitors in Most Thought-Provoking. And Tongue in Cheek is also a finalist in the Happiest Blog, Most Inspiring, Blogger You'd Most Like to Meet and Blog You'd Never Stop Reading categories.

So please go here to see the list of finalists and go here to vote on or before Tuesday, Feb. 13! if you encounter any technical glitches, please try later. Merci bien, mes amis!

Gabrielle's cuisine

My friend Gabrielle's cuisine (kitchen) - like the rest of her lovely home - is filled with unique antiques and collectibles. The old French mailbox (above) now contains recipes and papers.

A marble-topped table from a patisserie.

The 19th-century oil and vinegar pitchers are extremely rare and hard to find these days.

Vignettes feature vintage treasures

My friend Gabrielle, a former antiques dealer, lives in a beautiful stone farmhouse near Versailles. Every time I visit her home I am astonished by the stylish tableaus everywhere I turn. Today I asked if I might photograph them. Aren't these vignettes fabulous??!!

And the winner is...

Gabrielle prepares to draw the name of the winner of the French clock, offered to one Paris Parfait reader.

And the winner is...Deborah of Jane Poe - Nevermore! At 3:30 p.m. Paris time, my friend Gabrielle drew the winning name from the bowl - after tossing the names around like a salad. Initially we'd intended to throw the 72 names (alas, three of you entered too late) from the bowl into a hat. As Gabrielle was double-parked and in danger of being ticketed by a diligent police officer, we sped up the process.

Congratulations to Deborah, who was notified by email late this afternoon. I wish I had enough clocks to give away to all you wonderful readers! Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts through comments and email. This was such fun!

Twilight's edge

Photo, New Zealand by Marie-Claire Holmes

For One Deep Breath's dusk/twilight prompt, two haiku:

At twilight's glimmer
birds go home to roost; gulls glide
still no rest for me

Twilight's horizon:
sun sets; birds wing their way South
city lights twinkle

Food for thought for American voters

Gary Younge's fascinating article in today's Guardian, London should make interesting reading for American voters:

"You want to run for president?" asked Frank Bruni in his book Ambling into History. "Here's what you need to do: Have someone write you a lovely speech that stakes out popular positions in unwavering language and less popular positions in fuzzier terms. Better yet if it bows to God and country at every turn - that's called uplift. Make it rife with optimism, a trumpet blast not just about morning in America but about a perpetual dazzling dawn. Avoid talk of hard choices and daunting challenges; nobody wants those. Nod to people on all points of the political spectrum ... Add a soupcon of alliteration. Sprinkle with a few personal observations or stories - it humanises you. Stir with enthusiasm."

Watching the contenders for the Democratic party nomination at the Washington Hilton this weekend during the party's winter meeting was to see Bruni's formula applied with precision (though he might have added: "Have millionaire backers, be tall, married and able-bodied" - it is unlikely the wheelchair user FDR would have been elected in the era of mass television).

The candidates were each allowed seven minutes, 30 seconds of theme music and 100 poster-waving fans, to lay out their stall for the new American century. Each one spoke of how the nation's historic mission as a beacon of liberty, justice and opportunity throughout the globe, had been traduced by the Bush administration. There was nothing bad enough you could say about the Iraq war, the budget deficit or the state of healthcare. There was also nothing concrete that most of the candidates would say about what they would do to fix them. With little of substance on offer, delivery was everything. Barack Obama, who delivered beautifully, called for an end to cynicism in American politics. That's a lot of work for just seven minutes.

Americans, such demanding consumers in every other aspect of their lives, curiously expect little from their political leaders. They hold the principle of democracy dear; but the purpose of democracy remains elusive. The notion that "the people shall govern" is the cornerstone of American political identity - even if the nonchalance with which they watched Bush steal the 2000 election revealed a disturbing reluctance to defend it. Yet the idea that elections should be the mechanism for effecting real change barely seems to register - which is why it was relatively easy for Bush to get away with robbery.

On Paris time

Okay, maybe I can't offer you room service in a Paris hotel, but you can win this clock! In honour of you, dear readers - who have made my first year of blogging so memorable - I am giving away this working clock. Just leave a comment for this post and your names will go into a hat. On Tuesday, Feb. 6, my friend Gabrielle will pick the winner from le chapeau. And I'll send the clock to the winner, wherever you may be in the world. Bonne chance!

Goodbye to all that

The blue velvet dress and the end of an era

Ethereal by Randall LaGro, mixed media on board, photo courtesy of Blue Rain Gallery, Taos, New Mexico

I've said a lot of goodbyes in my time - too many, really. A recent farewell felt especially wrenching. You wouldn't think letting go of a dress would be so hard. Rather than have it hang in the closet like some museum piece, I decided to give my daughter the midnight blue velvet cocktail dress that had created such a stir. It wasn't so much that I was giving up the dress, but what that particular dress represented: reaping the benefits of beauty in full bloom.

In San Francisco, after a long, painful goodbye, I was enjoying a flirtation with an older, wealthy and sophisticated New York-born architect. We met at a dinner party months earlier, when we were both with other partners. After exchanging phone calls, we agreed to meet for dinner. But he wanted to surprise me with the destination. When I said I'd play along if he'd give me a hint about what to wear, he responded, "Something slightly wicked."

Naturally I was intrigued by this remark. And a quick glance in my closet determined a shopping expedition was in order. Hence the trip to Macy's in Union Square, where I saw it: a Betsey Johnson midnight blue velvet dress with a v-neck and long sleeves. It was a perfect fit, showing a respectable glimpse of cleavage, skimming the body and hitting three inches above the knee. I also found the beautiful pair of midnight blue satin strappy shoes to match. I wore gold drop earrings with lapis-lazuli and rust-coloured stones and my shoulder-length hair was coloured auburn. I'd never looked better. And he was suitably impressed.

The evening was lovely - he arrived at the door with an armful of roses, drove me in his sleek Jaguar to a fabulous restaurant, where champagne was chilling and waiters practically fell over themselves to accommodate our every wish. The meal was superb, with excellent food and wine and sparkling conversation. Afterwards we took a moonlight stroll near San Francisco Bay, then went dancing. On paper, it was a picture-perfect evening. The reality was that it seemed like he was trying too hard and I was acutely aware of the age difference.

But that "slightly wicked" dress had other outings. When I wore that dress, a man I'd been dating only a few weeks asked me to marry him - in front of a roomful of his friends! I declined. When I wore a figure-hugging black mohair sweater dress, I fell in love at first sight with a Dutchman at a dinner party in Bahrain. The disc jockey played Strangers in the Night when we danced, so apparent was our mutual attraction to everyone. Alas, timing and living on different continents would eventually conspire to keep us apart. And the dress vanished, along with nine suitcases left behind in Jordan.

Both the blue velvet dress and the black sweater dress are symbols of a time when I felt strong and relatively self-confident. It was a time heads always turned to follow me and possibilities were endless; a time when invitations were virtually non-stop and I never worried about facing fifty.

In December when shopping with Jordana in London, I was looking at kicky little black dresses and divine cocktail frocks and wishing I was the kind of woman beseiged with invitations to parties where such dresses were expected. And I suddenly realised I had been that woman; I had worn similar dresses to soirees and fetes. I had worn such confections in New York, London, San Francisco and Amman; in Cairo, Manama and Madrid. But now in Paris - the great fashion capital - such occasions are few and far between. I have a different life, which for the most part pleases me. And these days I really don't like cocktail parties. Still, moments of nostalgia arise...

My daughter, who is taller and thinner than I (and laments that she doesn't have my cleavage - I assure her she's better off) will wear the blue velvet dress over jeans, or embellish or adorn the classic design, giving it a more modern twist. But I suspect the dress will never have quite the same impact on her young life. She won't find it hard to say goodbye.

Read other tales of adieu at Sunday Scribblings.

Knock-offs, theft and treats in the mail

Standing in the cashier's line at one of Paris' most famous grand magasins, Printemps, I watched five Chinese people in front of me making curious purchases - one candlestick, one cup and saucer, one plate, etc. As they discussed each item among themselves and handed it to the cashier, two of them took notes, writing down prices and item descriptions. The cashier became rather agitated, informing they they couldn't buy just one candlestick; they must purchase a pair. Clearly, the customers were buying one of each item so as to take them back to China and reproduce them using cheap materials, then sell them for low prices, locally and to their burgeoning export market.

Visit almost any flea market or antique fair in Paris and the stall owners will forbid you to take photos - that is, if you look Asian. Because these dealers tell numerous stories about both Chinese and Japanese buyers taking photos of old original items, then flooding the marketplace with cheap knockoffs. On the flip side of the coin, some French store owners now pay Chinese craftsmen to produce products for the French market, using quality materials so that it is hard to determine their origin.

My friend Gabrielle noticed at a recent brocante at Bastille that two identical gilt mirrors purported to be mid-19th century were, well too identical - right down to the "age" marks. They were splendid copies; only a trained eye would have detected the difference between the fake and the real thing. The problem was the dealer was representing the copies to be original and selling them at the price of an original mirror. Gabrielle said the dealer would have had better luck displaying only one mirror at a time; perhaps then prospective buyers would be fooled.

Recently I've observed theft of another kind - probably unintended, but theft nevertheless. Through various links, I've discovered that some bloggers have been using photos - mine and other bloggers' - in their own posts, without providing credit to the original source. One blog has a habit of "borrowing" another's photo, but not identifying it or crediting it to the photographer. The only way a reader would know the photo originated elsewhere was by clicking the photo, which would then lead to the initial source. But the post is presented in such a way that the reader would be unlikely to click the photo.

Intellectual property and copyright information can be obtained at several excellent websites, including Creative Commons and The Electronic Frontier Foundation. The latter has put together a helpful "Legal Guide for Bloggers," available online.

On a brighter note, today I had lunch with my husband at a Greek restaurant in Passy, then went to an art store for supplies - including papyrus - for crafts projects I'm planning. On the way home, I noticed a set of small books in the window of an antique shop. When I went in to inquire about the books, I was delighted to learn they were 18th-century from Belgium. So they came home with me. In accordance with the "whatever comes in, something goes out" rule, seven books will be leaving my apartment within the next two days. I'm planning to place them at various locations around Paris, to be discovered and hopefully enjoyed by others.

In my mailbox, this delightful hand-painted tin, accented by sequins and beads, as well as Alexandra Stoddard's book You Are Your Choices...

...and a surprise gift from my daughter's friend who spent Christmas with us: pecan pralines! I am mad about pralines and haven't had any since I last visited New Orleans. These are from River Street Sweets in Savannah, Ga. Such an unexpected treat!

Today is Groundhog's Day in the United States and it's my brother David's birthday. Happy birthday, David!

Share the Love Blog Awards

Voting for the Share the Love Blog Awards - created by Heather at One Woman's World - is now underway. I am thrilled to have been nominated in four categories: Best Writing, Most Thought-Provoking, Best Commenter and Blog You'll Never Stop Reading. And I am honoured to be in the excellent company of talented friends nominated in various categories, including:

Liz of Be Present Be Here
Britt of Britt Arnhild's House in the Woods
Frida of Frida's Notebook
Kerstin of Gipsy Life
Laini of Grow Wings
Alex of Gypsy Girl's Guide
Lisa of Heart of the Nest
Delia of Left-handed Trees
Alexandra of Marvelous Madness
Carol of Paris Breakfasts
Patry of Simply Wait
Asma of Spelling Tuesday
Amber of The Believing Soul
Tammy of The Daily Warrior
Terri of Tinker Art
Corey of Tongue in Cheek

Many other bloggers are nominated (that you may know and I don't). So won't you stop by One Woman's World to choose your favourites in each category? Voting to determine five finalists in each of ten categories concludes at midnight Tuesday, Feb. 6. Voters may vote only once in each category.

Finalists will be announced on Wednesday, Feb. 7. Final voting will then continue until midnight on Tuesday, Feb. 13. Winners and runners-up will be announced on Valentine's Day, February 14. So please help "Share the Love" and vote! Blogger has been experiencing problems today, so if the links don't connect, please try another time. Update Feb. 2: The voting software has encountered technical glitches, so please return later to One Woman's World to vote.