Everyone loves Paris

 

 Except me....  and I'm the one going back there to live. The grass is always greener, n'est-ce pas? L'herbe est toujours plus verte sur l'autre côté. 

D'ailleurs, just sitting and walking on the grass is one of the things I miss when I'm in Paris. The famous Tuileries Gardens are made of.... mud. The Bois de Boulogne is full of used condoms and dog shit. And in most parks, you can't sit on the grass.

Pelouse interdit means "don't sit on the grass." It literally means, "Lawn forbidden." Edna Saint Vincent Millay, a now unfashionable American poet (she rhymes), once famously replied to a scolding gendarme, "Mais Monsieur-- nous ne pelousons pas!"

Comments

[Laure]

Stop whining, will you? You're back in Paris, lucky girl, enjoy :)
Grass is always greener on the other side, but so are many other things...
That's the legacy of the serial expat, so embrace it.

[Sedulia]

Yeah, you're right, it could be worse!

[chrissoup]

Of all the things I encountered when I was an exchange student in 1963, I think that not being able to lie on the grass on a hot day in the Parc de la Tete d'Or in Lyon was one of the biggest surprises.

[Aimee]

I just spent the last hour catching up on your blog. Such. Nice surprise to see your feed pop up again. Welcome back. I have to admit that your blog was one I missed after you stopped writing for a while. Anyway... Glad to be reading your blog again. :)

[Sedulia]

Thanks Aimee! I love your blog too, even though I don't knit. I did once make a two-color nosewarmer-- that's as far I ever got....