June 28, 2014

Along the Hudson.



I ran away from home tonight for an hour. Found myself along the Hudson - dipping my feet in the water. Climbed over a cement barrier and felt like Tom Sawyer - was glad for it, in the middle of New York. I watched the sky modulate and change its mind over and over in so many shades. Maybe the gauge of a good place to live is how often you get to watch the sun do that.



June 24, 2014

Picnic at City College.



Picnic across the street at City College with two little ladies on a blushing summer eve. Flowers in the nose, white bread + ham/cheese, beaming Romy sampling tiny dashes of applesauce and Colette sampling peanut M&M's, which unfortunately followed the path of the earlier flowers.











June 22, 2014

Moon child.

"Are you a moon child, Mommy?" Colette asked in a particularly poetic way. (Lovely book from the library). I don't know Colette, but you are.

  

June 18, 2014

June Light.


We love the spread of the June light.
Carries us through the evening and into the night,
even ganders past the blinds drawn for bed.

June 12, 2014

"You couped your cheveux, Papa."

Today there is a transportation strike in Paris. Not a surprise. Les grèves. I was giggling when I listened to French radio on my way to work this morning to hear that Uber's founder was actually inspired to create his company while in Paris during a transportation strike. Who says the French way of business stifles entrepreneurship? Ha!

Colette's French is getting hilarious: Xavier came home the other day with a haircut. Colette looked up at him and said, "You couped your cheveux, Papa!" (Love the English past tense formulation with the French verb). And last night, while swinging on our bed rail as if it were a set of monkey bars she proclaimed: "I lache down and saute up." Nice lache-ing and saute-ing, Colette.

June 7, 2014

June 5, 2014

Colette-isms this week.


(Featured here downdog-ing in Central Park)

Xavier went in to see Colette this morning when she woke up before he left for work. She immediately pronounced, "caca boudin" (a French potty-talk classic she must have absorbed from Marguerite) and shrieked with laughter at herself. At the end of their fruitful dialogue, Colette turned to Xavier and said, "Nice talking to you."

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