Today's dog is not in Paris, but in Petaluma. This is Livvie, the rescue dog we adopted after our beloved Rita died last year. About this time when I'm away I start stalking stranger's dogs. Luckily for the dogs of Paris, our friend Jim took this photo of Livvie to keep me company. She has dirt on her nose, so she was undoubtably digging in something she shouldn't.
She's a good Skyper, too, and licks the phone when she hears me. I'll return, Livvie.
Paris in Petaluma? No, it's the Eiffel Tower of Sebastopol, near Petaluma.
It's curious which French products you can find easily in the States and which you must cart back with you. On an earlier trip to Paris I made the mistake of schlepping back some l'Occitane products and subsequently discovered I could buy them cheaper at the l'Occitane store in a nearby shopping center.
It's time to leave...we are being unceremoniously pushed, pulled back into the cold, cruel world of the US.
I'm back in Paris at the height of the crash. It's strange to be traveling abroad while the financial world is crumbling, but this trip was arranged more than 9 months ago, the airfare already paid for with frequent flier miles, the apartment arranged. The cafés are packed with young people, but those 'of a certain age' are fearful and ex-pats wonder if they can afford to stay here. It's reminiscent of the stories of ex-pats from Les Années Folles (the 1920's) when they all returned en masse in to the USA in 1929.
Meanwhile, I feel more at home here than I do in California. But is Petaluma the New Paris for me?
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