"Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things which matter least." (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

It has been freezing or below in Paris for two entire weeks.  My primroses are barely hanging on in my planter boxes.  The heat is turned up nearly to its maximum, but these single paned French windows are like tissue in their mullions (the primroses are grateful).

The lower level of the Luxembourg Gardens are completely shut down because of the snow, which has been on the ground for several days.  It is a hard winter in Paris.

I am not a sissy towards such weather -- I was born in Connecticut, where temperatures dip below Fahrenheit zero several times a winter.  But there, we are prepared with storm windows, parkas and whiskey in paper cups.

After coffee this morning, bundled up, we set out for BHV (Bazaar Hotel de Ville), to buy packing supplies for our paintings.  On the way we were sidetracked by the ice skating rink at City Hall (Hotel de Ville).  Something about the crisp temperature and the skate/dance music convinced us.  After a six year hiatus, we once again stood on skates.

There are two skating rinks in Paris, both free.  If you don't have skates one can rent them for 5 Euros.  The skates are sloppy, basketball shoe uppers, with figure skate blades.  I chose the wrong size, twice, but went ahead onto the ice.

There were the usual "stars" in the center of the rink, skating backwards, spinning, and pirouetting on their tips. I gingerly stepped out, as did Blair.  The ice was bad, with potholes and lumps -- melted ice refroze.

The girl at the counter warned us the rink was shutting down at noon.  "No problem".  It was not yet ten o'clock, and I envisioned a 30 minute maximum.  They were aware of "technical difficulties":  bright yellow pylons signifying a hole.

Holding hands we set off.  I could just get to that point where I felt I was "flying", pushing off with one foot to feel the glide and wind in my hair.  Bumpy ice and dull blades cut euphoria short.

Blair took a couple of turns on his own.  He's a pretty good skater, impressing me in years past with going backwards and making quick stops and turns.  We both have sisters stellar in the art of ice skating.  Next to them, we look like doddering old fools.

We turned in our skates, feeling very much healthier and continued on our route to the store. They were out of bubble wrap, but we didn't care.  Next week, we're going up to Montparnasse to try the rink there.



Laurie (painting and text) and Blair PESSEMIER
"Snow at the Luxembourg Gardens" acylic on linen 30.5 x 23 cm; 9 x 12 inches