Our neighbor has STOPPED playing the piano.  There is rumor of a violin, which would certainly make us move at least as far away as Alexandria.  The big palomba pigeons are arriving from there right now, to spend the summer in Paris.  These pigeons migrate from North Africa in March, and leave in October.   A huge flock landed in the Luxembourg Gardens, making the oddest sort of clicking noises when I was painting.  "Hip hip hooray, we're here".

My camellias have bloomed, in just these past 10 days of warm weather.  All of my pink primroses failed in the frost, but the blues, purples and multicolors continue.

It has been a week of flowers, beginning with boxwood on Palm Sunday.  There are stands outside St. Sulpice on the Sunday before Easter, selling sprigs of fresh green boxwood (the French version of the palm).  The sellers vary, from country families -- father and son, to older women, to the inevitable gypsy.  We bought daffodils from a gypsy clad in several skirts and a babushka; she smiled to reveal at least four gold teeth.  We got three bunches of flowers for five euros, so I could give one to Nicole and another to Mme. Garcia, a concierge friend.

Blair painted a portrait of Toby, Mme. G's Jack Russell terrier.  She and Toby used to live across the street from us on rue de Lille.  She was a concierge for a large family estate there -- the patriarch of the family was a famous portrait artist whose work is in the Louvre.  Mme. Garcia moved to our new neighborhood shortly after we did (those people were crazy, she told us).

Blair has a commission to paint the portrait of a nearby hotelier.  M. has that marvelous deadpan expression, a specialty of hotel managers.  As our old friend Doug (a hotel manager) used to say, "if there's a naked man with a chain saw running through the lobby, we just act like it happens everyday."  They let us hang two of our paintings in their lobby.

Hospitality is a French specialty: Character, Courtesy, Calm, Charm and Cuisine (the motto of Relais et Chateaux).  I read this marvelous platitude while hiding in a restroom after an argument with a friend, in the Metz region.  Several years ago, we had an robust yelling match, as the entire staff of the restaurant peeked through the kitchen door.  The proprietor came out and offered us soup, which he must have considered soothing.  That same friend is coming to visit on Monday, and we plan a motor trip to Italy.

We visited several cafes this week, seeking interiors for Blair to paint.  We had elegant drinks in horn-shaped glasses at the Brasserie Lipp, as Blair (not so) discreetly took photos.  We looked in at Procope, the Relais Odeon, and several others, where beautifully turned-out waiters received us.  Tourists have been hard to come by.

There are many more Americans in Paris this week.  We met several at the restaurant, and have invited a group of four to share our Easter table.  I found pigeons at the market this morning, which I will prepare with kumquats.

Laurie (painting and text) and Blair PESSEMIER
"Daffodils on a dark background" acrylic on wood; 6 x10 inches