F Train to Paris

In which a Jewish family from Brooklyn moves to Paris, France for two years of work, school, and adventures.

On Saturday afternoon, I experienced the most frightening moment of my life. As I watched from the next room, the kitchen door came right off its hinges and crashed down on top of 6-year-old E., who had just yanked it open. The door is at least 8 feet tall, solid wood, and extremely heavy. I virtually flew across the room and lifted the door off my child, having no idea what I would find underneath. Thank God, E. was fine. He was terrified, and had a little trouble breathing at first, but aside from a few scratches he seemed unhurt. His glasses weren't even broken. I took him to the emergency room at Necker Children's Hospital anyway, because we were worried about internal injuries.

I also thought his hand might have been broken, because he held it gingerly all the way to the hospital. In fact, the doctors checked him out and sent him home with a clean bill of health. No one could believe he escaped with nothing more than a scratch on his shoulder and a scrape on his finger. By then, he had completely recovered his spirits, and I took him straight to a birthday party, where he danced and played all afternoon. I stayed to keep an eye on him--he might have recovered, but I certainly hadn't. (I'm just beginning to be able to look at him without getting tears in my eyes.)

The party was at a beautiful chocolate store/salon de the on the avenue Victor Hugo called Boissier. The food was fabulous--they had platters of macarons, fancy artisanal marshmellows (like no marshmellows you've ever tasted), and other treats, all of them way too good for the kids. The birthday boy's parents were very kind to me and didn't make me feel uncomfortable, although the only other adults around were relatives.

So, life goes on. I keep reliving seeing that door fall on him, but I guess eventually I'll get past that.

On Sunday, we went to the Ferme de Gally, a farm near Versailles where you can pick your own fruits and vegetables. We took a wheelbarrow and loaded it up with swiss chard, spinach, onions, lettuce, rhubarb, and a few peapods--the birds had eaten most of them. After we paid for our produce (about 10 euros for everything!), we drove down the road to another part of the farm, where they keep the animals and hold children's workshops in breadbaking, butter churning, and other farm activities. We had hoped to sign E. up for butter churning, but the workshop was full. So we visited the donkey, pigs, sheep, and cows, and walked on a little nature trail through the woods. As we made our way back to the entrance, a flock of goats came wandering right down the road, including hugely pregnant moms, and several adorable new  babies. The adult goats presented themselves for petting (clearly they were used to humans) but the babies were freaked out by all the attention.

Yesterday I gave myself a break--after dropping E. off at school, I took myself out for coffee at Eric Kayser and read Middlemarch for literary salon, went to a dance class, and did some grocery shopping (I found myself buying lots of junk food).

Today, I had a fabulous lunch with two friends at Vegetable, a temporary restaurant that's open through next week on the third floor of Printemps Maison. The chef is Alain Passard, and the food--totally vegetarian--is straight off the menu at his three star, ultra-expensive restaurant, Arpege, but at a fraction of the price. I read about it on Clothilde's blog, and am grateful to her for steering me there. If you're in Paris, go right away!

Ralph and I just got home from a concert at the Theatre du Chatelet, a beautiful 19th century theater not far from the Louvre, right across from the Place du Chatelet fountains. The Philharmonia Orchestra, conducted by Sir Andrew Davis, played Sibelius, Richard Strauss, and Beethoven. It was a lovely concert.

But lest you think that my life is entirely about gourmet food and high culture (when I'm not rescuing children pinned under doors), I spent the rest of the day doing freelance editing, volunteering at the Eurecole library, and taking R. to the orthodontist.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 22:01 | link | comments (4) |

Comments:

#1  25 May 2005 - 00:09

 

I almost cut my fingers off when I was a baby and my mom had to bring me to the hospital to stitch it back. Luckily my fingers are still there though it still sometimes hurt. I can feel something is inside.

milktea

#2  29 May 2005 - 06:02

 

The door incident sounds terrible. I'm glad E wasn't hurt. Those doors are so heavy. The Boissiere party sounds fun. I'm always amazed at the places you can have a kid's party in town. You did so many great things this week! This Vegetable place sounds great. Did you need reservations?

Anonymous

#3  29 May 2005 - 06:05

 

Forgot to say... Happy Mother's Day!

Anonymous

#4  30 May 2005 - 08:35

 

Thanks for the supportive comments. I am feeling much better, too.

The Vegetable resto doesn't take reservations. Go at noon, and you'll be fine.

pariskleinmans

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