Back to school
In true French fashion we began class with Molière*, which lead circuitously to hypochondria and then on to how one expresses illness. Oddly, a phrase to describe someone who is always claiming to be unwell is, “Il a toujours un cil qui branle.” This translates very roughly as “He’s always got a masterbating eyelash.” I was quite pleased to know the definition of “se branler” from reading “Les petits oiseaux.” I’d been confident my new vocabulary would come in handy someday but would never have guessed I’d get to use it in class. Thank you, Ms. Nin.
After class I stopped to pick up a bottle of Port and got to try out a folding ramp I’d been eyeing. It was remarkably easy to use and the guy at the wine store both knew where the key was and how to operate it, the ramp not the key.
Heading home I passed Le cimetière du Montparnasse** at closing time. The guards where ringing their bells to warn stragglers to head for the exits. I find this ritual charming and strangely calming.
*Apropos of nothing, I love adding tags they’re like a crazy index.
**Le cimetière du Montparnasse is wheelchair accessible and there’s a wheelchair accessible restroom in the south-west corner of the upper part of the cemetery.