The 14th of July also means fireworks. I like that. It is beautiful to watch. I remember when I was a child we used to spend the Summer holidays in the South Ouest of France and each year we would go and watch the fireworks. But the first time I went, I was very little and I was so scared I cried the whole time.
The fireworks they have in Paris for the 14th of July are amazing. But to see them is another story. You have to go to the Champs de Mars near the Eiffel Tower where the show takes place, but to get there is almost impossible and to go back home forget it. So when my man asked me if I wanted to go, I said no thanks. I could see us struggling to get in a super crowded metro, and then walking back home at 2 o'clock in the morning. So no thanks. Earl has a friend who happens to live right in front of the Eiffel Tower - Can you imagine that? - and who invited us over to watch the fireworks. I still said no thanks. No metro, no taxi, a baby, a ten-year-old girl and my tired self: not a good idea. In the end my man went there alone while I stayed at home with the kids. After my baby went to sleep, me and Florina stayed in the kitchen to eat crèpes with Nutella and play Puissance 4. That was a fun and quiet 14th of July.
My man went to his friend's, and he brought us these pictures:
|Some people actually have this view|
from their living room window. Wow.
|The queen of Paris.|
|A touch of fireworks...|
|The Hotel de Ville all dressed in "bleu blanc rouge".|
|Old French soldier costume.|
PS: I don't want to bitch about people, but why is it that the richest women get, the biggest their jewels look and the more their faces are pulled behind their ears?