Cracker jacks, a loud boom and a crutch

I am trying to wake myself, two coffee's later...

sluggish after having long afternoon that spilled into the evening. With hour upon hour of over consumption of red wine and food. 

I had a pot luck to go to yesterday before attending an evening concert. We watched standing, along with the gigantic crowd as Florence and the Machine dazzled the audience. She was excellent, her voice boomed across the open air. She ran around the stage bare footed, raising her hands and playing her fingers in the wind as if she was playing the world. Her talent seemed so raw and her movements naturally flowing... 

 The host for the pot luck requested that I bring something sweet. I am relatively newish to the kitchen. I could make food, just food, and enough to sustain someone.  For many years it was just made simple, bland items. I grew up in a family that lived on meat and potatoes. The only herbs in the house... salt and maybe pepper. I raised myself on k.d and tomato soup in the can.  As an adult I set a goals a few years ago that I wanted to be an excellent cook, and hostess.
My new mate, who I have nicked named "Peanut", is such a foodie that I am driven to exploring even more challenging dishes to make and to eat. I like to use what is in the house and I like the challenge of searching out a recipe that uses the items in the kitchen.  So I had popcorn, brown sugar, butter, nuts, vanilla extract, corn syrup, salt and these items turned out to be all the ingredients needed to make cracker jack... and it was so easy ... they concert going eat it, I got a thumbs up... success!? At least it looked pretty.

When we traveled the southern areas of France we eat a lot of seafood. Our plates were filled with oysters, shrimp, mussels and snails. One morning we woke too late and had a hard time finding breakfast, so seafood became our stand in for eggs and bacon. I eat snails steamed, and baked in heavy sauces. The steamed snails seemed to move and I feared that they were still alive... this alone was a big stretch for me, I had been a vegetarian for 5 years of my life. Yet there I was pulling out little bodies from the shell skillfully. I had to think less about it, where they came from, how they got to my plate and pop those little delicacies into my mouth.

  At the potluck I knew that out of the 15 people that were to attend, two I knew well enough to call friends.  Peanut picked out the mug for me above, "Little Miss. Chatterbox", ironically  I am often shy and quiet when I first get introduced to new people. Peanut sent me a text and challenged me to mingle. I took the challenge and started talking and out of this group, 2 individuals, separate from each other, were heading to France.  I was so happy that I got to talk about France with others who were excited to go. I suggested that they eat everything they can, drink wine daily (it is cheaper then pop or water). Find some time to sit chairs facing out into the parks or a cafe and watch the action, the buzz of life passing by. The energy that Van Gough painted in his strokes around the stars. Drink in the magic... be present.


 However my best advice was walk like your marching, the sidewalks are very uneven, there are unexpected steps everywhere. I learned this the hard way as I made a graceful exit off a train outside of Paris. Most people shop in Paris and buy beautiful dresses, purses and shoes. I brought home two bottles of French wine, macaroons and a pair of silver and white crutches! However, they did come in handy.  (I will get to that on later date)

I am still recovering, my right foot still needing to be bandage up. Thankfully not broken just injured and a little embarrassed.  Peanut was fabulous and patient as I hobbled around the streets of Paris. Returning home still unable to get back into every day life... I miss the gym, boot camp, my goal of hitting the exercise hard after eating our way through the south of Franc has been put on hold.  My right foot is still looking like a pig foot. My foot, as hard as I try will not squeeze back into my heels. Crazy as it sounds I do miss them... colorful, beautiful summer heels. One day soon we will be reunited.

So here I am day two, still with a hobble in my step looking for inspiration and creative enthusiasm to ignite me into action. I have a list of "To Do's"... having so much time on my hands requires one, its to easy to simple do nothing at all, to simple sit and stare off into the abyss. I plan to make the most out of my 29 days of freedom left. To continue my Paris like summer... coffee shops, art, good food and wine and being inspired by the moments.