I want to see this movie.

Especially as I now actually live on the 6th floor of one of these places.


One thought on “

  1. searching in vain for a non-sycophantic way to express myself… I am a great great fan of your blog and I wish so much that you’d come to Paris to nanny in 2010 because then perhaps after a working week of picking my employer’s lace thongs off the floor and labouring in vain to serve steak haché that was still bloody enough to satisfy her daughters you could have befriended me and then perhaps there wouldn’t have been quite so much of a rift between my daytimes of Dorothy Day and elevated thoughts in Chartres Cathedral and nights of occasionally drinking enough wine to join in discussions about Nietzsche but mostly … losing sight of my feminine genius in various sticky floored bars and squats.

    If I can ever offer any advice on enjoying the city, making chambre de bonne life a little more dignified, negotiating life as a live in servant etc, I would be delighted to recount the glory days!

    Final anecdote for you – the older of the girls I was looking after went into a flurry of c.19th sentimental zeal for the feast of the Immaculate Conception and recruited her little sister into saying 50 hail marys each night before bed. On getting to ‘priez pour nous pauvre pêcheurs’ little sister interrupted, ‘what’s all this stuff about fishers!?’ and elder patiently explained. that ‘c’est pauvre pêcheurs, pas pauvre pêcheurs’. [poor sinners, not poor fishers] A bit later the little sister called out again, ‘mais Emilieee, on est PAS pauvre, on est riche!’

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