A NEW DECADE time to change something... what?

Happy New Year

from

me

and

the

geese.

CHRISTMAS DAY AND NIGHT

I spent a wonderful Christmas day at Iris'es house, just outside of Paris. We were twenty à table. Anne and Latecia, her daughters, did the preparation and many more were summoned to bring something. I, the only American, was marked for cranberry sauce.

I did some hunting and was warned that in Paris those wild Massachucettes berries are sold one by one.

I found two packets (origin USA) on la rue

des Abbesses at a small Morocan green grocer and prepared the sauce Christmas Eve before Mass and my Café visit. It seemed to be a hit, but everything was good and plentiful including the champagne.

I arrived home early evening and opened the windows to the courtyard right off so that Lucy and Miss Kitty could wander.

Then went back to work on a large abstract painting that I had started a couple of weeks ago.

I was startled when Miss Kitty arrived with my cadeau de Noel. No. not

a mouse, but a tinsel garland from the consierge's Christmas tree.

Six meters long.

I'm not afraid of my consierge. I am afraid to be on her bad side. I thought it was best to replace it in the dark. I stepped out and so did she. I wished her Merry Christmas, then confessed that Miss Kitty had stolen her decoration. She seemed not terribly upset. Perhaps she had had a nice Christmas Day also.

THE MONDAY IN BETWEEN

CHRISTMAS IN MONTMARTRE 1999

T’was the night before Christmas

And all through the house,

Kiki was stirring

In search of a mouse.

My paintings were hung

On high walls white,

In hope that a buyer

Was somewhere in sight.

Nina slept soundly,

Curled in her bed,

A tennis ball schredded

Tucked ‘neath her head.

Piles of bills, threats, disconnection

Lay on a box of lemon confection.

Was there no man to take me away

In a big Rolls, on foot, metro or sleigh?

Felix sat upright, with a menaceing stare

“Do something please. The cupbord is bare.”

No hope. No hope. Then a tap on the door.

“Who is it? I asked;

“It’s Oysters Galore.”

I opened the door slowly,

And saw the man smile.

“Come in. Sit down.” I said, “Stay for awhile.”

Then,

Monsieur Galore entered with zest.

“I’ve brought 106 of my very best."

"Don’t worry," he said.

“I have shrimp for the cats.

And for you this cold night,

Two Afgan wool hats.”

The oysters were opened gentley,

so the juice wouldn’t spill

And in two christal glasses,

White wine he did fill.

We ate and we drank.

Then we sank and we sank

into conversation other

than landlord or bank.

“Your paintings are so happy.

You should be too.

It’s sad for your friends

To see you so blue."

Before he left,

He washed all the dishes

Then gave me two

Big salty kisses.

"Good night dear lady,

I’ll see you again,

when I’ve found my sleigh

And you’ve found your pen."

SHOPPING

"Bags and Scarves"(33x41 cm) acrylic on canvas 2008

Yesterday, my little street in Montmartre was as crowed as Fifth Avenue the day before Christmas.(or the day after Christmas - (Big return - not my size day ) Missing - a loud speaker with Bing Crosby crooning "Silver Bells". I don't think it would work on the accordon.

The plastic shop, with silly gadjets made in China was the biggest hit. Followed by a pretty boutique with scarves and bags. (above)

Safe in my peaceful coatyard, I had but one visitor, my friend Linette. She bought one of my left-handed water colors. "Broken Promises."

TANGERINES

Bit into a tangerine today. Tasted like Christmas.

ANIMAL CRACKERS

It snowed in Paris this morning for fifteen and a half seconds. I saw it, because I had just opened my door ever so slightly so that Miss Kitty, now three and a half months old,would not slip out. She usually has freedom of passage to the courtyard, but, I had heard on the radio that there was an extreme drop in the temperature. She squeezed through anyway, but, stunned by the flakes came running back. " Meow! The snow is falling."