Life at № 42 by E.M. Coutinho
SUMMER GIRLS ARE COMING!!!!! We’re more than thrilled. We’ve had no visitors since the pandemic began and it seems we’ll be making up for it this year. Mike’s brother and our sister-in-law also arrive in three weeks. They’re both fabulous. Last time they were here I was having a migraine that lasted three days and I didn’t want to say anything to not ruin the visit. One night we went to a restaurant that had the most awful spotlight shining straight at me. It was like being stabbed in the eye repeatedly. Remember when restaurants were dimly lit? I miss that. I’m sure it’ll be more pleasant this time around without the headache.
We’ve been getting around to things that have needed doing for a while. Summer Girl II’s bedroom has been wallpapered. There are new shades on the 1960’s Murano lamps. If you like the look, there’s a near identical set but with lucite bases on 1st Dibs. We’ve also changed the colour of the kitchen.
The same blue-grey as in the dining room. It’s given the room a more old fashioned look which makes for an interesting contrast with the modern cabinets. What we need now but haven’t decided on yet is a base for the central table which doesn’t wobble. The granite top is so heavy the metal base can’t quite keep it from wobbling if you lean on it at the moment. That makes chopping on it a dangerous undertaking.
In other news we’ve had the hottest May on record in France. It was thoroughly unpleasant. The weather changes have made it so the mustard seed crop of the past year has been halved. This has translated to a mustard shortage in the entire country. You can still get it online but for 3 to 5 times the normal price. Until there’s a shortage, you don’t realise how often you use something. This is just the beginning, isn’t it? I could be wrong but I’m guessing we’ll see major collapses in the next couple of years. Smaller crops, regular shortages, rising prices, more hunger in the developing world — which in turn will drive more migrants to try to flee their home countries.
But to end on a pleasant note, here’s the Parc de la Moliere where we sometimes walk the dogs.