So I was recently asked how many times a day do I say Fromage...odd question but it made me stop and thing about the stereotypes we have about France and by that I really me Paris. Even our view of France is a caricature of Paris and not actually the whole of France. Think France and you first think of the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, or maybe even the Arc d' Triomphe. We might think of the Champs-Elysee and almost always about the local bistrot where we sit at a table on the street and drink that very small cup of cafe.

But the reality of living in Paris is quite difference. I actually found myself today walking down the street and thinking I was glad the majority of tourists are gone. To be sure I live in a tourist trap part of town with the iconic Basilica of Sacre Couer and even the famed Moulin Rouge is just a short walk away so we are inundated with all kinds of tourists from all over the world and all ages. But even so...the sheer number of tourists is down.

I enjoy my new home...I like getting up in the morning and walking the three blocks up the street to my favorite Boulangerie for a fresh baguette and maybe if I feel indulgent and croissant or even a pain au chocolat. But the baguette fresh out of the over is still my favorite. It doesn't even make it home without losing at least an end to my impatience. Last week, as I was preparing a simple dinner of pasta and salad fresh bread sounded like the perfect accompaniment but alas we had not bought any that day. So I simply grabbed some lose change from the dresser and walked five minutes or less up the street.

That night was special, it was the first night since my big mess with the picket pocket that I felt relaxed again. I was living in Paris, not just visiting. I walked up the slowly emptying streets past the art nouveau metro stop at Abesses to Coquelicot, my favorite boulangerie. I passed the young mother who sits on the street outside the bank begging with her daughter and thought they looked kind and not despairing. I bought two baguettes and gave one to her as I passed her on the way home....it was fresh and warm and her daughter's eyes lit up as she took the bread from my hand. She thanked me in French, I responded in French, though probably told her that her liver looked great instead of "it is nothing." But that night Paris was my home...I did not feel like the tourist.

I walk these streets every day. I am coming ominously close to making my 10,000 steps each day. Not there yet but getting close. And the hills, why did I choose to live on the only hill in Paris? If you are not walking up the hill you are climbing stairs. It is all good in more ways than I can count, but still I am walking more than anytime since my early Disney days sweeping trash in Disneyland. And I am enjoying it. I love that autumn is coming. Some of the leaves are beginning to change and some are falling, just a few but enough to see the brown and gold leaves blowing in the gentle breezes on the cobblestone streets outside our apartment. Walking there in the morning or evening just at dusk is actually romantic in a sense...a cliche of Paris from the movies.

Tomorrow I will try that most difficult of all things in a foreign country...I am going to see if I can get a haircut. It is full of risk...high potential for disaster...but the worse thing that can happen is it has to grow back out, which it will anyway. If this doesn't work there are other shops and maybe next time my French will be better and I can explain the desired outcome better. But, if it works...if I can get across my goal in this endeavour...then maybe we will be set for a while and we will know where to go next time. If it works, I truly will be living in Paris and not just visiting.

So from here life is looking pretty good. We are feeling more and more at home and starting this week we become the grandparents we wanted to be as we take care of our two granddaughters while our son and daughter-in-law work. We have missed much of their lives because of the distance but now we live here, in Paris, and we are just Nana and Didi to two beautiful little girls. I am not French, won't ever be French, but for now Paris is my home and I am happy to be here.