Dreaming of Christmas In Paris


It snowed a little today and as I sat curled up by the widow, snuggled in my patchwork quilt, thoughts of Christmas danced through my head. Oh là là. How I'd love to see the city lit up for such a beautiful holiday. I looked in my scrapbook of dreams and am sharing my photos from my travel agent with you! 
                                                       Joyeux Noël,
                                                       Miss April In Paris

 Christmas in Paris - So Very Romantic

Frenchy Miss April In Paris Talks About The City Of Holiday Lights And Romantic Places To Visit.

The majestic Avenue des Champs-Elysées is flooded with lights every winter, with light-drenched trees stretching all the way from the Place de l'Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde.

The Christmas Markets, with their iconic clusters of wood chalets, offer custom holiday treats like mulled wine, gingerbread, sausages and specialties from various regions of France are a favorite place of dreams for a dog with a refined palate.

I love ice skating, but my paws feel strange in skates, but in Paris I would try! Several ice-skating rinks are set up around the city of light for the holidays-- with free entry and 5 Euro rental for skates (no charge for kids). A sledding area is available for children at the Hotel de Ville rink.

Paris’ Notre Dame Cathedral is the most stunning gothic cathedral in the world and I would end my visit with a service there.

bonne année from Miss April In Paris!

Playing French Maid For Halloween

Oui! This photo looks so much like my friend Chloe. She would look lovely in a French Maid costume for Halloween. Wishing a Happy Halloween to all. Love, Miss April In Paris

Paris Beach on the Seine River

Dear Diary, another Paris article to paste in my scrapbook. Oh, but one day I will visit.....
Paris in August is a dreamscape, an empty limbo, a city slightly askew. The streets resemble something from a Giorgio de Chirio canvas, the surrealist painter famous for barren cityscapes casting long shadows on empty spaces. The famous monuments of Paris are still here, the bridges and old buildings still occupy their places. The masterpieces of art still hang in the museums. But the outdoor market stalls are almost empty, and many cafés and restaurants are closed. Even free grocery delivery from the local supermarkets is suspended.
This is the time for congrés annuels, the yearly vacation when everyone leaves for the month for the South of France, Corsica or the Brittany coast. For those left here, there are the parks and movies or perhaps a weekend trip outside to the country.
And of course there is Paris Plage, Paris Beach.
To an American, Paris Plage might seem a little bizarre. Tons of sand are trucked into the city and dumped into the blockaded streets along the river. Even palm trees are shipped in. Beach umbrellas and chairs are set up facing the water. There are a number of ice cream stands, crêperies, restaurants and newsstands lining the river. There’s a book stall and a postcard stand where you can buy something to read or send holiday greetings to your wealthy relatives vacationing in the Midi. On the great square in front of the Hôtel de Ville badminton courts have been set up.
Further down along the river kids play the game of boules, tossing silver balls in the sand. Misting showers cool down the crowds. One can even rent a fishing pole and cast a line into the Seine, but heaven knows what you’d catch other than some curious glances and sunstroke.
Along with the food and activities are street musicians and clowns. There’s even Papy Dance, an older gentleman with a small sound speaker, jigging and “getting down” to Michael Jackson’s “I’m Bad.”
But of course the main activity is the beach itself, where you can bring a blanket, towel, a sandwich and friends, and sun yourself. Parisians are sun-worshipers. Everyone from 3 to 83 is out in the sunshine in every state of dress — or undress, in some cases — faces the sky, lapping up every ray possible.

My deck reminds me of hot beaches and I dream someday of visiting Paris Plage. Oui.

Paris Plage in many ways is corny. It’s a half-baked attempt to bring a little of the seaside to the middle of a great city. But people seem to love it, and it’s a safe and secure place to take some time out. It costs nothing to get in. The city of Paris picks up the tab. (Thanks to Doug Cushman for this article on the web).

I am dreaming of sitting under a blue umbrella.

.

Oh La La! Dreaming is so much fun!

Finding French Treasures

Dear Diary,

I've gone through my Paris Hope Chest and found my hidden treasures. I forgot I had so many things tucked away. They were under the box of milkbones so no one will find them. Oh how I dream of Paris.

I know I will look as lovely as this lady if I wore that darling hat. And I can keep it in my vintage French hat box. Oui.

And some decals for my luggage.

My journal where I'll keep my notes on my sightseeing trips.

My Paris Opera House Glasses

I will smell simply lovely with my little French perfumes.

And when the sun is so bright on the Champs-Élysées I have my vintage JEAN LAFONT sunglasses to protect my dainty eyes.

Time for a little rest on my favorite Moulin Rouge pillow.

Bon au revoir.

Je vous aime.

Miss April In Paris

Roses at Monet's Garden

This lovely vintage rose post card reminds Miss April In Paris of Monet's Gardens. Top on her list of places to visit as she dreams of Paris.

Miss April In Paris loves gardens. Her favorite garden is the romantic and lush garden of Claude Monet at Giverny, near Paris. Monet had a small rose garden hidden between his home and a row of linden trees. Almost a secret garden as few visitors find this charming area. The path leads nowhere. It used to be the way to Monet's second studio. The roses bloom at their peak in May and June.

A Dog Dreams Of Shopping In Paris

A charming shop for dogs, Un chien dans le Marais, A Dog In The Marsh. Most certainly April In Paris has sweet dreams on their yummy dog bones.

http://www.unchiendanslemarais.com/

French For Dogs, Lesson No. 1

Dear Diary, Tuesday

Suddenly A Diva

April was a quiet unassuming dog. She stayed in the background. She was number six to come to my house. The first time she pushed her nose through the mass of dogs by my side, I held her face, looked deep into those dark eyes of hers and whispered, April, I hardly know you. Who is this sweet dog that was my last rescue dog, coming to live with me the first week of January? I wanted her to feel special, so I started calling her April In Paris. She comes to that name. I sing her favorite song, April In Paris to her.

I never knew the charm of spring

I never met it face to face

I never knew my heart could sing

I never missed a warm embrace

Til April In Paris

Whom can I run to

What have you done to my heart?

Easter Sunday I placed a hat on her, a simple gesture, for a photo of her for my blog, Confessions Of The Unfaithful Widow. That vintage hat sitting so jauntily on her head, a pink silk rose off to the side. I saw the change in her. Or perhaps I saw her for the first time. She was glamourous.  She looked at me with wise eyes and I knew she had a story to share. She asked for her own blog. How could I refuse? She keeps a diary, not of her life at home, but of her dreams of visiting Paris.  A city full of glamour that matches her own. A quiet dog that once lived in a pen full of other street dogs lives in the city of lights, Paris, in her sleeping hours.  Her diary entries follow her dreams.

clip art from the web