I had a weekday off so caught up on the personal maintenance stuff: nails, toes, hair color, Tulea got her grooming, then I took her to the Champ de Mars. Four years ago when I was in Paris for 10 days to promote my memoirs, I used to take to there because there are these huge long stretches of grass and she would run—when she is in the sand or on a big lawn, she runs really—I mean REALLY—fast, in wide circles, emitting a sort of low guttural sound. I figured she’d want to do it again today. The weather is gorgeous, finally. But no, she just stood there. Maybe it’s cause she was too warm. Maybe there were too many people. It was winter time last time. I hope it’s not because she’s too old—at 5 years. I doubt it, because in St Tropez she ran around in the sand.
She did have a good snooze at the Hotel Lancaster, though. In the nice, bright green, soft, cool, clover-like ground cover, while I had some delicious vin rose. I’ve quite taken to vin rose as I don’t drink red wine (and mostly not white either) because it gets to my stomach in the middle of the night and feels me with regrets. Ah, age!! Vodka works, though. Love the Polish kind with the Bison on the label and some stick of herb in it. And this isn’t just out of loyalty to Ted Turner (he owns the largest Bison herd in the world). It’s easier on the stomach. Of course, I could give up drinking altogether. Did once…for 3 years. But, as Ted used to say, you wake up and it’s downhill from there! Just kidding.
See you next time.
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