RIP Esther Williams

No, not the famous Hollywood swimming star.  Esther Williams was our pet goldfish who, we were just informed, has moved on to that great Fish Pond in the Sky.  CQH took the news rather hard.  She gasped audibly, then burst into tears straight away.  It was her first experience with real grief for a pet she cared about and loved.  And despite all our attempts to prepare her for the possibility that at least one of the pets might die while we're on Study Abroad, the reality was always going to be more harsh than our discussions in the abstract.  I (LBH) grieved as well, right along with C.  We hugged and cried together.  EBH didn't cry even though she later admitted that she was sad.  She just didn't think crying would help anyone feel better.  But the moment C burst into tears, E went over to the sofa, got C's favorite ted (Granddaddy Q Bear) and brought it over to her.  It was a tender moment for all of us.  Not much fun, but teaching a child about the reality of death is never fun.

After we'd cried for several minutes, E broke the pattern of muffle sobs by announcing, "Does anyone have any good news?"  We smiled through our tears.

Given the feelings of the moment, I decided to take some pictures of the plants and flowers we bought to brighten our Paris apartment.  The florists here are wonderful, the flowers are magnificent, and quite inexpensive, too.  These roses lasted nearly two weeks, and the little solanum that we put on the window sill added some color to the room, while giving us something to water every day.  (Nothing makes a place feel more like home than having a plant to take care of.)  And the girls decided that HDH needed some more roses, so we moved the pink ones to the kitchen window-sill and put the orange ones in the middle of the dining table.

In the afternoon I took myself off for a solo walk through Paris.  As I was walking past Notre Dame, it appeared that some nuns and the Monsignor were giving a guided tour to a group of Mennonites.  How ecumenical!

Sacre Coeur.  I went by myself, since HDH had seen it before and the girls were pretty much "churched" out by this stage of our stay.  (I've seen Sacre Coeur a few times before, as well, but the walk up the stairs is a good workout, and since this was the afternoon of the announcement of Esther Williams's demise I decided lighting a candle in a church might be a nice thing to do.  Of course, we've lit candles in every church we visited in Paris, but this one had more meaning for me.)