Fete de la Musique

Last night was Fete de la Musique (accents to be added later), which is how France celebrates the Summer Solstice. Throughout the country, towns and neighborhoords organize free concerts. In Paris, bands set up in squares and parks, while seemingly anyone who wants to walks out on the street with a guitar or trumpet and stakes out a corner to play.

My friend Karin and I went into the city last night and walked from the Latin Quarter, around Ile de St. Louis and Ile d'Cite (more accents to be added), and then through the Louvre, up the Champs d'Elysees to the Arc d'Trimophe.

I have blisters.

Because of rain and because we're "old" (read: wanted to be home by midnight because we had morning meetings), we missed most of the music. We saw lots of people setting up earlier in the evening, but rain showers began around 8:00 and discouraged all but the most dedicated. As we were heading into the metro around 10:30, the weather was clearing up and I think the party was about to begin. I'm sorry we missed it, but it was a great night anyway. I had never truly appreciated the Tuileries Gardens before. I needed to sit at one of the cafes and enjoy a coffee by the statue pond to understand those rows of trees so precisely placed on the hardpacked dirt.

Work continues to be incredibly challenging and ridiculously frustrating. Circumstances are forcing me--sorta--into making some decisions about my future, and it's depressing me. I don't want to think about next year, because I have no idea where I want to be or what I want to be doing. I have ideas about what I don't want to do, but there's nothing positive coming through yet.

It's OK--I don't need to know yet, and God has always had wonderful surprises for me. I'm like those of you who open your Christmas gifts early and then rewrap them so that no one will know. Only the wrapping paper won't tear, and the tape won't come off. God has wrapped next year in duct tape and then smeared it with super-glue. I'm not getting a peek.