When it rains in Paris, one is put in mind of the 1955 "Rififi" more than the 2011 "Midnight in Paris." Black and white and wet all over. Undaunted (I am a Seattleite after all), I walked over to the Mauberg Saturday market where, as promised, I found an enormous variety of market stalls (Pike Place without the panache): fresh oysters, cheese of every description, dried fruit and nuts, fresh fruits and vegetables, smoked and fresh meats, and more in profusion.  Plus a few stalls featuring bits of jewelry and antiques.  It was great fun and I managed to acquire a small piece of cheese that was, in my broken French, not too hard, not too strong (in other words, just right).  I was indifferent, I told the lovely young woman who waited on me, as to whether it was goat or cow -- and I still don't know which I got.

I had hoped to follow the theme of the day and attend a screening of a 1949 American film noir at the little Action Christine Theater off the rue des Grands Augustins in the afternoon, but -- mon dieu! - I couldn't keep my eyes open and opted for a nap instead.  That left me more than ready for this evening's concert at the Église Julien-le-Pauvre, which is just a block away from my apartment.

The altar of St.Julien-le-Pauvre

As the oldest church in Paris, it has had quite a history.  It was rebuilt in the Norman style in the 11th century and served as a salt warehouse during and after the revolution.  Since 1889, it has been a Greek Melkite Catholic Church.  Whatever it's history, it has beautiful acoustics and was a perfect setting for a concert of piano pieces by Beethoven and Chopin performed by one of Paris' own stars, Jean-Chrisophe Millot.  Among the pieces he performed was Claire de Lune and I felt strongly that Lloyd was somehow with me in the little church, urging me to move forward, as he always has.

Christmas tree at Notre Dame

After the concert, it was necessary to see if the (reputedly) hideous Russian Christmas tree still graces the front of Notre Dame (it does).  I leave you to decide whether it deserves its reputation.

And, of course, I couldn't resist the temptation to make sure that Shakespeare & Co. is alive and well on the banks of the Seine.  Happy to report, it is -- and as full of books as ever!