The 179th day in Sceaux France

It was a busy week, and a week with some personal accomplishments and moments of cultural connection.

This week, for the first time since I have ever been running, I ran over 7 miles on two consecutive workouts. I actually totaled over 15 miles for the two workouts, which is the most running I have ever done over three day period. Like I've said before, I'm not a terribly fast runner, I concentrate on form and distance. From this point on, the mileage gets longer very quickly. I am running to the Metro stop at Chattillon Montrouge, logically, my next step should be the end of the Coulee Verte in Montparnasse. But that means another 4 km, or 2.5 miles, each way. That means my mileage jumps from over 7 miles to over 12 miles. Of course, if I do a one-way run from where I live to the center of Paris, that would only be a 9 mile run. I could then catch the train to come back home. Nonetheless, I will celebrate my mileage gains as they stand, and not fret over the next step.

I took off of work a little early on Friday. I wanted to go into the market in Sceaux, look around, and visit some of my favorite shops: the butcher shop, the bakery, and whoever else had anything of interest. As I walked into the market, I was greeted by the most wonderful smell in the cool late afternoon air. I recognize the smell, it smelled of malt. To the left I spied a woman making waffles outside of her bakery. I kept walking, after all, that wasn't one of my bakeries. I went onto my bakeries to get some bread, and walked the rest of the way down the market. The market is now lined with evergreen trees in pots, ready to be decorated for Christmas. The setting sun and the cold air was a good reminder of the season that is coming upon us. I finished my shopping, and made my way back up the market. The smell of crepes was in the air. I spotted a young lady making crepes in front of the bakery at which she worked. It was one of the two bakeries I frequent. Steam was coming off of her grill as she lifted and flipped the crepes. The smell was too good, and the opportunity too rich, I stepped up to her, "Je voudrais un crepe avec buerre et sucre, s'il vous plait" (I would like a crepe with butter and sugar, if you please). She poured the batter onto the round grill, and then used a bladed device to smear the batter very thinly around the grill, using a circular motion. In less than a minute, she was sliding a long wooden spatula beneath the crepe and turning it. The crepe continue to cook for another minute, and then she carefully spread butter on to the crepe using the same spatula she used to turn it. As the butter melted, she sprinkled some sugar on to the crepe. She collected the two euros and thirty centimes from me and then proceeded to fold the crepe. It was hot, and had the smell of the holidays. Its taste was perfect, also.

Today, we had some sunshine, and I did my customary grocery shopping trip, and took another walk through the market. No, there were no crepes, I think that only happens in the late afternoon, but it was an opportunity to pick up a baguette and enjoy some rare sunshine.

Thanks for coming along,

Mark