PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

Recent entries july 4, 2018 - 2018-07-04 the triangle continues of courtney, boobear, & nyota - 2018-07-03 Cookie so cute telling, "Hello" to sparrows - 2018-07-01 lovebirb in love - 2018-06-30 wren with fluffffff - 2018-06-24 Read my new book, The 10 Best Things You Can Do For Your Bird at Amazon or at many other fine distributors like Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and more. By public demand, and after a delay of an embarrassing number of years, I've finally put my notorious essay, Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman, free on the fabulous internets. A bibliography of my published books and stories. Here's a simple card-counting FAQ to get you up to speed on the basics. Here's the true story of the notorious DD' blackjack team, told for the first time on the fabulous internets. No other team went from a starting investor's bankroll of zero to winning millions of dollars. A Sadean take on Asimov's classic Three Laws of Robotics can be found in Roger Williams' NOW REVIEWED ON SLASHDOT!!! The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect. Adult readers only please -- explicit sex and violence. For updates on the "Dead Tree Project" and other topics, you may visit the official fan site, Passages in the Void.. My Bird Lists -- My Louisiana State Life List, My Yard List and, tah dah, My World Life List. HEY! What happened to the Peachfront Conure Files? The world's only OFFICIAL Peachfront Conure site now features free peachfront conure coverage, including a magazine length Intro to Conures previously published in American Cage-Bird Magazine, now free on the web. I offer the best free Peachfront Conure information on the internet. If you have great Peachfront Conure info, stories, or photos to share, contact me so I can publicize your pet, your breeding success, your great photograph, etc. on my site. Thanks.

part five: paris perfect! 2011-11-30 - 7:19 p.m. Peachfront's Note: You are reading part 5 of my crazy whirlwind city tour of London, Paris, and Vancouver. Click back a few pages to start with part 1. Or if you want to refresh your memory of the last episode, part 4, then click right here. Dinner at the Masala Zone, an English (or perhaps only a London) chain. It was cheap, and the service was both fast and attentive, but the food and the wine were meh. Saturday, November 26, 2011 Time to throw out my dirty laundry. I thought I'd mended the unlucky purse before the trip, but now I noticed that one of the straps was starting to detach. Enough. I consolidated my remaining supplies into my computer bag and tossed the purse. Walked around the corner to the Museum of Natural History. Did you really think I'd leave town without seeing Dippy? Hasn't happened yet. I thought to check my computer bag before I entered the museum but I was scratching my head, trying to remember if I'd ever seen a "cloakroom" there. Turns out it's all the way at the back of the main hall near the toilets and restaurant. My computer bag is no bigger than most people's backpacks, and the inspector didn't seem exercised that I was trying to bring in such a large bag. When I mentioned that I might like to check it, she actually sort of recommended against it: "They charge by the weight of the bag here, and I don't want you to get a shock." Mm-kay, I can take a friendly hint when it hits me on the back of the head with a baseball bat. So I carried my bag instead of checking it, and I was doubly glad that I'd discarded a lot of weight first thing that morning. Visited Dippy, visited the hall of dinosaurs, visited the mineral collection, mostly the Quartz specimens (of which they have an enormous number and variety) and some of the gemstones/decor items. Impressive as always, but for some reason the "mocha stone" (dendritic moss agate) items were a stand-out. And, of course, the Quartz crystals pull you in and then don't want to let you go with their infinite variety. Wait. Is that a pink one? Genuine Rose Quartz in crystalline form is so rare. And what's that? Quartz with a Malachite crust? And... But it was time to head to King's Cross St. Pancras to catch the Eurostar. When I was young, I remember hearing about that tunnel they were building under the ocean between France and England, and it sounded like it would never be done. And now it's just a fact of life, with people hopping back and forth between Paris and London to enjoy a holiday on a fine blue weekend. Security is a breeze -- more like a security check entering a courthouse as opposed to entering an airport -- and the lounge area has a bar, some coffee shops, and lots and lots of leather sofas. Also a couple of ATMs that offer to dispense pounds or euros without charging you the small fee....I lounged on one of the leather sofas and discovered why this particular sofa was unoccupied. It's because the sofa backing on it held a whiny American boy, college age, extremely needy, drunk and jet-lagged, who was crying on his cell phone to his buddy about what an awful trip he'd had from Cape Cod and how terrible London was and how he was terrified that he wouldn't be able to get from Paris Nord to his buddy's house and how he was this close to turning around and going straight home and... I admit it. He was better than most movies. This kid was truly helpless and hopeless. You have to pick me up, man, he kept repeating. I can't do this. I cannot get to your apartment by myself. I had a 5 hour layover and I went into London and I went into two pubs and nobody waited on me and I couldn't get table service and finally the girl told me I have to go to the bar and I can't do this, I can't do this. I have your American cigarettes but I'm this close to leaving them here in this lounge in London and going home. Good God. I can't imagine being so needy and if I was that needy, I can't imagine admitting it in a public arena where everyone can hear. What would your mother say? Man up, dude! When I got bored with eavesdropping, I went over to the table where the ladies were selling tickets, and I bought Paris Metro tickets, and then it was time to hit the road. Oh, and somewhere in there, I also bought a half of Guiness. I don't drink much beer/ale any more -- not that I ever did -- but it would almost seem disrespectful to leave England without having ever drunk a drop. swatch of fabric from an ancient 1970s shirt i discarded along the way, horrible style and cut, but i admit i'm sentimental about the whacky pattern so i took a final photo before i said good-bye I also meditated on why beer/ale is still sold in halves and pints, while wine is sold by 175/250 ml glass on the metric system, but I'm sure there's a fine historical/traditional reason for all that. So Eurostar (which is NOT mostly in the dark tunnel, as I had imagined, but mostly over a lovely sunny day and only a short tunnel interlude) and then some French guys stamp your passport, or pretend to, and then the Metro, and then the hotel to drop my bag. Priceline, you have outdone yourself. Last night, I'm in a cell the exact size of the bed mattress, without any frame to hold the mattress, and tonight I'm in a froo-froo room with a king-sized bed, fluffy robe, separate toilet and bathrooms -- and a three-sided mirror in that bathroom, refrigerator, room safe, tea and coffee maker, desk and table, an intimidating suite of electronics and outlets for all your froo-froo high-end business needs...this, my friends, was the Marriott Rive Gauche. Oh, and a lovely view of Paris from my 15th story window. Oh plus deaux, since there is no place to park in Paris, c'est magnifique that it's in walking distance of not one, but three Metro stations, and the rail station. Although it tickles the Space Age/1960s child in me that the froo-froo toiletries smell like nothing so much as a strong glass of Tang. Took the Metro to the Trocadero, and it turned 7 o'clock as I was walking up to view the Eiffel Tower, and it suddenly exploded in a sparkle of dancing snowflakes, and everybody screamed, Ahhhhhhhh! I was to learn that this happened, every hour, on the hour. Didn't remember that from before, but presumably it's a Christmas lights thing. Most impressive. Strolled down to the Seine. On my previous visit, the river was closed for repairs, but the repairs are done, and I bought a ticket for the night boat cruise. Words can't describe. They said that Paris viewed from the Seine is now a World Heritage Site, and I can well believe it. Spectacular view of many of the finest old buildings in Paris, and you can well understand that the lifeblood of the city for 2,000 years was, in fact, the river. Dinner really late. A quiche lorraine, a glass of red wine. Something you could cook at home and yet it was truly splendid. Of course, the late hour, the crisp night, and the fact of being in Paris couldn't help but make a delicious dish even more delicious. back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford