The day after my best friend Melba got married, I had a lot of cleaning to do.
     In an attempt to forget my morning-after aversion to light and sound, I made the following to-do list:

• Rent steam cleaner for basement room.
• Wash walls.
• Clean and disinfect gross bathroom downstairs.
• Wash curtains in pool room.
• Wash (or burn) bedding from downstairs.
• Call doctor about raccoon bites.

     In honor of Melba’s marriage, here’s one of her favorite cartoons, “Face Like A Frog”.

Click on the link below to watch a surreal cartoon by Sally Cruikshank, with music by Danny Elfman (notably the song, "Don't Go In The Basement").

\”Face Like A Frog\” by Sally Cruikshank, music by Danny Elfman

From September 2006 to January 2007, I lived in Rouen, France: a historic city located in Northern Normandy, famous for its medieval, half-timbered buildings; Rouen Cathedral; the holy site where Jeanne D’Arc was burnt at the stake.

Newly graduated from University with a BA in English, I was in France to teach English to French schoolchildren.

I rented an apartment in Rouen, 15 Rue de la Republique, a busy cobblestone street, surrounded by half-timbered medieval architecture and the Gaumont, a modern movieplex.
I lived five-flights up. Once free from the creeping, musty elevator, there was a surprise: I unlocked my door for the first time to discover that I lived in a penthouse!

I was lucky. My apartment had a spacious amber and amethyst-hued salon: one wall of which was lined with outwardly- opening windows: perfect for breakfasts of apple tartes with cafe creme.

The salon was equipped with a small library, a non-working radio, several languorous lounges, velveteen armchairs, and a painted privacy-screen used during an afternoon nap (induced by a Sunday of Satie), or employed as an after-dinner boudoir for muffled caresses.

Divided from the salon by a narrow yellow hall, was the kitchen, toilet-room, bathroom, and my bedroom.

My bedroom was unremarkable — except for the view. I had two huge windows which afforded a panoramic feast: a sliver of the Seine topped off by the looming Rouen Cathedral.
Looking out of my bedroom-windows at night, I stared at the cathedral, its steeple lit up after sunset. The locals refer to it as “La Flech”, the arrow, luminous, aimed fearlessly into the night.

This weblog aspires only to share with my readers some such illuminated arrows.

Lafleche