May 3
Dear Liza,
In case you are wondering, yes, there is a two day lag between the day I do something and the day I write about it. I can’t seem to get a blog written the same day I do the things! I guess I need processing time.
The other day Auntie Bridgett and I wanted to explore, and decided to go hunting for the Rhône again. We walked due west again and found Place du Maréchal Lyautey, where fellows were still playing pétanque and the fountain was spouting.
But instead of turning around, we made a sharp right turn and followed the path along the river.
This path is really three paths, at different levels. The street level has lots of traffic, and is not for us. The next one down is a bit quieter and has mostly bikes on it. And the third paved path, closest to the river, is mostly walkers. And dogs.
On this path, we were just a few yards from the Rhône River, and we saw yet another path… a dirt one that weaves in and out of the trees that grow on the banks.
I was so overcome at where we were, what we were walking beside, and how lovely it all was, that I barely noticed this super friendly Doberman dashing about like a kid just out of school. Everyone was enjoying all the dog joy she was sharing.
We continued along the river, cool and comfortable in the shade of the Plane and Cottonwood trees, until we reached Rue de Les Belges. This very busy street forms the south edge of the Parc de la Tête d’Or, that we visited the other day. There was another grand gate into the parc, a carrousel, and a monument to local men who had died in the First World War.
We were a bit winded, having come more than a mile, so we stopped for a snack bar and some water. It was time to head home, taking the route through town, to pick up some wine and ice cream… more about that later.
And of course, we ran into some more art! This statue of Joan of Arc (called Jean d’Arc in this part of the world) was sculpted in 1928 by Jean Chorel. Auntie Bridgett has become fascinated by Joan and her story, and she just keeps turning up.
We got home for dinner, and we had brought the ice cream and wine in hopes that Grandpa Nelson could enjoy some of his birthday, but no luck. He got up long enough to eat and have a glass, chat with you and the family, and head right back to bed.
Tomorrow will show improvement, I am sure.
Love,
Grandma Judy
Dear Liza 