A Saturday and a Sunday.

Well, we've moved into our appartement (apartment), gotten our metro passes for the month, gone to Carrefour (French Wal-Mart), twice, done a dry run to the Alliance Francaise, ate a whole baguette in less than 24 hours and are currently sitting in the hip, student section of Lyon (Bellecour), taking advantage of free Wi-Fi at MacDos (McDonalds).  

Church this morning was a barrage of kisses, one on each cheek.  I hated every moment of this and desperately wanted to sit down so it would stop.  Of course Liz, being the prudent cultural advisor she is, made me stand and receive kiss after kiss. 

Our appartement (apartment) has a loft with a mattress sitting on the floor of the loft.  This loft was added later, well after the building itself was built at the turn of the century.  That's the 19th century.  Well, whoever built this loft, did a very poor job of re-enforcing it, and, as a result, there is a compromised side.  Meaning that when you stand to one side it sinks down a couple of inches.  Me, being the chivalrous man I am, asked Liz to sleep on this "compromised side" for fear that my weight might actually make it fall.  At any rate, we made it through the night and are both doing well. 

Well, we're about to get our gouter (French equivalent of English tea time).  But don't worry, we'll go somewhere with more of a French ambiance than MacDos (McDonalds).

DW.

P.S.   Jessi, if you're reading this (Is anyone reading this?), the baggu you gave me for my birthday came in very handy at Carrefour since they refuse to give you a bag after you buy something.