Gratitude Monday: taking a breather

Well, look who it is. In France.

Lyon, to be exact.

Why France?

For the otters, of course!

No, jk—I went to Singapore for the otters. There may be otters here—I am situated between two rivers—but I came mostly to not be at home. I mean, that’s not why I planned the trip, back in June. But after recent events at work, I’m glad I had this escape in my back pocket because I need it.

I wrote about the work events a couple of weeks ago. My plan was to use the next few months to actively seek the right place for me to be, either in the megalithic software company or somewhere else. Most of all I was going to be positive and to think of this as an opportunity, not a disaster.

I thought I had it in hand, but clearly not.

Particularly last week, when I ran into colleagues at a conference my company sponsored, when they’d ask, “How are you doing, [Bas Bleu]?” my visceral response was to scream, “Do you not see me hemorrhaging blood from the great sucking chest wound I have?”

Yeah, clearly not.

So this trip—two weeks in Roman France and Paris—is an opportunity for me to step back, step away, consider my options and breathe. Most of all, it’s that breathing I need to do. I feel brittle and like I’ve forgot how to do that.

I’m grateful for this opportunity—grateful that I already had the trip planned; grateful that I changed the timing from beginning October to beginning November (because of the company conference) so I have more focus on what I need to do; grateful that I don’t feel the need to be constantly on the move and can plomp myself down on a bench and just breathe; grateful that if tears start streaming out of my eyes, I don’t have to do any explaining.

Here are a couple of pix of my first days in Lyon.

As I plomped myself down on a bench on my way to Les Halles de Lyon yesterday, I noticed this couple out on their balcony:

On my way back to the hotel after Saturday dinner, here was the basilica lighted up across the Rhône:

(BTW: I climbed up to that basilica earlier in the day. Google Fit allowed me the steps but claimed I hadn’t earned but about nine “heart points”. God give me strength.)

Here’s that view during the day:

Prepare for two weeks of breathing.

 

 

The fun was loud and hearty

Since Monday is Halloween, we should have something kinda spooky for our Friday earworm, no?

Yeah—let’s hear from Louis Armstrong. That’ll get us in the mood.

 

 

Shadows of summer

Okay, here’s another form of sidewalk art.

I’ve already written about how beautiful fallen leaves can be on the sidewalk, but it turns out that they leave their penumbra on the pavement long after they’ve disappeared. I don’t know what causes this, but I feel like the imprint lasts a long time. They mostly appear to be maple leaves, but there are some other types, too.

And I realized that even pine needles leave their mark.

Amazing.

 

 

 

More street art

I’ve written before about sidewalk artists around the ‘hood—here, and here, and here and here. But there’s a new chalker in town.

A pretty impressive one.

 

Scary times

I may have remarked upon it before, but folks here in the People’s Republic would lose in a neighborhood Halloween decoration contest to residents of the Valley They Call Silicon. I mean—my recollections of the Bay Area are that those people go all out on their yard prep. Viz: here and here and here and here.

This is not to say that they don’t try here. There’s just not the skeleton or zombie count I grew accustomed to.

Still, the ‘hood does represent.

My neighbors put out this trio every year.

But I notice Frankie sometimes gets a little tired by morning.

Also, something new this year:

Lights and action:

I like how even the squirrels get into the act. Because you knew they would.