Goodblognight To You

photo, ile st louis The Ile Saint–Louis under a winter sky.

Orange Alert!

by Ric Erickson

Paris, Saturday, 25. February:– Before I tell you what a mess I am having I guess you will want to know about the weather. Don't cry for what you missed because it was horrible. It was horrible like it's horrible right now. It is the most horrible winter in Paris for decades, silver anniversaries, practically of all time – certainly as bad as the terrible winter of 1947.

Wait, there's more! Tomorrow the man from the Météo has promised us a Orange Alert for right here in downtown Rivieraville. It is going to snow. If it doesn't snow it will sleet. If there's no sleet, it will still be crummy because there'll be a wind from the northwest, from lurking icebergs near Iceland. Even if you are sitting under a frond in Florida you should put on a muffler, so as not to void your health insurance!

Tomorrow's temperature has been forecast as having a high of 5 degrees. This was the forecast for Sunday too when it was a half of one degree. Trust me, don't trust five. Well, hm, after noon it may not be snowing so much because it is to be blown towards the southeast, towards some other poor beggars.

So while snow is just as iffy as on days with no Orange Alert or in summer, this ghastliness carries over to Wednesday, without mentioning the wind, but with a temperature forecast of 4 degrees. You may not think 4 degrees is low, miserable, humid, but if you wait until Thursday you can try out – get this! – 2 degrees!

photo, 
             fruits on montmartreLast chance for Saturday night fruits.

This is about what it's been like since New Years. Just when we begin to think that times are going to get normal – standard blah – the winds take a turn and shoot some Arctic air over wonderland, and it's damp and humid and not so nice.

This reminds me that we did not have a beautiful blizzard like New York had. That one looked great on TV. Lucky it melted before anyone had to shovel it away. That was a blizzard with manners. And this also reminds me that I've forgotten to prod Météo Jim for an update from Pommeland. Check in next week, if you aren't in a hurry.

I Confess

This issue of Metropole... I dunno. Look, I may as well confess. Yeah, I watched a Brazilian movie on TV last night when I was supposed to be sweating here over this lousy code. I almost watched an African movie tonight – something like 'Dakar – the Musical' – but my conscience would beat me up in the morning, so here I am hacking away, making corrections, correcting the corrections, losing the corrections, and then the thing springs a leak.

It is so bad I almost feel like writing articles about Paris again. But before I get carried away, you have a right to know what's going on here.

This magazine Metropole Paris is ten years old, just a couple of days ago. I didn't know this would be so long–term when I started, but this is not the reason Metropole needed fixing. I mean, it needs fixing because it started in the early days of the WorldWideWeb with... with pioneer code, holding it together.

As time has passed the Internet code gurus have come along with improvements to the code that lies behind these pages. New code is beautiful, it is cool, it is nifty, and it is just as cruel as the old, barbaric, code.

One of Metropole's club members, Josef M. Schomburg, has been helping me fix up Metropole, mainly by trying to get me to accept rocket science. Josef is a good guy and I know he means well but he is not going to be holding my hand if the big bells and whistles go flat. This is another way of saying that we have been having fruitful discussions, like the diplomats.

All of Metropole back to the first issue is getting new code. It isn't quite ready yet, but the latest pages will open with a new look. Metropole has never been much for 'looks' and for the future it will even be more simple than it was before.

This is supposed to improve your experience with reading the words and looking at the photos. Now, if the type is too small, all you need to do is tell me and I can change it everywhere with one keystroke. It is computer magic, even if it isn't quite as magical as Josef wants. Too bad the same magic won't write the articles.

Anyway, this is still ongoing. And it reminds me that I still have some photos to do, right now, before I sleep.

Thanks all who took the time to write and congratulate me on taking a holiday. It is exactly what I'm going to do as soon as the dust settles, when there's no Orange Alerts, maybe when winter is over, when my ship comes in, when the swallows come back to – oops, that's another story. To be continued.

Goodblognight To You

Saturday:– Last week Laurie Pike wrote:– "it's on the ground floor, so no need for a door code. just knock on the window to the right of the door." Quote: ""It's lavish... but I call it home." – Clifton Webb

On hand – many lady bloggers, maybe four, including Laurie. This housewarming at Laurie's place in the Rue Nobel, a one–block affair on the north slope of Montmartre with the middle third of the street being stairs, yes, and tapping on the window is okay. Inside the lavish apartment is one room with a bathroom half as big again, full of coats. It is what is called a foot–in–the–door – a pied–à–terre – and if you put in more then someone has to step out the window.

photo, 
            laurie pike, bloggers, friends Laurie and bloggers poin to Matt's arrival.

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