Rue Daguerre Saturday morning

It's Autum, grapes and the first clementine arrive.

 Oysters and

figs and berries abound.

Lobsters aren't cheap, this is Paris.

These must have been from yesterday, cooked, cut and stuffed.

Cèpes and girolle from France?  Maybe.

An espresso in the long shadows.

One of those big crabs

A Saint Piérre?

You know daguerrotype?  One of the first photographic processes?  Yes that derives from the name of Monsieur Louis Daguerre, he was an artist.  I wonder if someone told him he was crazy, don't do that, it's a bad idea, I wonder what he would have answered. Fuck off? Now there is even a Daguerreian Society.

  What would he think if he knew the Parisians would dedicate a street to him and it just turned into one of the best markets in town.

This fish doesn't look to appetizing with his exploded tongue.

Camembert yes.  Miam miam.

Sailboat on the Seine

Look at those locks maddened lovers clip onto these repoussé sculptures.  They probably toss the key in the river and vow passion, heart-splintering, gut-wrenching love. Until death do them part.  Fuck that! Look at that sailboat, how the hell did it get there?

Crazy. Walking across the Pont Alexander to get to the Palais de la Decouverte for an outing with my four year old to push buttons and watch electric fish do their gigs, we saw this two treed sailboat hanging out between the low stone bridges on the Seine.  How did that get there?  Only barges can float under those arches.