Why We Love Lyon
It’s got two rivers, the Rhône, and the Saône. How do they love each other? Take a close look at this sculpture.
They’ve got a special brilliant red praline that they melt on pastry, that makes it look like Christmas every day. I’ve brought some home, and will be doing my own impossibly vivid Christmas baking with it.
It’s a whirligig slice of life. We go up there, we come back down. In between, almost anything can happen. And it usually does.
It’s also a city that takes itself seriously, and we take it seriously too, because serious things always happen to us there.
Even the chocolates are very, very serious. We eat one piece per day and count our blessings.
When you find yourself in need of comfort, and chocolate, and the comforts of chocolate, Lyon knows what to do about it.
When you find yourself in need of a walk in the wintry air, beautiful old doors are everywhere you look. Today a beautiful door opened, just for us, just in time for the holidays.
Remember when I told you about Sylvie? Well, Shel’s been seeing her ever since. Don’t ask me to explain. Don’t ask Shel to explain. Probably, don’t even ask Sylvie to explain, because it’s impossible. But for a couple of months now she’s been doing whatever it is she does, and now, three scans in a row, the tumor in Shel’s throat has gotten smaller. Each time. Smaller and smaller.
Enough smaller that today in Lyon the surgeon told us that he can remove it, and Shel won’t lose his voice.
It’s Christmas and chocolate, all rolled into one. And then some.