The outside action came to a halt today as I finished unpacking, did laundry and nursed a blistered little toe. And this is a good time to give you a few descriptions of the apartment I call home until the end of this month. As I write, in Tim’s office, I am looking to my left out a tall set of windows down onto the Old Port, which is lined on one side with huge yachts and on the east side with smaller craft boats that do not look ocean-worthy to me. When the window is propped open (see photo of the window frog) there is a breeze that drifts up from the water, through the office, across the apartment and out the windows on the west side of the apartment. It forms natural air conditioning. The office desk–a thick glass panel on top of a sleek chrome stand is positioned next to the window, walls are lined with Tim’s wonderful art collection and flying out from on top of a closet that extends across the doorway of the room are a half dozen ceramic angels. The ceiling of the office is a beautifully painted Italianate fresco that is replicated in style but with different designs across the entire ceiling of the living/dining/kitchen area of the apartment. The ceilings in this apartment are stunning and are beautifully lighted to make them even more elegant at night-time. Tim is a writer by avocation, has published two books and I think a play. This room is a perfect writing place. I also like to sit on the futon/sofa in here to read because of the light and the breeze…and the ambiance of this space.

When Michael and Tim bought this apartment, after selling their place in Paris, they had it completely restored and designed with both comfort and elegance in mind. On the comfort side, there are two large master-suite style bathrooms with walk in tiled showers. It took me considerable time to gain command of the controls that work the shower I am using. It has both a rain-shower and a wand shower with a drain that is camouflaged by a long chrome bar across one end of the floor. My first shower here was a cold-water one using only the wand…now I know how to manage both the temperature and the rain shower! I have friends arriving from England tomorrow and we’ll see if they can master the controls in the other bathroom.

The kitchen is a masterpiece of electronic wizardry. Appliances blend in so well with the soft ivory cabinets that one must know where they are in order to work the system. Fortunately the housekeeper was here when I arrived and gave me a tour. I am still befuddled by the kitchen cooktop which talks back to me each time I push a button and have not yet tried the oven, but Michael and Tim left explicit directions for the washer and dryer and I have managed to get the washer going today. When the buttons on the machine say “trempage”, “court”, “Marche/Arret”, and “Départ” you know that laundry day is going to be a linguistic challenge. Although part of it is not working at the moment, the faucet for the kitchen sink has both a filtered water setting and a fizzy water setting in addition to a regular water setting one uses for cooking and cleaning up…one handle controls everything. The kitchen counter is glass over the top of a soft, aqua color, reflecting the morning color of the sea water in the port below the apartment. In fact, all the apartment colors replicate the changing colors of the sky and water that surround us. There is lighting everywhere, controlled by smooth round dials that bring the light up to bright if you touch the top and turn off the light if you touch the middle…that took some time to figure out. The hanger rods in the bedroom closets are light rods that automatically turn on when you open the closet doors. Magical. The windows have no curtains…we are on the third floor and no one can see in. However, the exterior of the building has shutters that open and close by leaning out the window, unfastening the latches, pulling them closed and then fastening them closed with long iron hooks on the inside. Because the sun is so bright in the afternoons here, I have kept all but one of the exterior shutters on the West side (kitchen/living room/dining room) closed to filter the light; windows open and shutters closed makes a perfect cross breeze day and night. Notice the long iron hooks on the side of the open window in the photos.

Finally, somewhat like Apple TV, there is a SONOS sound system wired into the apartment, which, with the use of an APP on my iPad, fills the apartment with music that comes from innocuous little crevices strategically placed to make the most of surround sound. Unlike the challenging shower, I was able to install the APP, sync my iPad to the sound system and get it playing without a hitch. So far I have figured out how to get the classical music working; now trying to find out how to get Edith Piaf to sing for me since it keeps telling me it will only work with Michael’s iPhone. Eric VanCurler, for once you would be so proud of your Mother-in-law’s technical success.

I must pinch myself every-so-often to be sure I am not in the middle of a wonderful daydream, but am really here.