les chats français ont des grosses couilles.

When I sit at the kitchen table for my phone lessons or am happily woofing down my third chocolatine of the day, often I gaze out the window and often see a kitty whom I've decided to call, "the cat with a death wish." (see below)

He strolls across the tiles like it ain't no thang, chasing after pigeons unsuccessfully and somehow managing to skirt death every time. And when I watch him, I'm constantly thinking that this is gonna be the time he falls -- oh sweet jesus, I can't watch this. 

Oh, by the way, I live on the 4th floor of my building. For perspective:

That's a long way to fall, kitty. 

soulagée, rassurée, detendue

This morning at 6:00 am in France, I cautiously opened the NPR news app on my phone with my eyes squinted in the dark and my breath stuck in my throat. Thank goodness I woke up to this. 

I think the people of France (myself included) can exhale a collective sigh of relief today.