Un verre limé
We’re back again, almost a couple of weeks now. We are starting to walk off the last couple of Portes to be done, the unclear remnants of a self-invented project, so close to others already done, and yet they have names to be ticked and listed.
The hazard has been that I fell down the stairs in the apartment and severely sprained my right foot, and I’ve been in this condition for almost a week and I don’t see it changing very soon. Good for desk work, but not for road work. I did manage to pass, before all this, the mysterious Rouge Limé on Rue de Charonne in the 11th. It had taken me ages last year to begin to understand the notion of the limé : the glass filed to its brim, so that it it almost has a convex meniscus sitting on top. It’s my kind of thing, with my one glass per day, so I tell myself it might as well be limé. SC
notes from an urban hibernation 
Dear Simon, nice to see la Rouge Limé. all alone you figured it out. People ask me about it as if being down the street from me I should have the ready explication. I asked a waiter one day, he asked the cook and the cook said ask the owner. take care off yourself. love, Kate >