A lick and a promise

When I was younger and still living in my parents' house, my mother would refer to surface cleaning, the kind you did when you were either too busy or too lazy to break out the heavy duty cleaning products and roll up your sleeves, as "a lick and a promise."

This, mes lapins, is a lick and a promise. I have let you go too long without a peep, and want to let you know I'm still here, still Paris-ing, and have not forgotten you. A preponderance of photographs begs - begs, I tell you! - to be uploaded and shared, with copious commentary.

A hint of what lies in your reading future, among other assorted sweetmeats: my family's visit, a little of Germany, Paris during the holidays, and some reflections on the rentrée and finals season.

Now I leave you, to prepare myself something hot - milk with brandy and honey, perhaps, which is one of my favorite treats when I have a cold - and sleep. Tomorrow is my last final, and then I will have no excuse but to break out the iPhoto, roll up my sleeves, and begin to make up for lost time.

Bisous to all. A bientôt. I promise.