resume

Can I just start this post by saying that I am a little bit scared right now...I have just heard a grumpy string of profanities outside my door and am hoping I'm not the one to have caused the outburst. Do I have my music up too loud? Has a speck of my clothing fibre been found in the entranceway? Did I leave the toilet door SLIGHTLY ajar...?
My apartment shares a front door, foyer and toilet with two other apartments. One of these is inhabited by the lovely Leo and the other by an obsessive compulsive madame (let's call her OC for short). OC is vacuuming her place, I can hear her. She did it yesterday too. And the day before.
When Leo and I leave our front doors open so that we can visit, OC comes storming out to see what's going on. Sometimes she's in a good mood and just wants to gently berrate us for out clothing choice, preferred brand of coffee, belief systems - basically anything goes so long as she gets to do all the talking. Other times she has some serious issues to discuss: Was someone cooking fish last night? Because she could smell it and it made her nauseous. Do we clean the soles of our shoes every night? Because it's just not good enough if we don't. When did we last change our sheets? Twice a week would be preferable.
Sigh. Enough of that, suffice to say I feel a little like I'm walking on eggshells when she's home.
Onto more interesting things...
Thursday was the start of my 4 day weekend, I lunched with a gaggle of aupairs (thankyou facebook) and we had a great time and finished up with a spot of op-shopping.
Friday I went out for a little walk and saw this:
Now what we have here is the ladder/lift thingy that people use when moving into - and out of - upper storey apartment buildings. This particular ladder is in use on some swanky apartment on Quai St Michel. I don't know who was moving in, but there were police vans all along the street, so I like to imagine it was someone famous.
It was a lovely day and Paris was bustling and springlike.