I Flip my Crêpes in the Air Sometimes…

I'll admit that I've just really, really wanted to use the title of this post for a long time, and the following post is really just an explanation.  For those of you who don't get the joke, when Taio Cruz came to Slope Day, the CJL t-shirts for the day had "I flip my latkes in the air sometimes" printed on them.  For those of you who still don't get the reference (as my #1 reader probably doesn't), watch this video.  If you still don't get it (as she still might not), please watch this video, too, for the original.
I did, in fact, make crêpes for dinner tonight, which happens to my last night in Tours.  And I did, moreover, really flip them in the air, without dropping them (it's easier than you'd think).  And then I changed into my Slope Day shirt and ate them.  With Nutella.  I'm just saying...

In any case, I'm all finished with my research here in Tours, and am leaving with about 66 pages of notes.

Tomorrow, I'm planning on going to Paris, where I hope that the Shoah archives will let me in (they haven't responded to my e-mail from last week, yet).

For the next few weeks, I have the following plans (in no particular order):

1) See how much relevant information I can get out of the Shoah Memorial archives and library (again, provided I am allowed to enter).

2) Take a day trip to Anjou, in order to track down that Fritz-Christiane story of the last entry, at the request of my #2 reader.

3) Bruno et al.

4) Take a vacation!  As in, leave my work for a few days, and travel Europe.  Josh or Margo, would either of you be interested in accompanying me to Florence?  Or Venice?  Or Brussels?

5) Go to Orleans, the neighbor of Tours, and see whether I can flesh out the regional nature of my Touraine study.

Sam, have a safe trip back!

Z&M, have a fun time!

Egyptians, make the right choices!

Noveya, go to sleep!

~JD

"Un jour, sur l'avenue Grammont, qui était percée et déformé, ma valise qui était un peu vétuste s’est défoncée, et j’ai fait l’omelette, qui naturellemnt coulait en dessous.  J’ai rencontré une patrouille allemande qui m’a arrêté et m’a demandé des explications.  J’ai vraiment cru un instant qu’ils allaient m’embarquer.  Je leur ai expliqué que mon épouse était très malade en clinique et que je lui portais des œufs parce qu’il n’y en avait pas beaucoup.  Ils m’ont laissé filer " [One day, on Grammont avenue, which was drilled through and deformed, my suitcase, which was a rather dilapidated, broke apart, and I thereby made a sidewalk omelet, which naturally flowed off in all directions.  I encountered a German patrol, which arrested me, and demanded an explication of me.  I truly believed, for an instant, that they were going to take me away.  I explained to them that my wife was very sick, and in the clinic, and that I was bring her some eggs, because there weren't too many there.  They let me continue on my way] (René Pichon, as cited in Jean-Pierre Froger and Jacques Watiez, Les Tourangeaux Sous l’Occupation : La vie quotidienne, p. 82).