Back From Par-ee for a (Mostly) Joyous Reunion With Les Chats

I'm back from Paris. Gawd, I love that place. Only thing was about Day 4, I started missing my babies something fierce. This always happens on long trips.

Paris, as Julia Child noted in her memoir, is a city of cats. But I only actually saw three of them while I was there due to the cold weather. Cats are no fools. They don't get out in it unless they have to.

I actually chose my restaurant one night based solely on the fact that they had an orange house cat just like my Henry. Yes, in Paris you will see cats and dogs in the restaurants. This one had a French attitude (as does Monsieur Henri) and only let me touch him twice before going upstairs.

By Christmas Day, I was reduced to petting the guy above at the Jacquemart-Andre museum -- a very beautiful place by the way.

Getting home took forever. Nothing like a little episode of international terrorism to spice up a transatlantic flight. But then again, it was probably the safest day to fly what with all the bag checks and frisking. I haven't been felt up that much since playing spin the bottle in 6th grade.

After 24 hours without sleep, it was wonderful to fall into my bed covered with cat hair, even if I did awake to Henry peeing on the pillow next to me. Just letting me know where he stands on the whole issue. Today, Henry, Nettie and CJ still aren't talking to me. Sammy, Roxie, Koko and Ernie are always glad to see me.

It's good to be home.

By the way, if you'd like to read more about to my trip to Paris, go here.

So What's Your Favorite Christmas Song?

This time of year brings out the songbird in all of us. Even those of us that live with cats and can't sing. I don't know how that happened to me. My parents both had great voices. I must take after my Aunt Marie who was the only one of the four Soljan sisters asked not to sing in the St. Michael's church choir!

When I was a kid, my mom would round up all the kids in the neighborhood and whip us into shape for a night of caroling. She lined us up double file, smallest to tallest, holding lit candles and lanterns. Mama brought up the rear and kept us all in sync (if not in total harmony) with a toot on a toy recorder.

My favorite time caroling was the Christmas we lived in Baton Rouge. Our neighbors lavished hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies upon us. However, I think we got the warmest reception at my friend Lisa's house. Her parents were hosting a cocktail soiree. One gentleman jumped up on a chair and shouted "Bravo! Bravo!" We all thought he was drunk. And he might have been. Turns out he was also the head of the music department at LSU. My mom would never have had the nerve to ring their bell had she known that.

These days I carol solo at home along with The Rat Pack, Elvis and the swing and Big Band singers.

It got me thinking about people's favorites.

My daddy loved "Jingle Bell Rock" and used to sing it (making up the words) while we decorated the tree.

My mother's leanings were more spiritual. Her favorite was "O Holy Night." I have to agree that when it's well done, that one is goosebump-inducing.

My grandmother loved "Silver Bells." When I was little, I thought "the city" in the song was New Orleans. It's probably not, but that's still the place I visualize when I hear it.

The cats seem evenly divided over "Z'at You Santa Claus?" (the Louis Armstrong version) and Dean Martin's rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

As for me, these are great songs all, but the two Christmas songs I can (and do) listen to over and over are "Ave Maria" -- granted not strictly speaking just a Christmas hymn -- by anybody but especially love Barbra Streisand's version (though not a big fan of hers as a rule) and "Merry Christmas, Baby" by Elvis.

Now it's your turn. What's your favorite Christmas song? And why?

Happy Holidays from The House Where The Black Cat Lives