Annika stayed home from school today, "mal a la langue", is her story, "sore tongue". Now part of me worries that this is true, and I should not just assume she's faking it, but I do feel for her, knowing that she has gone through some major changes with this whole school thing: way more hours per week at school, twice as many kids who are all older than she and her former classmates...and all this on top of the fact that not a single kid or teacher in her class speaks any English besides "hello" and the words to English Frere Jacques. So, I was inclined to let her stay home for another 4 day weekend (yes! Monday is another holiday) and recuperate.
But the irony was not lost on me that the word for tongue in French is langue, which is the same word in French for language. So, I sheepishly went to explain about Annika's absence(feeling like it was a lame exuse) and the teacher looked surprised, "mal a la langue?" But she is very caring, so she asked Annika to stick it out for inspection, and when we saw nothing but a perfectly normal looking little "langue", the teacher kindly agreed to buy into our excuse, offering, "maybe she bit it in the night". (Peut-etre qu'elle a mordu la langue pendant la nuit?"). And I, grateful that she let us save face, agreed. Then as I was walking a relieved little girl out of the school, I thought that it was true in a way. When it came to la langue, Annika bit it.
But tomorrow is another day, and everyone needs a break sometimes, and hopefully she'll be back en forme to face la langue with her perfect langue by Monday, or, make that Tuesday.
Speaking of breaks, it's so nice that Emily is here. Well, she's a very high energy girl with lots on her mind (and we've had several deep conversations already to prove it) but it was nice that she was here to watch Annika so I can prepare for the Wheelers' arrival tonight. Think how hard it would be to drag her around the grocery stores with her sore tongue and all. Also, the girls are finishing off some laudry for me, so our guests will have something clean to sleep on tonight.
I'm able to write this because they are stuck in traffic coming from Paris. But they'll be here soon, and it's going to so fun to see them.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Contes Bretagnes & then we got Emily.
Lauren's class performed a play last night. The kids had been working on it since January. First they found out some Bretagne history, and then they wrote fairy tales based on a historical event or figure. The wrote the play, and the music, and painted the sets. They included Lauren in the chorus and musicians' circle.
These are Lauren's teachers, M. Nelou and Mme. Martin.
Kids performing their tale.
musicians' circle.
curtain call
Here's a video of the players and the chorus, Greek tragedy style.
Emily arrived safely today. We picked her up from Rennes, sleepy but wided eyed with amazement. She's currently trying with all her strength to keep her eyes open because if she goes to sleep now, she'll be up in the middle of the night. We are so happy that she's here. It is going to be so much fun having another roommate. The girls are talking her ear off right now. She also brought some fabulous new Barbie videos. We're excited to show her Dinan and Britanny and even Paris in the next few weeks. For now...au revoir.
These are Lauren's teachers, M. Nelou and Mme. Martin.
Kids performing their tale.
musicians' circle.
curtain call
Here's a video of the players and the chorus, Greek tragedy style.
Emily arrived safely today. We picked her up from Rennes, sleepy but wided eyed with amazement. She's currently trying with all her strength to keep her eyes open because if she goes to sleep now, she'll be up in the middle of the night. We are so happy that she's here. It is going to be so much fun having another roommate. The girls are talking her ear off right now. She also brought some fabulous new Barbie videos. We're excited to show her Dinan and Britanny and even Paris in the next few weeks. For now...au revoir.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Negotiating, French Style
Culture Shock. I guess that's what you have to call it when you go from shock to disbelief to reluctant acceptance.
Now, there are many differences here, and most of them are completely charming. But then there are France's famous strikes, as synonymous with France as croissants. Yet as irritating and inconvenient as visitors usually find strikes to be, noone is ever surprised by them. Being from Canada, I'm even used to labor strikes. But this was unlike anything I've ever seen or heard of.
As I tried to turn into my favorite grocery store, called LeClerc, this morning, I noticed a strange sight: cars parked on the side of the road and the entrance to the parking lot blocked by a pile of old tires about 8 meters high and 20 meters across. Then I noticed clumps of hay strewn about, and someone had scrawled in spray paint "LeClerc Voleur" (ie, LeClerc is a theif) in huge letters across the outside wall of the store. Incredulous, I drove around to the other side of the store to see if the other side was open, but there too, it was a disaster scene...shopping carts overturned throughout the parking lot, tires and hay piled up by all the entrances. And more spray paint on the gas station signs: "fermee" (closed) written below all the numbers and some other indesipherable scribbling all over the gas station number sign. Then I caught the whiff of manure. Could these vandals have included that in thier attack?
What state of mind could make people act this way? Are they a bunch of overgrown brats who get a thrill from destroying and defacing property ? Is it disgruntled welfare recipients, angry that they didn't get a raise. Who could have done this? I can't imagine, but obviously it took some serious manpower and equipment to spread all those huge tires and copious quantities of hay and excrement. And how could they not get caught? I mean, can't the police look at traffic light cameras from the area, and get the licence plates?
So, I was already completed shocked by this display (as well as irritated because I couldn't get my shopping done this morning, so I knew I'd have to cancel my English lesson with Dablan today). So imagine my surprise, when, as I was picking up Annika for lunch, I told one of the teachers about it, and she said, casually, "oh, ya, that is the Dairy Farmer's Association": "they're just angry", she explained as my eyes grew ever wider and my jaw fell ever closer to the floor, "that their costs are increasing, and the store won't pay them more for their products". She made it seem like it was all in a day's work. "But it's such a mess", I countered, "is it not illegal for them to make such a mess and deface property?" She just shrugged, and then she had to run.
So, I thought that could not be real. She must have misunderstood me. How can she be so casual?
But then, I brought it up with another mom tonight at Lauren's school play, and she confirmed that it was just the Dairy Association doing "business". She also thought it was no big deal. "Ce n'est rien," she told me. She thought we were lucky they didn't break windows and loot the store.
I can barely believe this. Still.
Anyway, as to Lauren's play...it was so adorable...photos forthcoming. Video too. The kids and teachers and parents did a fabulous job.
Now, there are many differences here, and most of them are completely charming. But then there are France's famous strikes, as synonymous with France as croissants. Yet as irritating and inconvenient as visitors usually find strikes to be, noone is ever surprised by them. Being from Canada, I'm even used to labor strikes. But this was unlike anything I've ever seen or heard of.
As I tried to turn into my favorite grocery store, called LeClerc, this morning, I noticed a strange sight: cars parked on the side of the road and the entrance to the parking lot blocked by a pile of old tires about 8 meters high and 20 meters across. Then I noticed clumps of hay strewn about, and someone had scrawled in spray paint "LeClerc Voleur" (ie, LeClerc is a theif) in huge letters across the outside wall of the store. Incredulous, I drove around to the other side of the store to see if the other side was open, but there too, it was a disaster scene...shopping carts overturned throughout the parking lot, tires and hay piled up by all the entrances. And more spray paint on the gas station signs: "fermee" (closed) written below all the numbers and some other indesipherable scribbling all over the gas station number sign. Then I caught the whiff of manure. Could these vandals have included that in thier attack?
What state of mind could make people act this way? Are they a bunch of overgrown brats who get a thrill from destroying and defacing property ? Is it disgruntled welfare recipients, angry that they didn't get a raise. Who could have done this? I can't imagine, but obviously it took some serious manpower and equipment to spread all those huge tires and copious quantities of hay and excrement. And how could they not get caught? I mean, can't the police look at traffic light cameras from the area, and get the licence plates?
So, I was already completed shocked by this display (as well as irritated because I couldn't get my shopping done this morning, so I knew I'd have to cancel my English lesson with Dablan today). So imagine my surprise, when, as I was picking up Annika for lunch, I told one of the teachers about it, and she said, casually, "oh, ya, that is the Dairy Farmer's Association": "they're just angry", she explained as my eyes grew ever wider and my jaw fell ever closer to the floor, "that their costs are increasing, and the store won't pay them more for their products". She made it seem like it was all in a day's work. "But it's such a mess", I countered, "is it not illegal for them to make such a mess and deface property?" She just shrugged, and then she had to run.
So, I thought that could not be real. She must have misunderstood me. How can she be so casual?
But then, I brought it up with another mom tonight at Lauren's school play, and she confirmed that it was just the Dairy Association doing "business". She also thought it was no big deal. "Ce n'est rien," she told me. She thought we were lucky they didn't break windows and loot the store.
I can barely believe this. Still.
Anyway, as to Lauren's play...it was so adorable...photos forthcoming. Video too. The kids and teachers and parents did a fabulous job.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Joie de Vivre
Last night we went an Art Opening, including the works of my new friends, Pascale and Pascale, both sculture artists. It took place in a nearby Abby that is about 1600 years old. .
The Abby where the Opening was.
The kids playing in the courtyard at the Abby, L and A and Suzanne, Mariolou, and another friend of theirs, Isabelle.
Some of the peices in the exhibit.
Then after that, we got invited to Pascale and Lionel's absolutely amazing house. Again, is it heaven or is it Dinan?
Later at Pascale and Lionel's house.
Voila, Pascale, the genius sculpture artist. Her house is filled with joy, light and color as well as dozens of these earthen creations, amazing and joyful little people, children mostly and mothers.
I call this one heaven and a baby. Isn't it the best thing you've ever seen?
Another little cluster of joyful people.
The kids playing in Pascale and Lionel's backyard (live joyful little people).
Here's the table where we had a cheese course and a dessert after the art opening. The kids always eat first, and at the other Pascale and Dablan's house it was in a different room (outside actually). By the time we ate, the kids were long gone playing.
The backyard workshop where Pascale creates all her masterpeices (and where her girls and their friends also play and create).
The warm greenhouse of little clay masterpieces.
The kids trying to start a movie. They didn't get very far into it. Eventhough we were having a fabulous time, and we did stay until midnight, at some point you have to call it a night, right..."no, mommy, no....."
The Abby where the Opening was.
The kids playing in the courtyard at the Abby, L and A and Suzanne, Mariolou, and another friend of theirs, Isabelle.
Some of the peices in the exhibit.
Then after that, we got invited to Pascale and Lionel's absolutely amazing house. Again, is it heaven or is it Dinan?
Later at Pascale and Lionel's house.
Voila, Pascale, the genius sculpture artist. Her house is filled with joy, light and color as well as dozens of these earthen creations, amazing and joyful little people, children mostly and mothers.
I call this one heaven and a baby. Isn't it the best thing you've ever seen?
Another little cluster of joyful people.
The kids playing in Pascale and Lionel's backyard (live joyful little people).
Here's the table where we had a cheese course and a dessert after the art opening. The kids always eat first, and at the other Pascale and Dablan's house it was in a different room (outside actually). By the time we ate, the kids were long gone playing.
The backyard workshop where Pascale creates all her masterpeices (and where her girls and their friends also play and create).
The warm greenhouse of little clay masterpieces.
The kids trying to start a movie. They didn't get very far into it. Eventhough we were having a fabulous time, and we did stay until midnight, at some point you have to call it a night, right..."no, mommy, no....."
Friday, May 22, 2009
La reprise
Opposing forces create tension, like the tension of a cello string.
I know. It's obtuse. I'm just trying to say that without the tense days, our beautiful ones like today would not seem so spectacular.
First, this morning the whole "super nanny schedule" scheme worked like a charm. Writing a list with boxes to check beside the task, for Lauren, has as predictable an outcome as tapping the nerve under her knee. Silly me for not doing that list thing with her yesterday. Annika could not care less about lists, but she had been read the riot act, so she tried to be helpful and pleasant.
Then, later in the morning, the fun began: we went up to the weekly farmers' market and grabbed some treats and flowers to bring to Pascale and Dablan's garden party. Pascale is a chef d'orchestre extraordnaire. The meal she prepared was perfect in every way, and perfectly French including four courses and a rather constant flow of several wonderful wines. The company was also delightful. She invited her longtime friend Brigitte, who's also a teacher, but she now works as a district administrator of Education in Paris(she took the job because she's single now and the job comes with state housing). As well, another family, Lionel and Pascale (also a teacher at a nearby school) and their two girls, Suzanne who is 12 and Marilou, 9. Suzanne organized the other girls in many games during the party, including french versions of hide and seek, what time is it mr. wolf, etc. The girls ran around, chasing and climbing and giggling and having a fabulous time generally.
Another fun element of this oeuvre d'art garden party was moving from inside to out. The sun was playing cache-cache, and it kept us all on our toes.
We started eating at noon and finished at 3:00. Surrounded by these gracious and interesting people, my children laughing and playing, and the absolutely gourmet food and wine, I was asking myself, "can this be real?"
One sidenote (and a good example of tension) as I am blissfully remebering our day, there is huge spider on the wall in the other room. Why is it always when Kevin is not around that the especially huge spiders show up? I actually love spiders, or at least I admire their "work" let's say, but when they're this big and in my living room, I have to do something...
Excuse me a moment....
The spider "met" a French phrase book and has gone to its great reward. I've never seen anything like that one, its long legs having something like hinges, joints, I guess, in the middle. For my conscience sake, I hope it was a dangerous one. It looked like the biting wolf spider that I've seen before in my bathtub at home.
Anyway, Pascale created a truly amazing party, and she's basically now my party creating mentor. I have a ways to go, but, one day, I hope to attain her level of party throwing ablitity.
Then after that, and after forgetting our directions and getting lost a bit, we finally made it to Dinard to meet Berengere and her three boys. I haven't seen her since she moved back to France a year or two ago, and she's the one who helped me register the kids at school here. She is also the type of person who likes, not only to travel, but stay for a while in a place. She and her husband, Francois, are about to pack up their little family and move to Brussels this summer. It was great to see her again. Her boys and the girls had a blast digging in the sand, and swimmimng in the azure ocean. Oooo la, la...what an amazing beach town. It was a warm late afternoon/evening at the beach, and, I wouldn't be surprised if you could actually see us glowing.
One more thing...in case you're following my reports of the people (mom), we met Peter's wife, Pat. She's an orthopedic surgeon from Montreal, a fair bit younger than he. She's a very busy and industrious girl, as you can imagine. She's just like all the boaters on our street who are showing up recently. It's like a beehive these days with all the people out cleaning and tending their boats.
One more thing...I'm about to gush about my kids, so that's fair warning. Okay now that only you are left reading, mom and Kevin: Annika is fascinated with a new song. She got it on a soundtrack that she borrowed from the library. (the Flushed Away soundtrack) The song is 'She's a Lady' by Tom Jones. She listens to it over and over. It's the cutest thing..."She's got style, she's got grace, and she's never in one place..she's a lady.Whoa whoa, she's a lady". At first I thought it was a ridulous song, but I actually like it now, and it's so cute that Annika loves it. Also, Lauren has recently informed me that when she grows up, she wants to be work at the NASA International Space Station. Also, she's doing well in school, learning tons of French (they both are) and she's doing well with her fraction and decimals lessons despite being the youngest in the class.
Tomorrow, Berengere and the boys are coming to Dinan for a visit and a little boat trip down the Rance river and then at 6pm the girls and I are going to an art opening for Pascale and Pascale's sculpture. Is there no end to this woman's creativity? Answer: no, no end. Also, with the help of her joyful husband Dablan, she has raised four kids and she's an amazing teacher too. She's my hero. The opening is at the Abby on the river (several photos and video of this Abby and the environs already on this blog). It is such an amazing place, complete with the tombs of a King and Queen from the 6th century. And they are very freaky tombs in that the the stone relief of the Queen appears to be a shapely woman in shackles around her knees (chastity belt?), the King's has no such impediments to his freedom.
So, anyway, tomorrow promises to be pretty amazing as well.
Then Saturday, we have a playdate with Mael, and Sunday is the school fundraiser garage sale.
This is Pascale's beautiful table (she even made the table cloth herself).
This is their living room when I first came in. There is the entree course on the table, but we ended up taking it outside. The art on the wall is from one of their sons.
The cheese course. Lovely people. Too bad I didn't get any good ones of Lionel and Dablan yet. I mean, how obnoxious can I be with the camera though, you know?
And, finally, the pie. Apples peeled by hand with Brigitte helping, as we were coming in. Truly, she must have worked for hours on this wonderful lunch.
Here's the first course of the garden party, cucumber, olives, stuffed tomatoes, the bread and bread sticks are not on the table yet. The Rose is being examined apparently.
Berengere on the beach (and the back of the heads of Gregoire and Maxence).
Kids playing in Dinard.
Good night for now.
It's now later the next day, and you will not believe the genius at this art show in the work of both the Pascals. Then I got to go to Pascale (the other Pascale) house and she has dozens of these amazing little sculptures all over her house. I am so incredibly tired right now after spending another amazing evening with these people. Her sculptures are the most incredible things you've ever seen. Wait till you see them. You will die. I feel like I'm in heaven sometimes. Am I in heaven or France. I really don't know at times. It's surreal. The scarves, the perfums, the food, the abbyes, the art shows, the river, the friends, the happy children....it's all intoxicating. Anyway, as I said I'm too tired to write or post photos...but wait til you hear....ooooo la, la.
Oh, here are the kids on the boat yesterday; it was Berengere, her mom and I and her kids and a friend of Eloi's, Emerique. The boys kept asking me...allez plus vite! Vitesse maximum. So funny. And little Maxence gave me the honour of sitting deciding to sit beside me (I was the driver!). So, so, so adorable.
I know. It's obtuse. I'm just trying to say that without the tense days, our beautiful ones like today would not seem so spectacular.
First, this morning the whole "super nanny schedule" scheme worked like a charm. Writing a list with boxes to check beside the task, for Lauren, has as predictable an outcome as tapping the nerve under her knee. Silly me for not doing that list thing with her yesterday. Annika could not care less about lists, but she had been read the riot act, so she tried to be helpful and pleasant.
Then, later in the morning, the fun began: we went up to the weekly farmers' market and grabbed some treats and flowers to bring to Pascale and Dablan's garden party. Pascale is a chef d'orchestre extraordnaire. The meal she prepared was perfect in every way, and perfectly French including four courses and a rather constant flow of several wonderful wines. The company was also delightful. She invited her longtime friend Brigitte, who's also a teacher, but she now works as a district administrator of Education in Paris(she took the job because she's single now and the job comes with state housing). As well, another family, Lionel and Pascale (also a teacher at a nearby school) and their two girls, Suzanne who is 12 and Marilou, 9. Suzanne organized the other girls in many games during the party, including french versions of hide and seek, what time is it mr. wolf, etc. The girls ran around, chasing and climbing and giggling and having a fabulous time generally.
Another fun element of this oeuvre d'art garden party was moving from inside to out. The sun was playing cache-cache, and it kept us all on our toes.
We started eating at noon and finished at 3:00. Surrounded by these gracious and interesting people, my children laughing and playing, and the absolutely gourmet food and wine, I was asking myself, "can this be real?"
One sidenote (and a good example of tension) as I am blissfully remebering our day, there is huge spider on the wall in the other room. Why is it always when Kevin is not around that the especially huge spiders show up? I actually love spiders, or at least I admire their "work" let's say, but when they're this big and in my living room, I have to do something...
Excuse me a moment....
The spider "met" a French phrase book and has gone to its great reward. I've never seen anything like that one, its long legs having something like hinges, joints, I guess, in the middle. For my conscience sake, I hope it was a dangerous one. It looked like the biting wolf spider that I've seen before in my bathtub at home.
Anyway, Pascale created a truly amazing party, and she's basically now my party creating mentor. I have a ways to go, but, one day, I hope to attain her level of party throwing ablitity.
Then after that, and after forgetting our directions and getting lost a bit, we finally made it to Dinard to meet Berengere and her three boys. I haven't seen her since she moved back to France a year or two ago, and she's the one who helped me register the kids at school here. She is also the type of person who likes, not only to travel, but stay for a while in a place. She and her husband, Francois, are about to pack up their little family and move to Brussels this summer. It was great to see her again. Her boys and the girls had a blast digging in the sand, and swimmimng in the azure ocean. Oooo la, la...what an amazing beach town. It was a warm late afternoon/evening at the beach, and, I wouldn't be surprised if you could actually see us glowing.
One more thing...in case you're following my reports of the people (mom), we met Peter's wife, Pat. She's an orthopedic surgeon from Montreal, a fair bit younger than he. She's a very busy and industrious girl, as you can imagine. She's just like all the boaters on our street who are showing up recently. It's like a beehive these days with all the people out cleaning and tending their boats.
One more thing...I'm about to gush about my kids, so that's fair warning. Okay now that only you are left reading, mom and Kevin: Annika is fascinated with a new song. She got it on a soundtrack that she borrowed from the library. (the Flushed Away soundtrack) The song is 'She's a Lady' by Tom Jones. She listens to it over and over. It's the cutest thing..."She's got style, she's got grace, and she's never in one place..she's a lady.Whoa whoa, she's a lady". At first I thought it was a ridulous song, but I actually like it now, and it's so cute that Annika loves it. Also, Lauren has recently informed me that when she grows up, she wants to be work at the NASA International Space Station. Also, she's doing well in school, learning tons of French (they both are) and she's doing well with her fraction and decimals lessons despite being the youngest in the class.
Tomorrow, Berengere and the boys are coming to Dinan for a visit and a little boat trip down the Rance river and then at 6pm the girls and I are going to an art opening for Pascale and Pascale's sculpture. Is there no end to this woman's creativity? Answer: no, no end. Also, with the help of her joyful husband Dablan, she has raised four kids and she's an amazing teacher too. She's my hero. The opening is at the Abby on the river (several photos and video of this Abby and the environs already on this blog). It is such an amazing place, complete with the tombs of a King and Queen from the 6th century. And they are very freaky tombs in that the the stone relief of the Queen appears to be a shapely woman in shackles around her knees (chastity belt?), the King's has no such impediments to his freedom.
So, anyway, tomorrow promises to be pretty amazing as well.
Then Saturday, we have a playdate with Mael, and Sunday is the school fundraiser garage sale.
This is Pascale's beautiful table (she even made the table cloth herself).
This is their living room when I first came in. There is the entree course on the table, but we ended up taking it outside. The art on the wall is from one of their sons.
The cheese course. Lovely people. Too bad I didn't get any good ones of Lionel and Dablan yet. I mean, how obnoxious can I be with the camera though, you know?
And, finally, the pie. Apples peeled by hand with Brigitte helping, as we were coming in. Truly, she must have worked for hours on this wonderful lunch.
Here's the first course of the garden party, cucumber, olives, stuffed tomatoes, the bread and bread sticks are not on the table yet. The Rose is being examined apparently.
Berengere on the beach (and the back of the heads of Gregoire and Maxence).
Kids playing in Dinard.
Good night for now.
It's now later the next day, and you will not believe the genius at this art show in the work of both the Pascals. Then I got to go to Pascale (the other Pascale) house and she has dozens of these amazing little sculptures all over her house. I am so incredibly tired right now after spending another amazing evening with these people. Her sculptures are the most incredible things you've ever seen. Wait till you see them. You will die. I feel like I'm in heaven sometimes. Am I in heaven or France. I really don't know at times. It's surreal. The scarves, the perfums, the food, the abbyes, the art shows, the river, the friends, the happy children....it's all intoxicating. Anyway, as I said I'm too tired to write or post photos...but wait til you hear....ooooo la, la.
Oh, here are the kids on the boat yesterday; it was Berengere, her mom and I and her kids and a friend of Eloi's, Emerique. The boys kept asking me...allez plus vite! Vitesse maximum. So funny. And little Maxence gave me the honour of sitting deciding to sit beside me (I was the driver!). So, so, so adorable.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Ranting with a bit of raving, but so far no foaming.
The longer I'm a mom, the more Lord of the Flies rings true. I remember reading it in high school and being offended by such a view of humanity. Having kids, though, gives you the chance to wake up and smell the dark side....just on some days of course. I thought everything was so zen for the past few weeks, and then today, the start of a 5 day holiday here, has turned everything on its head.
First, the girls. Who's children are these again? One minute everything is great, yet, before I even know what's happening, they're conspiring against me. They're usually responsible and responsive, on some days (and today was one of those) it's all about let's play, goof around and act like monkeys, break things, ignore everything mom asks us to do while she's making breakfast, doing the laundry (by hand), having a shower and cleaning the house. Then when she's done, let's bug her for croissants, sausages and chocolate. No wait. Let's not wait till she's done. Let's keep asking her NOW, and let's make a huge mess while we wait for her to get these things for us. Then when we get to Dablan's house, let's keep bugging mom and telling Dablan we're hungry so he'll bring us cake and goodies. Then on the way home, let's tease our dumbstruck mom about what she's wearing (who is this child? has she suddenly decided to become the worst little nasty bully on the playground? It was one in particular in this case; she shall remain unamed but I will say she is markedly smaller/younger than the other one). Oh, now let's top it off by refusing to go to sleep.
I have to take the reins back. Maybe I'm using too much bribing. This whole martyr/whining schtick is not the norm for me at all. But, to really drive the point, an hour ago, I asked Lauren to stay in her room and somehow through some sweet talk, I suppose, she is currently sleeping in my bed.
What is my problem? I appear, as some wise person must have once quipped, to have a wishbone where my backbone oughta be.
Maybe I feel guilty for bringing them here? That doesn't make sense though since it's the best thing that's ever happened to them, but then again it is not a very usual thing to do...just pick up your kids and go live in France for a while. Could the unusuallness of it be making me worried or even guilty so I'm turning into a pushover?
Maybe it's that I am genuinely so proud of them. Several times a day, I think about how well they're doing and I feel myself beaming with pride about them. This morning, I even thought about writing a blog bragging about them until they started driving me nuts shortly after. Do I get deluded about their preciousness while letting them turn into little beasts.
All I know is that, even after all this struggling today, tonight as I was leaving Lauren in my bed feeling utterly exasperated, she had the gall to refer to a promise I'd made earlier in the day...she started to say: "hey mom, if I'm still sleeping when you make my French toast in the morning..." I stopped her right there. What is wrong with this picture?
I need to become my own super nanny. That's it. Strict schedules and systems of consequences tomorrow. It's amazing how a clearly defined schedule and a consistent consequence can transform the daily lives of a family. I tend to eschew those in my own free spirit ways, but they are so useful with kids.
Another thing I didn't like about today is the major influx of people. Is all of England having a five day "weekend" right now? I ask because I think all of England has shown up in Dinan. (Also we're having a five day "weekend" here in France). Even all our boating neighbors have shown up in the past few days, and, with a few exceptions, most of them are British. A bunch of British kids stopped me in the street (thinking I was a local) and asked me 4 banal questions in the worst french accent you can imagine (I felt pretty smug about it). There seemed to be hundreds of British school groups out yesterday and today. Anyway, it's not their fault; it's just my mood. I'm letting all these small things get to me.
My sense of utter peace with the universe has gone sailing down the Rance river, perhaps. But I do intend to go get that back asap.
In my lax attitude toward my scheduling, I also over scheduled us for tomorrow and now we have to miss a nature walk that I really wanted to do.
And another thing, a la Jerry Seinfield (whom I don't find very funny but I do think it's funny to say the following sentence a la him) What's up with these hormones? I arrived in France on my, what?, 44th birthday. How the? Anyway, here it is and the hormonal changes, especially over the last 2 years, have been shocking. Not that hormonal changes are ever anything but challenging, right. Of course, that is what they are, whether you're in puberty, pregnant, or even just going through regular cyclic fluctuations. After 44 years on the earth, you'd think I would no longer be surprised by all this.
Maybe I just need to go find that zen that I must have misplaced down the River.
"Be still. And know that I am God".
Okay...thanks for letting me vent. Big day tomorrow. Going to party at Pascale and Dablans, and then to the beach with Berengere and the kids. Maybe I should try and squeeze in the nature walk. Saturday we have a playdate and Sunday is the school fundraiser garage sale. I think we'll bring rice crispy squares, and my kids will obey me too, and behave like lovely human beings.
First, the girls. Who's children are these again? One minute everything is great, yet, before I even know what's happening, they're conspiring against me. They're usually responsible and responsive, on some days (and today was one of those) it's all about let's play, goof around and act like monkeys, break things, ignore everything mom asks us to do while she's making breakfast, doing the laundry (by hand), having a shower and cleaning the house. Then when she's done, let's bug her for croissants, sausages and chocolate. No wait. Let's not wait till she's done. Let's keep asking her NOW, and let's make a huge mess while we wait for her to get these things for us. Then when we get to Dablan's house, let's keep bugging mom and telling Dablan we're hungry so he'll bring us cake and goodies. Then on the way home, let's tease our dumbstruck mom about what she's wearing (who is this child? has she suddenly decided to become the worst little nasty bully on the playground? It was one in particular in this case; she shall remain unamed but I will say she is markedly smaller/younger than the other one). Oh, now let's top it off by refusing to go to sleep.
I have to take the reins back. Maybe I'm using too much bribing. This whole martyr/whining schtick is not the norm for me at all. But, to really drive the point, an hour ago, I asked Lauren to stay in her room and somehow through some sweet talk, I suppose, she is currently sleeping in my bed.
What is my problem? I appear, as some wise person must have once quipped, to have a wishbone where my backbone oughta be.
Maybe I feel guilty for bringing them here? That doesn't make sense though since it's the best thing that's ever happened to them, but then again it is not a very usual thing to do...just pick up your kids and go live in France for a while. Could the unusuallness of it be making me worried or even guilty so I'm turning into a pushover?
Maybe it's that I am genuinely so proud of them. Several times a day, I think about how well they're doing and I feel myself beaming with pride about them. This morning, I even thought about writing a blog bragging about them until they started driving me nuts shortly after. Do I get deluded about their preciousness while letting them turn into little beasts.
All I know is that, even after all this struggling today, tonight as I was leaving Lauren in my bed feeling utterly exasperated, she had the gall to refer to a promise I'd made earlier in the day...she started to say: "hey mom, if I'm still sleeping when you make my French toast in the morning..." I stopped her right there. What is wrong with this picture?
I need to become my own super nanny. That's it. Strict schedules and systems of consequences tomorrow. It's amazing how a clearly defined schedule and a consistent consequence can transform the daily lives of a family. I tend to eschew those in my own free spirit ways, but they are so useful with kids.
Another thing I didn't like about today is the major influx of people. Is all of England having a five day "weekend" right now? I ask because I think all of England has shown up in Dinan. (Also we're having a five day "weekend" here in France). Even all our boating neighbors have shown up in the past few days, and, with a few exceptions, most of them are British. A bunch of British kids stopped me in the street (thinking I was a local) and asked me 4 banal questions in the worst french accent you can imagine (I felt pretty smug about it). There seemed to be hundreds of British school groups out yesterday and today. Anyway, it's not their fault; it's just my mood. I'm letting all these small things get to me.
My sense of utter peace with the universe has gone sailing down the Rance river, perhaps. But I do intend to go get that back asap.
In my lax attitude toward my scheduling, I also over scheduled us for tomorrow and now we have to miss a nature walk that I really wanted to do.
And another thing, a la Jerry Seinfield (whom I don't find very funny but I do think it's funny to say the following sentence a la him) What's up with these hormones? I arrived in France on my, what?, 44th birthday. How the? Anyway, here it is and the hormonal changes, especially over the last 2 years, have been shocking. Not that hormonal changes are ever anything but challenging, right. Of course, that is what they are, whether you're in puberty, pregnant, or even just going through regular cyclic fluctuations. After 44 years on the earth, you'd think I would no longer be surprised by all this.
Maybe I just need to go find that zen that I must have misplaced down the River.
"Be still. And know that I am God".
Okay...thanks for letting me vent. Big day tomorrow. Going to party at Pascale and Dablans, and then to the beach with Berengere and the kids. Maybe I should try and squeeze in the nature walk. Saturday we have a playdate and Sunday is the school fundraiser garage sale. I think we'll bring rice crispy squares, and my kids will obey me too, and behave like lovely human beings.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Fun
Just because I can go on for ages about chicken pox, please don't take that to mean I have nothing better to talk about. It's rather a case of so many blog ideas, so little time. The girls and I are are still wide eyed and discovering the many wonders of this storybook town. For all of us, our french is improving constantly. Yesterday, we did my favorite thing, and just walked around town, the city center as well as the nature trails and outlying towns for about 5 miles. I had to bribe the girls to do it (stops at the park and waffle stand), but I think they're also liking it in the end.
Another of our pasttimes is to check out the goings on of our boating neighbors. Actually, it's Lauren's pasttime. Besides our new friend, Peter,we have other neighbors, to whom we've never spoken, but who've been here for several weeks (well, they come and they go), and they anchor right in front of Lauren's bedroom window. Their boat is called the Heron of Gorey, so we just call them "the Heron of Gorey guys". Lauren provides us with updates as to when they're going for breakfast, cleaning the boat, reading, and so on. It's a couple in their 70s, I expect and the man looks like a hearty stocky sailor while she is a tiny little going concern. She and Lauren do wave to each other (each having caught the other spying) and it's just a funny little part of our life here. They've sailed out this afternoon, but, if the past is any indication, they'll be back. And it's high time we meet them.
The weird thing is that Kevin isn't here. That seems so odd and it's an adjustment. We miss him alot, but we certainly don't eat as much meat. ;-)
We also met a woman today on our walk home from school who lives and works on one of the main artists' streets down the road. Do you remember the chat gris? That's Annika's favorite cat to find on the way to school (keeps her attention away from the walk up the steep hill). Anyway, as we found it today, it's Sylivie's cat and her shop. They change the sculptures in the window weekly and today's was intriguing to Lauren, so she asked to go in. We found out not only that it's her husband who does the stunning bronze sculpture (Annika gasped when she saw the one of a male dancer holding a female ballerina high above his head), but also that she's really friendly and her kids are around Lauren's age. She's keen to learn English herself (she already has a language partner, Anglaise) and she wishes her kids would learn more English. "Maybe you girls can be friends," she proposed to Lauren. Lauren did not quite understand what she said, but, I did. You can bet that we will certainly take her up on that offer. The little girl's name is Laura and she's a few months younger than Lauren. Laura also has an older brother about 11, but we didn't get his name.
Well, here are some photos of our walk yesterday....
Here is the plaza heading to the library (straight ahead). Oh actually we did that on Saturday.
Annika posing in the antique shop (note the telltale back of the winding staircase, Dinanaise).
Then we passed a fancy bridal boutique in town and in the window we saw the perfect bride and mother of the bride outfits, I thought, for Lauren and me. But she was not convinced, saying that she would have a nature wedding with a flowing gown and twigs in her hair. So much for my floral taffeta. Maybe I'll wear that at Annika's. Then, 30 minutes later when we were down "in nature", Lauren made a bouquet:
Our favorite boat passed by:
Jaman IV...we really must go on this some time. It's a guided tour in English and French, and I bet they tell some interesting stories and history of the area.
The girls on the bridge.
This one is for you, mom since you requested flowers, and I had just taken this one a few hours before that request. It's not the best flower bed in town...there are hundreds; they are everywhere. I'll keep my eye out when we pass a really spectacular one and the girls are with me. Hopefully we won't be in the car. ;-)
Another of our pasttimes is to check out the goings on of our boating neighbors. Actually, it's Lauren's pasttime. Besides our new friend, Peter,we have other neighbors, to whom we've never spoken, but who've been here for several weeks (well, they come and they go), and they anchor right in front of Lauren's bedroom window. Their boat is called the Heron of Gorey, so we just call them "the Heron of Gorey guys". Lauren provides us with updates as to when they're going for breakfast, cleaning the boat, reading, and so on. It's a couple in their 70s, I expect and the man looks like a hearty stocky sailor while she is a tiny little going concern. She and Lauren do wave to each other (each having caught the other spying) and it's just a funny little part of our life here. They've sailed out this afternoon, but, if the past is any indication, they'll be back. And it's high time we meet them.
The weird thing is that Kevin isn't here. That seems so odd and it's an adjustment. We miss him alot, but we certainly don't eat as much meat. ;-)
We also met a woman today on our walk home from school who lives and works on one of the main artists' streets down the road. Do you remember the chat gris? That's Annika's favorite cat to find on the way to school (keeps her attention away from the walk up the steep hill). Anyway, as we found it today, it's Sylivie's cat and her shop. They change the sculptures in the window weekly and today's was intriguing to Lauren, so she asked to go in. We found out not only that it's her husband who does the stunning bronze sculpture (Annika gasped when she saw the one of a male dancer holding a female ballerina high above his head), but also that she's really friendly and her kids are around Lauren's age. She's keen to learn English herself (she already has a language partner, Anglaise) and she wishes her kids would learn more English. "Maybe you girls can be friends," she proposed to Lauren. Lauren did not quite understand what she said, but, I did. You can bet that we will certainly take her up on that offer. The little girl's name is Laura and she's a few months younger than Lauren. Laura also has an older brother about 11, but we didn't get his name.
Well, here are some photos of our walk yesterday....
Here is the plaza heading to the library (straight ahead). Oh actually we did that on Saturday.
Annika posing in the antique shop (note the telltale back of the winding staircase, Dinanaise).
Then we passed a fancy bridal boutique in town and in the window we saw the perfect bride and mother of the bride outfits, I thought, for Lauren and me. But she was not convinced, saying that she would have a nature wedding with a flowing gown and twigs in her hair. So much for my floral taffeta. Maybe I'll wear that at Annika's. Then, 30 minutes later when we were down "in nature", Lauren made a bouquet:
Our favorite boat passed by:
Jaman IV...we really must go on this some time. It's a guided tour in English and French, and I bet they tell some interesting stories and history of the area.
The girls on the bridge.
This one is for you, mom since you requested flowers, and I had just taken this one a few hours before that request. It's not the best flower bed in town...there are hundreds; they are everywhere. I'll keep my eye out when we pass a really spectacular one and the girls are with me. Hopefully we won't be in the car. ;-)
Chicken Pox
What does that word do to you?
Some people seem so freaked out by it, and I've never understood why. It's such a small deal. At least when you're a little kid, it is.
When Annika's teacher told me when we first arrived that some of the kids were coming down with "la varicelle", I just smiled, thinking "one more thing to love about France". I have spent the last few years chasing down chicken pox in my moms email groups (the natural health ones) trying to get natural (ie oral) immunity booster rather than having to resort to getting it, grown in a lab, complete with additives and preservatives straight into the bloodstream. Yes, the varicella vaccine is causing a lower incidence of natural chicken pox disease in children, but some scientists believe that this is responsible for the incidence of shingles rising. Having chicken pox used to confer lifelong immunity to varicella, but that depended on getting your yearly or bi-yearly dose of natural booster. Our miraculous immune system would be stimulated by the virus entering our system and it would reach into those antibodies we developed when we had the disease (I think the antibodies are stored somewhere in our miraculous spines), and being activated by a natural introduction of the virus, they come out and fight the virus. Meanwhile, we go through our lives not even knowing that little war was going on. It seems like a great system. But without the booster of having chicken pox circulating around so much, we are missing our annual exposure, so our antibodies are essentially getting weaker, as the theory goes. Soon we'll all be told we need shingles shots to get our boosters. Yuck.
My kids got chicken pox in 2006 from my Aunt who had shingles. She was so sorry about it but I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. And the next year, when a family at church were excessively aplolegetic about having had their kids for a day in VBS before discovering they had chicken pox, I was enthusiastic. "Oh, don't worry, I said; in fact, can my kids play with your sick kids today?" She didn't take me up on it though. Some people don't go for this theory. Our music teacher, Sharla, on the other hand, understood it, and even though she shut down her house for all lessons when her teenaged son came down with shingles (he had had a chicken pox vaccine as a child), she allowed us to come over when I explained I wanted us to have boosters.
The only required vaccine in France is the Diptheria, Tetnus, Polio, and those are all reasonable vaccines. Even the MMR is not required here though it is recommended. I do believe it could be because France's whole government, and legal system is set up to ensure that they all pay for everyone else's healthcare. One person's health or educational problem is everyone's. If one child gets injured from a vaccine, the country will pay for that person's educational and health interventions for life. Having kids have a few days of red spots is still considered a better option than the hospitalizations, pain and time off work caused by shingles later. And shingles cases have risen dramatically in the U.S. since the widespread use of varicella vaccine. Coincidence? I don't want to take that chance. Also while it's the CDC and the College of Physicians and Surgeons who recommend kids get this varicella vaccine, it's not them who pay for any bad results from it. It's private insurers if you're one of the privledged ones with private health care. Oh, and I didn't mention the Pharmaceutical companies who also have great profits from vaccines but don't pay for much of the consequences. (A small fraction of these profits easily pay google to put their misinformation on the first 1,000 returns of a search for "varicella vaccine", but for a more balanced picture, I recommend searching wikipedia, or speaking to an unbiased bio-chemist or doctor.)
Anyway, I'm ranting on here, but all this is to say that I was very happy to arrive in France and find out that this year's wave of chicken pox was currently going through the school. Then two weeks later, one of Annika's friends in class came to school, but her mom was called at lunch because her spots were showing up in an impressive and rapid display before everyone's eyes. She was in her most contagious state and she was in class that morning. And to top it off, we ran into the girl and her mom in the grocery store later. I chatted with the mom, comiserating about her having to prepare a few days' worth of oatmeal baths and movies while the girls chased each other around our legs. I kind of really wanted to drag this conversation out because, well, I like converstations genuinely, but, of course, I had an agenda as well. Well, finally it was her turn to talk to the cashier so I had to let her go.
"Okay, tell Caroline you'll see her later in the week or next week", I said, "big hugs now, gros bisous (that's it...french style, two kisses right on the those chicken pocked cheeks)".
That should take care of us for another year or two.
Some people seem so freaked out by it, and I've never understood why. It's such a small deal. At least when you're a little kid, it is.
When Annika's teacher told me when we first arrived that some of the kids were coming down with "la varicelle", I just smiled, thinking "one more thing to love about France". I have spent the last few years chasing down chicken pox in my moms email groups (the natural health ones) trying to get natural (ie oral) immunity booster rather than having to resort to getting it, grown in a lab, complete with additives and preservatives straight into the bloodstream. Yes, the varicella vaccine is causing a lower incidence of natural chicken pox disease in children, but some scientists believe that this is responsible for the incidence of shingles rising. Having chicken pox used to confer lifelong immunity to varicella, but that depended on getting your yearly or bi-yearly dose of natural booster. Our miraculous immune system would be stimulated by the virus entering our system and it would reach into those antibodies we developed when we had the disease (I think the antibodies are stored somewhere in our miraculous spines), and being activated by a natural introduction of the virus, they come out and fight the virus. Meanwhile, we go through our lives not even knowing that little war was going on. It seems like a great system. But without the booster of having chicken pox circulating around so much, we are missing our annual exposure, so our antibodies are essentially getting weaker, as the theory goes. Soon we'll all be told we need shingles shots to get our boosters. Yuck.
My kids got chicken pox in 2006 from my Aunt who had shingles. She was so sorry about it but I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. And the next year, when a family at church were excessively aplolegetic about having had their kids for a day in VBS before discovering they had chicken pox, I was enthusiastic. "Oh, don't worry, I said; in fact, can my kids play with your sick kids today?" She didn't take me up on it though. Some people don't go for this theory. Our music teacher, Sharla, on the other hand, understood it, and even though she shut down her house for all lessons when her teenaged son came down with shingles (he had had a chicken pox vaccine as a child), she allowed us to come over when I explained I wanted us to have boosters.
The only required vaccine in France is the Diptheria, Tetnus, Polio, and those are all reasonable vaccines. Even the MMR is not required here though it is recommended. I do believe it could be because France's whole government, and legal system is set up to ensure that they all pay for everyone else's healthcare. One person's health or educational problem is everyone's. If one child gets injured from a vaccine, the country will pay for that person's educational and health interventions for life. Having kids have a few days of red spots is still considered a better option than the hospitalizations, pain and time off work caused by shingles later. And shingles cases have risen dramatically in the U.S. since the widespread use of varicella vaccine. Coincidence? I don't want to take that chance. Also while it's the CDC and the College of Physicians and Surgeons who recommend kids get this varicella vaccine, it's not them who pay for any bad results from it. It's private insurers if you're one of the privledged ones with private health care. Oh, and I didn't mention the Pharmaceutical companies who also have great profits from vaccines but don't pay for much of the consequences. (A small fraction of these profits easily pay google to put their misinformation on the first 1,000 returns of a search for "varicella vaccine", but for a more balanced picture, I recommend searching wikipedia, or speaking to an unbiased bio-chemist or doctor.)
Anyway, I'm ranting on here, but all this is to say that I was very happy to arrive in France and find out that this year's wave of chicken pox was currently going through the school. Then two weeks later, one of Annika's friends in class came to school, but her mom was called at lunch because her spots were showing up in an impressive and rapid display before everyone's eyes. She was in her most contagious state and she was in class that morning. And to top it off, we ran into the girl and her mom in the grocery store later. I chatted with the mom, comiserating about her having to prepare a few days' worth of oatmeal baths and movies while the girls chased each other around our legs. I kind of really wanted to drag this conversation out because, well, I like converstations genuinely, but, of course, I had an agenda as well. Well, finally it was her turn to talk to the cashier so I had to let her go.
"Okay, tell Caroline you'll see her later in the week or next week", I said, "big hugs now, gros bisous (that's it...french style, two kisses right on the those chicken pocked cheeks)".
That should take care of us for another year or two.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Here's what we've been up to lately....
Introducing, the fabulous, Mael....
This is Mael, Lauren's friend who presented us with a formal invitation the other day for Lauren to come over for a playdate, at their family's apartment.
When I first met this girl, I immediately adored her. I wish I could accurately describe the look on her face when we first met. I can say that I've never (and yes I mean never) seen such a smile. It was as if she (or her expression) was saying, "look...we're finally meeting...isn't it just so wonderful." Can you see it? Well, okay, how about: try to imagine the look on your best friend's face if you both just found out that you had won a million dollars. That was Mael's expression to me the first time I ever met her. I was wondering, "wow...were you praying for us to come? Did you already meet us in a dream?" But, of course, I didn't ask that; I just tried to return a smile with something near the enthusiasm of hers. Since that first magical moment, every morning she greets Lauren and makes sure that she's done her Cantine card (to order lunch), and that she had a good evening etc, chatting away to her as she brings her into the school. Mael also has asked me twice if we'll be back next year. I told her I hope so, but I think I better be clear with her that, realistically it will take quite a few months or even a year or more before we know. Microsoft isn't doing many relocations these days, and the chance of a relocation soon is slim. She has ensured that she will have our address to write us when we're not here. Mais oui, bien sur!
Her brother, Gwendal is also one of Annika's favorite classmates. He's a sweet boy too, funny and observant. He reminds me of a cross between my nephews Justin and Ryan.
At first, I thought their mom was unfriendly, and I wondered how she could have such amicable kids when she seemed so reserved, stone faced as far as I could tell, and seemingly pretty no-nonsense with the kids. She and I were both parent volunteers a few weeks ago at a swimming class. She didn't say one word to me, and even when I spoke to her, but she walked away, not hearing me. But then another day I struck up a conversation with her and, sure enough, though still not exactly chatty, she flashed a smile you could warm your hands by, and I thought, "Okay, there it is". Karine is her name, and she works part time at a retirement home. Her husband, Phillipe, is a policeman, so they live in the state housing for policemen...it's an apartment building right down the road from the school. Phillipe said that if we ever need anything, information or anything, just give him a call. Sweet. A policman that we know personally who offered to help if we need anything!
So, after Lauren's playdate with Mael, we were walking home and the girls were nagging me to go out for crepes. Then it started to rain, and my resolve weakened.
.
This is a creperie that we pass on the hill everyday. And everyday, they have the Runicula bouquets that are so incredibly beautiful. And can you see the flowering lilac plant hanging outside? It was a humid night and the smell was so divine that I could not resist standing under them, and then once the owner Patrick came out find out what I was doing, I could not resist going in.
You will need to click on this one to see the details of the lilac, and outside bouquets.
Do you see the glasses are hanging on the back of a winding staircase? It leads up to the home of the owners of this restaurant. As is typical in Dinan, the shop owners also live at their shop. It's like a storybook or at least Sesame Street in the "these are the people in your neighborhood" way...or maybe that was Mr. Rogers. In any case, it reminds of another time when it was individuals, yes real people and not corporations or franchises that moved the commerce of the city.
Music Class
Today, I went with Annika's class to their music lesson at the main music school in town. The kids are working on a show for the end of the year. They're doing interpretive movement to a classical piece (not sure which one it is yet), and the kids are fish and some are "the whale" with a sheet, some intruments and lots of "swimming" around the stage. It's going to be fabulous.
Here we are walking to class...
Ooops. I'm is distracting her, and she's not one not to pose.
Speaking of which...here are some photos I took and St. Malo a few weeks ago. (I know, I wish I'd gotten more pink rubber boot and less space at the top)
Random shots of Annika at the beach at St. Malo a few weeks ago. (They were just too cute for me to not put in).
Peter's boat.
I hope to get a shot of Peter soon. He has a great face. It's calm and kind. There is a kind of peace that I'm not used to seeing that I see in the face of this man who's been sailing the world for at least the last 7 years. I don't know what he did before; I just know he got the sailboat 7 years ago. ll have him for lunch or dinner sometime, hopefully.
Also, another bit of news is that I started my language exchange yesterday with Dablan. He brought a recipe for me in French because, he reasoned, it comes with a picture so that would help me to learn vocabulary (he's a University Professor of Geography). He teased me that Canadians and Americans don't know anything about cooking, so maybe I could learn some important things through these "recipe lessons". I took offence of course, and tried to defend our whole continent. I do personally know a number of Canadians and Americans who can cook. I was a terrible representative though; the truth soon revealed itself (doesn't it always eventually) when I didn't know the difference between a turnip and a parsnip...as well, I didn't know why you would hang a filet of beef in a boullion from a string and a stick rather than just let it drop in the broth. Well, Dablan informs me it's because the bottom of the pot is way too hot and that will overcook the beef, don't you know?
Okay, but I got him back because I had prepared for him a lesson on The Tale of Despereaux and it opens with the main character's mother who is a vain, no, narcissitic, and yes, French, mouse, named Antoinette. Dablan laughed. He can dish it out and take it. He seems like a very joyful soul, and, again, I'm so lucky that he agreed to do this exchange with me. In fact, I better go because he's determined to learn English, he tells me, so he wants to meet again tomorrow, so I better get preparing that lesson.
One last bit of news is that the Yamamoto family whom I love so much are all coming here in June; well most of them at least, and to Paris at least. The King family will come here to Dinan, and then we'll all go meet the whole gang. It's just super darling!
A la prochain...
This is Mael, Lauren's friend who presented us with a formal invitation the other day for Lauren to come over for a playdate, at their family's apartment.
When I first met this girl, I immediately adored her. I wish I could accurately describe the look on her face when we first met. I can say that I've never (and yes I mean never) seen such a smile. It was as if she (or her expression) was saying, "look...we're finally meeting...isn't it just so wonderful." Can you see it? Well, okay, how about: try to imagine the look on your best friend's face if you both just found out that you had won a million dollars. That was Mael's expression to me the first time I ever met her. I was wondering, "wow...were you praying for us to come? Did you already meet us in a dream?" But, of course, I didn't ask that; I just tried to return a smile with something near the enthusiasm of hers. Since that first magical moment, every morning she greets Lauren and makes sure that she's done her Cantine card (to order lunch), and that she had a good evening etc, chatting away to her as she brings her into the school. Mael also has asked me twice if we'll be back next year. I told her I hope so, but I think I better be clear with her that, realistically it will take quite a few months or even a year or more before we know. Microsoft isn't doing many relocations these days, and the chance of a relocation soon is slim. She has ensured that she will have our address to write us when we're not here. Mais oui, bien sur!
Her brother, Gwendal is also one of Annika's favorite classmates. He's a sweet boy too, funny and observant. He reminds me of a cross between my nephews Justin and Ryan.
At first, I thought their mom was unfriendly, and I wondered how she could have such amicable kids when she seemed so reserved, stone faced as far as I could tell, and seemingly pretty no-nonsense with the kids. She and I were both parent volunteers a few weeks ago at a swimming class. She didn't say one word to me, and even when I spoke to her, but she walked away, not hearing me. But then another day I struck up a conversation with her and, sure enough, though still not exactly chatty, she flashed a smile you could warm your hands by, and I thought, "Okay, there it is". Karine is her name, and she works part time at a retirement home. Her husband, Phillipe, is a policeman, so they live in the state housing for policemen...it's an apartment building right down the road from the school. Phillipe said that if we ever need anything, information or anything, just give him a call. Sweet. A policman that we know personally who offered to help if we need anything!
So, after Lauren's playdate with Mael, we were walking home and the girls were nagging me to go out for crepes. Then it started to rain, and my resolve weakened.
.
This is a creperie that we pass on the hill everyday. And everyday, they have the Runicula bouquets that are so incredibly beautiful. And can you see the flowering lilac plant hanging outside? It was a humid night and the smell was so divine that I could not resist standing under them, and then once the owner Patrick came out find out what I was doing, I could not resist going in.
You will need to click on this one to see the details of the lilac, and outside bouquets.
Do you see the glasses are hanging on the back of a winding staircase? It leads up to the home of the owners of this restaurant. As is typical in Dinan, the shop owners also live at their shop. It's like a storybook or at least Sesame Street in the "these are the people in your neighborhood" way...or maybe that was Mr. Rogers. In any case, it reminds of another time when it was individuals, yes real people and not corporations or franchises that moved the commerce of the city.
Music Class
Today, I went with Annika's class to their music lesson at the main music school in town. The kids are working on a show for the end of the year. They're doing interpretive movement to a classical piece (not sure which one it is yet), and the kids are fish and some are "the whale" with a sheet, some intruments and lots of "swimming" around the stage. It's going to be fabulous.
Here we are walking to class...
Ooops. I'm is distracting her, and she's not one not to pose.
Speaking of which...here are some photos I took and St. Malo a few weeks ago. (I know, I wish I'd gotten more pink rubber boot and less space at the top)
Random shots of Annika at the beach at St. Malo a few weeks ago. (They were just too cute for me to not put in).
Peter's boat.
I hope to get a shot of Peter soon. He has a great face. It's calm and kind. There is a kind of peace that I'm not used to seeing that I see in the face of this man who's been sailing the world for at least the last 7 years. I don't know what he did before; I just know he got the sailboat 7 years ago. ll have him for lunch or dinner sometime, hopefully.
Also, another bit of news is that I started my language exchange yesterday with Dablan. He brought a recipe for me in French because, he reasoned, it comes with a picture so that would help me to learn vocabulary (he's a University Professor of Geography). He teased me that Canadians and Americans don't know anything about cooking, so maybe I could learn some important things through these "recipe lessons". I took offence of course, and tried to defend our whole continent. I do personally know a number of Canadians and Americans who can cook. I was a terrible representative though; the truth soon revealed itself (doesn't it always eventually) when I didn't know the difference between a turnip and a parsnip...as well, I didn't know why you would hang a filet of beef in a boullion from a string and a stick rather than just let it drop in the broth. Well, Dablan informs me it's because the bottom of the pot is way too hot and that will overcook the beef, don't you know?
Okay, but I got him back because I had prepared for him a lesson on The Tale of Despereaux and it opens with the main character's mother who is a vain, no, narcissitic, and yes, French, mouse, named Antoinette. Dablan laughed. He can dish it out and take it. He seems like a very joyful soul, and, again, I'm so lucky that he agreed to do this exchange with me. In fact, I better go because he's determined to learn English, he tells me, so he wants to meet again tomorrow, so I better get preparing that lesson.
One last bit of news is that the Yamamoto family whom I love so much are all coming here in June; well most of them at least, and to Paris at least. The King family will come here to Dinan, and then we'll all go meet the whole gang. It's just super darling!
A la prochain...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Peter
We have a new neighbor. He lives in his boat across the street. Well, he called it his "home away from home". Some time ago, he and his wife bought the sailboat in Victoria, B.C. and sailed it to France. It took them 9 months, and now they moore it on the dock across from our place. Their home at home is San Francisco...maybe it's their winter home, and I guess they're retired. He and his wife apparently just flew in to Paris for a wedding, and he came up to work on the boat before driving up to Paris to join his wife for the wedding, and then bring her back here. Sometime this summer, they'll sail around Europe, he says, and they're not sure where yet. I guess that means that literally, they'll go wherever the wind takes them. He's totally a kindred spirit and I'm glad to meet our new neighbor whose boat home is from Victoria. What a small world.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
What a beautiful weekend
Another miracle is how well everything worked out this weekend, considering that we did everything spontaneously, as the mood struck us. Every day here is a magical adventure anyway, like we're walking in the pages of a fanciful storybook. (Well, it is when it's not raining; it's a bit more dark in the rain..it is raining now as I correct this entry, but it wasn't this weekend...no, no!)
Friday, we ran into friends at the park and went minigolfing (see photos and commentary below). Then Saturday, Lauren was again itching to go minigolfing after reading that Tiger Woods visualizes his wins before hitting. Armed with visions of holes in one, she was on a mission to improve her score. We walked past the library on the way and ended up going in, then (much to Lauren's irritation) we jaunted over to the bank to get money to buy a library card, then returned to browse this big library's lovely selection. This detour not only got us some great music, books and movies for the weekend, it also got us to the park in perfect time to meet up with several friends from school, including Malou again(see Friday's pics) as well as her sister Amelie who is one of Lauren's "girl-illa" friends. We all had a glorious time minigolfing, and enjoying the park. Lauren won.
Then we stopped by the butcher and the bakery on the way home; it was warm, Saturday night, and the shops and streets were more lively than usual. We ran into to James, the British half of the half-British kids at the school, and he kindly invited us for a drink on a patio. He's hilarious (kind of a cross between John Cleese and Frost from Frost/Nixon). He drives a Jaguar and is about 65 (while his kids are 11 and 9 and his wife about 40). He's retired from the British military and he's lived in Dinan for 20 years. All the shopkeepers know him by name. When we ran into him at the butcher, he was gathering ingredients to make dinner the following night for all his wife's family, dinner for 18. He's also a chef in his spare time.
So, home we went after that, tired and happy. Then we talked to Kevin right before bed. Oh, well, Annika went to bed while Lauren and I watch a 1999 version of Alice in Wonderland with very high end cast, like Martin Short, and Gene Wilder among others. I think it was Alec Guinness who played the walrus man who said, "The time has come, my friends, to speak of many things...". It was a great movie, a wonderful discovery to end a day of discoveries.
Then today, we went chez Pascale and her husband, Dablan (Pascale is one of the teachers at the school). Dablan is going to be my "language partner" and help me learn French while I help him with his English. This couple seem like two more wonderful hidden jewels that we found this weekend. They have 4 kids, aged 22-30, even though they themselves seem so young (they're probably just 10 years older than I, so, yes, young, baby, really y-o-u-n-g). One of their sons is an amazing artist and their living room is covered in his stunning work. Pascale also, besides being a grade 1 teacher, is a fabulous artist. Her ceramic sculptures also grace this wonderful room all inside an lovely maison, built 100 years ago in gorgeous stone. AND, as it happens, I've always harbored and desire to try sculpture, or some kind of 3-d visual art. And Pascale said she'd take me with her to the class she attends. Can you believe it? The kids are getting a social life, and it looks like I am too. Oh, and we did also have a lovely visit, all speaking in French, and inspite of a few stalls, I felt really comfortable and so thrilled for this amazing chanced to meet and speak with them. I'm so grateful to God for all these blessings.
We're in McDonalds again, using the internet (for which the kids are infinitely grateful, or, if not infinitely, at least until they get hungry again tomorrow)...and there' s not really more to say than thank you. A la prochaine.
Oh, I forgot to mention the one really bad part about today is that Lauren scalded her hand on boiling water. I think it might be quite bad because it still hurts and I'm trying to decide if I should try and find emergency medical care...there are no blisters but a large red spot that's been hurting for a few hours despite asprin and ice. I better go research. Please pray.
And later....
Can you guess the denoument of this sad story of poor little Lauren and her little scalded hand? If you guessed that I had run out of children’s pain medicine at home, and Lauren’s latest ice pack had melted right about the time that the line in McDonalds was out the door with (presumably) hungry travellers on their way home after a long weekend, and that her pain was apparently becoming unbearable (though there were no blisters and it was 4-5 hours after the original scald), and that my rational mind was telling me it was not a major injury, my emotional mind (if there is such a thing) was telling me to freak out because my baby was hurting, and, if also you thinking that someone had told me there was a phone number to call to find the one pharmacie that was open on Sunday (the towns’ pharmacies in France are obliged to rotate with all the others for the Sunday open), and that searching for this elusive number on the internet was fruitless, then you’d be correct. Breath. If you then guessed that I decided to just go “where the spirit led me”, getting in the car and driving through Dinan, and if you then thought I probably turned a corner and saw the flashing green cross that indicates an open pharmacie, again, you would be correct. We were all so grateful for the cooling gel and children’s pain killer. And that was another solved pain in the hand for Lauren.
Friday, we ran into friends at the park and went minigolfing (see photos and commentary below). Then Saturday, Lauren was again itching to go minigolfing after reading that Tiger Woods visualizes his wins before hitting. Armed with visions of holes in one, she was on a mission to improve her score. We walked past the library on the way and ended up going in, then (much to Lauren's irritation) we jaunted over to the bank to get money to buy a library card, then returned to browse this big library's lovely selection. This detour not only got us some great music, books and movies for the weekend, it also got us to the park in perfect time to meet up with several friends from school, including Malou again(see Friday's pics) as well as her sister Amelie who is one of Lauren's "girl-illa" friends. We all had a glorious time minigolfing, and enjoying the park. Lauren won.
Then we stopped by the butcher and the bakery on the way home; it was warm, Saturday night, and the shops and streets were more lively than usual. We ran into to James, the British half of the half-British kids at the school, and he kindly invited us for a drink on a patio. He's hilarious (kind of a cross between John Cleese and Frost from Frost/Nixon). He drives a Jaguar and is about 65 (while his kids are 11 and 9 and his wife about 40). He's retired from the British military and he's lived in Dinan for 20 years. All the shopkeepers know him by name. When we ran into him at the butcher, he was gathering ingredients to make dinner the following night for all his wife's family, dinner for 18. He's also a chef in his spare time.
So, home we went after that, tired and happy. Then we talked to Kevin right before bed. Oh, well, Annika went to bed while Lauren and I watch a 1999 version of Alice in Wonderland with very high end cast, like Martin Short, and Gene Wilder among others. I think it was Alec Guinness who played the walrus man who said, "The time has come, my friends, to speak of many things...". It was a great movie, a wonderful discovery to end a day of discoveries.
Then today, we went chez Pascale and her husband, Dablan (Pascale is one of the teachers at the school). Dablan is going to be my "language partner" and help me learn French while I help him with his English. This couple seem like two more wonderful hidden jewels that we found this weekend. They have 4 kids, aged 22-30, even though they themselves seem so young (they're probably just 10 years older than I, so, yes, young, baby, really y-o-u-n-g). One of their sons is an amazing artist and their living room is covered in his stunning work. Pascale also, besides being a grade 1 teacher, is a fabulous artist. Her ceramic sculptures also grace this wonderful room all inside an lovely maison, built 100 years ago in gorgeous stone. AND, as it happens, I've always harbored and desire to try sculpture, or some kind of 3-d visual art. And Pascale said she'd take me with her to the class she attends. Can you believe it? The kids are getting a social life, and it looks like I am too. Oh, and we did also have a lovely visit, all speaking in French, and inspite of a few stalls, I felt really comfortable and so thrilled for this amazing chanced to meet and speak with them. I'm so grateful to God for all these blessings.
We're in McDonalds again, using the internet (for which the kids are infinitely grateful, or, if not infinitely, at least until they get hungry again tomorrow)...and there' s not really more to say than thank you. A la prochaine.
Oh, I forgot to mention the one really bad part about today is that Lauren scalded her hand on boiling water. I think it might be quite bad because it still hurts and I'm trying to decide if I should try and find emergency medical care...there are no blisters but a large red spot that's been hurting for a few hours despite asprin and ice. I better go research. Please pray.
And later....
Can you guess the denoument of this sad story of poor little Lauren and her little scalded hand? If you guessed that I had run out of children’s pain medicine at home, and Lauren’s latest ice pack had melted right about the time that the line in McDonalds was out the door with (presumably) hungry travellers on their way home after a long weekend, and that her pain was apparently becoming unbearable (though there were no blisters and it was 4-5 hours after the original scald), and that my rational mind was telling me it was not a major injury, my emotional mind (if there is such a thing) was telling me to freak out because my baby was hurting, and, if also you thinking that someone had told me there was a phone number to call to find the one pharmacie that was open on Sunday (the towns’ pharmacies in France are obliged to rotate with all the others for the Sunday open), and that searching for this elusive number on the internet was fruitless, then you’d be correct. Breath. If you then guessed that I decided to just go “where the spirit led me”, getting in the car and driving through Dinan, and if you then thought I probably turned a corner and saw the flashing green cross that indicates an open pharmacie, again, you would be correct. We were all so grateful for the cooling gel and children’s pain killer. And that was another solved pain in the hand for Lauren.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Mini Golf yesterday, and a few random shots...ps. Happy Mother's Day
Actually Mother's Day in France is June 7, so we have a good excuse for a prolonged celebration.
We went to the park yesterday, and had fun on the playground and playing minigolf. One of the moms told me that this park is a good place to see friends from the school, and sure enough we did. Actually though, we see our school friends everywhere because this is such a small town. It's like a sea of tourists with school friends sprinkled in between. On the way home from the park yesterday, we took a wrong road and ended up in Lehon, 2 km away from home, but we had a lovely walk home along the Rance, and once she realized there was nothing anyone could really do for her but sympathize, the "pain" in Annika's leg seemed to disappear. However, then Annika appeared to have been stung by stinging nettle, complaining of a pricked finger (coincidence because Lauren touched this a few days ago), so then we ran into another mom from the school, and I was able to explain the cause for Annika's wailing ("elle s'est pique par l'ortie"...which I knew from the earlier incident) and that mom went straight to another plant, pealed the leaf off to reveal an wet inner leaf and rubbed it on Annika's finger. Miracle cure! I have to say that Annika did really well yesterday, considering she walked about 6-8 kilometers. Yah! Growing up is fun...I miss the babies, but seeing my kids get stronger and develop stamina is wonderful (not to mention the advantages for more fun walks).
The girls loved playing minigolf yesterday.
Fortunately, we ran into Malou at the park...she is one of the sweetest girls in Annika's class. Her parents own a gift shop up the street, and she has an equally sweet sister, Amelie, in Lauren's class (one of the group I fondly refer to as "the Gorillas"). Malou found a shell the other day in the playground, a tiny snail shell, and she presented it to me, "C'est pour vous". I will treasure it (and her) for as long as I can think of, friend for life. Also, she's wearing ladybug earrings here in this picture, which is a long and perhaps silly story, but still, ladybugs mean a lot to me.
Malou is so shy and polite, but after struggling with a few holes, she said, "j'espere gagner cette fois-ci", (I hope to win this time), and sure enough, she did that hole at par, better than Lauren and Annika. It's like Tiger Woods says, you have to visualize the win before you win. It was so cute they way the girls were working together and saying, "Bravo" to each other.
Louanne, Caroline and Annika at swimming class.
The Center square in Dinan
We went to the park yesterday, and had fun on the playground and playing minigolf. One of the moms told me that this park is a good place to see friends from the school, and sure enough we did. Actually though, we see our school friends everywhere because this is such a small town. It's like a sea of tourists with school friends sprinkled in between. On the way home from the park yesterday, we took a wrong road and ended up in Lehon, 2 km away from home, but we had a lovely walk home along the Rance, and once she realized there was nothing anyone could really do for her but sympathize, the "pain" in Annika's leg seemed to disappear. However, then Annika appeared to have been stung by stinging nettle, complaining of a pricked finger (coincidence because Lauren touched this a few days ago), so then we ran into another mom from the school, and I was able to explain the cause for Annika's wailing ("elle s'est pique par l'ortie"...which I knew from the earlier incident) and that mom went straight to another plant, pealed the leaf off to reveal an wet inner leaf and rubbed it on Annika's finger. Miracle cure! I have to say that Annika did really well yesterday, considering she walked about 6-8 kilometers. Yah! Growing up is fun...I miss the babies, but seeing my kids get stronger and develop stamina is wonderful (not to mention the advantages for more fun walks).
The girls loved playing minigolf yesterday.
Fortunately, we ran into Malou at the park...she is one of the sweetest girls in Annika's class. Her parents own a gift shop up the street, and she has an equally sweet sister, Amelie, in Lauren's class (one of the group I fondly refer to as "the Gorillas"). Malou found a shell the other day in the playground, a tiny snail shell, and she presented it to me, "C'est pour vous". I will treasure it (and her) for as long as I can think of, friend for life. Also, she's wearing ladybug earrings here in this picture, which is a long and perhaps silly story, but still, ladybugs mean a lot to me.
Malou is so shy and polite, but after struggling with a few holes, she said, "j'espere gagner cette fois-ci", (I hope to win this time), and sure enough, she did that hole at par, better than Lauren and Annika. It's like Tiger Woods says, you have to visualize the win before you win. It was so cute they way the girls were working together and saying, "Bravo" to each other.
Louanne, Caroline and Annika at swimming class.
The Center square in Dinan
Friday, May 8, 2009
A little walk after dinner last night.
On the wall of Dinan, looking down at the port.
And from futher up. Even Annika is getting really good at walking...we got lost yesterday(not on the walk pictured here but the next day) and got to the neighboring town of Lehon before realizing, four hours later (from when we started our walk to the park) we were back at home. There was only five minutes of, "mom, my legs hurt; I wish we had a stroller; I want to go to India". (now that last comment was precipitated either by my recent thinking that maybe India is next or by Annika's current fascination with the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack.)
Our front yard.
Down the road.
Les terasses
A restaurant on the street where they always have beautiful fresh flowers.
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