School, Gorillas, Parks, Moms and what should we do this long weekend?

A great thing about homeschooling is the fabulous fieldtrips, of which this sejour in France is certainly one. But, quite shockingly, Annika seems to have had enough fabulousness for one fieldtrip. She keeps saying things like, “well, France was fun, now let’s go home”. “If daddy can go home, why can’t I?”
And we thought that Annika, with her propensity to love everyone and have them love her back, would blossom with all the opportunities to make new friends. Also with her great ear for tones, we thought she’d love learning French. And, on the other hand, we thought Lauren, because of her tendency to be quiet and contemplative in a group, would have more troubles adjusting. Well, it just shows you not to be so sure of your expectations…especially when it comes to your kids. I’ve heard more experienced parents say this, but still it’s surprising every time. Apparently, it’s the kids’ job to turn their parents expectations on their heads and it’s the parents’ job to continue to be surprised every time.

It is so cute how Lauren’s friends have taken her under their collective wing. I’m trying to think of what kind of animal takes a newcomer in like this, instructing them in the ways of the tribe. I assume birds do it; hence the metaphor “take under the wing”. I recall hearing at a zoo demonstration once that gorillas do it. Well, Lauren loves being the new gorilla...and what’s not to love, as she is lapping up every bit of attention and encouragement from these nurturing little gorillas…I mean sweet girls. They seem to be always around her, checking that she’s got her lunch card or that she knows what’s coming up next. At lunch and recess, they seek the British girl to translate a list of things that they have to say to Lauren. They are always drawing pictures and writing notes as little gifts to each other.

Their class had a track meet the other day, competing against some other schools in the area, and I went along to help them with timing the 50 meter race (and to practice my French…adding up times, and points in French…it was fun). Lauren was “the strongest girl on their team”, her friends told me, in the long jump and the 1200 meter run. They were swinging her around and saying “Bravo, Bravo” to her. How cute is that for a mother to see? (thank you Cascade Striders training) They also shout “Bravo!” when she comes out with a sentence or even a new word in French, which, surprisingly, is not often. That’s another thing I didn’t quite expect. Lauren usually has the type of mind that seizes on information and asks a lot of questions, wanting to know about things at a very detailed level. She also has a memory like a steel trap. I thought she would be more like this when acquiring the language, but she seems, rather, to sit back and let it all just float around in her brain, without venturing to use the language much. “I’m going through immersion” she tells me, having heard me spout theories on language acquisition. And, I know she understands more than she will speak because she can answer people’s questions with yes or no, for example. And she imitates how French people use facial expressions and how they use a napkin at the table, as another example.

Then there’s little Annika who has actually memorized and uses more French phrases, and her accent is perfect. And, I guess it’s just her age, but the kids in her class can be quite loud and rambunctious and when she tries to get in the fray, she ends up overwhelmed, either in tears or having been offended by someone laughing at her or, she says, showing her their tongue or their stomach. It’s a bit of a contrast to her small preschool class where she was pretty much the love of everyone’s life, and vice versa. Now, she’s just the new English girl (that’s what the kids call her), and the kids sometimes don’t even have time to deal with her and her lack of French language skills. The teachers are very sweet and experienced though. I’ve noticed that they direct her to the quiet girls coloring in the corner, and I think that’s a great idea that she hook up with them. Yesterday, we ran into one of these girls at the park, and she was leading Annika in a game of catch the ball: “Je lance, tu attrapes, d’accord?” Again, isn’t this the kind of thing a mother dreams of seeing?

Oh, and that brings up my next points: the park and the holidays and the other moms.
1. There is this park/playground in the middle of town and I’ve never seen anything like it; it’s just this perfectly manicured and flowered urban greenspace which is long and thin (like the Jardin des Tuilleries, I guess, but much smaller), with reindeers fenced in on one end, then a bunch of pens of different species of birds, kind of scattered among the walking path, all with nets overhead, so the birds can’t fly away. Then comes the mini golf course, the playground and finally the concession, which is very cute and homey compared to any park concession I’ve ever seen and they serve baguette sandwiches (along with candy and the regular junk). One mom told me yesterday that everyone from our school often go to this park, so I’m sure we’ll be there again soon, and I’ll take photos and put them up here.

2. So, that brings up both my next points, about the moms and the many days off, but let me take the days off first. Well, for starters, every Wednesday is a day off school. It’s a bit weird and makes Wednesdays feel like a little weekend. Yesterday, I kept thinking it was Sunday. We did a lot of cleaning: the house, the laundry, the car and everyone’s hair, so now at least we’re clean. But last Friday was a holiday, as is tomorrow, and there are two more Friday holidays coming up in May and June. Wow. Last week end Kevin was here, but with just us here, I wonder what we’ll do? I’ll invite one of Lauren’s friends for dinner, perhaps the whole family. I wonder if I can handle it. I guess I better start thinking of something. We could spend three days walking around the river, going swimming and going the park. We’re certainly clean enough already, now we have to think of something to do with our clean selves. Hmmm.

3. And finally, the moms. I must say I was a bit intimidated about that whole waiting outside the school chit chat that moms do. The week before we left, I was chatting outside Annika’s school with Cassie and Laura (two of Annika’s friends’ moms), and then the terrifying thought struck me that I would soon be doing this in French with French moms. And now that I’ve been doing it for a few weeks, I can say what I’ve found. First, every time, except once, it has been me who started the conversation. This one time, a very friendly mom mentioned to me in passing that her kids are always saying “hello” now, inspired by the English girl’s presence in their class. I said that we now prefer to say Bonjour, so that’s funny. But in all the other conversations, I have approached….well, first let me say that there are a few moms who seem lonely or tired—both that I’m thinking of also happen to be newcomers, one from Brazil and the other from Rennes---and these ladies were much easier to approach. But besides these two, most of the moms have this very confident, almost cold exterior, like they do not need your conversation, thank you. BUT, the funny thing is that every time I have struck up a conversation, they are so warm and friendly and they actually have the hugest smiles hiding under that placid exterior. In fact, sometimes they start talking so much to me that I get overwhelmed. I mean, it’s one thing to think about what you need to say and to approach a cashier or a shopkeeper with that one situation in mind, but it’s much more taxing on the brain to keep a session of “smalltalk” afloat. And then once I start making mistakes and my inner grammar corrector starts criticizing my verb tenses and article agreement, it’s hard to keep listening and flowing with the chit chat. But, generally, it’s all good. I’m loving it, and I’m trying to shut up my inner grammar corrector who may have a an important role to play during a test or when studying alone, but really it is nothing but a destructive interloper in a situation requiring quickly flowing chit chat. I just have to resign myself to the fact that I can’t speak perfect French and just keep talking anyway, focusing on the conversation instead of the words and the grammar.

Oh, and I found someone who’s willing to exchange an hour of English conversation and language questions for an hour of French. He’s the husband of a teacher at the school . We’ve yet to meet, but when we do, I’ll blog about how it goes.

I just read my friend's blog about our friend who got laid off from MS, and I'm praying that it will all work out well in the end for them. I could choose to worry about that too, but I think, ah, forget it. I'll just cross that bridge if we come to it.

For now, I better go. I know the trottoir photos and explanation are still forthcoming. I’m technically challenged here for one thing, and I’m lucky if I can go online once a day. Days off school are particularly difficult because I can’t have the kids running around the internet café. Even if I go to McDonalds to use their free wifi basically the kids eat (that’s how long it takes for my computer to start up Windows), and they’ll play for 10 minutes on the play structure and then they’re nagging me for sundaes or ice cream cones, so we just go (btw, McDonalds here is not cheap…actually I don’t even know if it’s cheap at home because we never go at home, but all I know it that I’m shocked that it’s like 16 Euro, or $20, for a salad and two happy meals). And I cannot copy photos from Livewriter or Word, so I have to be online to put those up. Anyway, a la prochaine….

Music at the Abby

Yesterday was a nice quiet day after our trip to the D-Day beach on Friday. We went for a walk after dinner to the Abby a few km away, and saw these musicians practicing for their concert in two weeks (see video below).

Then Lauren touched some stinging nettle on the way home, but after some severe discomfort and finding out how to say stinging nettle in French (it's l'Ortie) and not being able to find an open pharmacie and ending up using another cream we already had, she's fine now.

We spoke to some people today who were complaining about yesterday's weather, so "lourd" heavy or humid "en Bretagne ce weekend". I guess it proves that it just depends on how you're looking at it because we thought it was an absolutely beautiful day and evening. Today too. It was on the cloudy side and on the warm side, but, as Kevin said, "at least, pas de pluie". Kevin's French is really coming along considering he knew nothing a few months ago. I keep speaking to him in French, especially when I'm having a conversation in French with someone else. He gets a really irritated look on his face, but he needs the immersion too, right? Sometimes, he has the audacity to just respond in English, but I got "trained" at the Summer Language Bursary Program in Trois Rivieres, Quebec where English was strictly prohibited, so my first reaction to that is, "how dare you?"

Well, it's back to school tomorrow, so we better get some rest now. Au revoir.

D-Day Beach--Our Visit to the Juno Beach War Memorial

We went to Normandy yesterday. My Grandpa Crockett, who is still alive and 94 years old, went there too almost 65 years ago. His reason for being there was much different than ours. Our mission was to learn French and have an amazing family vacation; his was to storm the beach and conquer the Nazis occupying it. We looked forward to a wonderful French meal after our visit to this beach, while to him it was a bloody battlefield, and he had in mind only his grueling next task of traveling north, on foot and bicycle, to free the rest of France and the Netherlands. Walking the same places that these brave soldiers walked, seeing photos (one example below) of them arriving in boats and planes, hearing readings of letters they were writing home, we were pretty overcome by emotion.

While it must have been terrifying to be taking part in war and seeing so many people killed and injured, I got the impression from their letters that they found the courage, knowing someone had to help the innocent yet imprisoned civilians in France, the Netherlands, Italy, Spain, Poland and elsewhere. Grandpa and his fellows were fully ready to give everything for their cause. There were 11 million Canadians in 1944 and a full million of them were in uniform. Of course the whole country too was part of the "war effort". They paid a huge price in lives and injuries. They are heros.

I found out that 2 years before the famous D-Day, another Canadian regiment had stormed a Nazi occupied port in Dieppe in 1942, and they were pretty much uniformly slaughtered. It was considered a huge defeat, of course, but it gave the Allied forces a chance to regroup and plan for the next invasion. That Dieppe loss was why they decided to spread out all along the less guarded beaches down the coast. The British took one part, the Americans another and the Canadians were at Juno beach.

It seems that they made significant gains on the coast line from June 6-9 1944, and they continued to push the Nazis inland past the Ore river, taking Caen, and finally closing the "Falaise Gap" on August 16. It was the day before that that my grandpa got injured.

When I was in high school, we learned the dates of D-Day and VE Day and that Canada was part of an Allied force. That's it. We learned nothing about the soldiers or the battles, so that's one reason this trip was so fascinating.

However, I do recall learning about our supposedly terrible Canadian government, how they interred the innocent Japanese families from the coast to the interior, how they stole their land and revoked their business licences. I remember vividly the photos in our textbooks of forlorn Japanese Canadians getting carted inland with very little luggage and terrified faces. But it was not until yesterday that I saw the faces of the equally terrified looking soldiers landing on the beaches and ready to die to fight the Nazis, as well as the voices of the families at home, losing their children to the war, or the mothers with 5 kids who had to leave them with strangers to go to work and make money for them to buy food or ammunition for the troops.

I can only imagine the fear enveloping everyone alive at this time. For this, I can be nothing but intensely grateful to everyone who sacrificed to put an end to the tyranny.

My friend from France told me that for generations kids here have been going to the D-Day beaches, and learning about the Allied Forces (along with the underground French Resistance) and their heroic efforts to fight worldwide occupation of Nazism.

Then again, there was an old veteran on a video at the museum saying that Canada has never made a big deal of the sacrifices that he and his fellow veterans made for their country in WWII. He said that he was fine with that though because Canada does not put a big priority on its military and he thinks that's one of the things that makes it a great country.




Canadians landing at Juno beach, France, D-day, 1944






Poster showing where each country's troops went when they landed on D-Day: yellow=Canadians, blue=U.S,. and green=British.







Canadian amphibious tank, pulled out of the water in the 80's at Juno Beach. This one sunk because it was bombed, but now, with the decades of rust scrubbed off, it stands as a monument of that pivotal day. There are plaques of all the Canadian troops and this close up is of the plaque of my Grandpa's group, the Canadian Scottish Regiment, as those who were trained in Victoria and Nanaimo were named.



Concrete and steel shapes placed on the beach by the Nazis to disallow allied aircraft from landing and to deter ground troops coming up from the sea. They obviously didn't work in the end.



Statue in front of Juno Beach Center museum.




Poster showing the first segment of the D-Day invastion, June 5-August 16. Grandpa got shot in the leg on August 15, 1944, and Aug. 16 happens to have been my dad's 8th birthday, and his dad was getting his leg patched up and being transported under the cover of night to a hospital back in England, still not quite out of harm's way, but I can only imagine what he must have been thinking on this day: perhaps that it was looking like he might have a future life after all, that things were looking good as far as conquering the Nazis went, so maybe he'd have a chance to live his life and become old which, of course he did. Or, then again, maybe he was just thinking, "wow, my leg is killing me". Pain killers were probably pretty rare on the battlefield, and they hadn't even invented antibiotics yet. Instead, they used maggots to eat away the infection. Sorry, but it's true.



Nazi underground bunker on Juno beach.




It's definitely a more fun and beautiful place now. Hard to imagine the horrors of its past.



Walking in their Great Grandfather's path.



The guide had 4 people stand to represent the different Canadian regiments from west to east in the positional order that they stormed this beach on D-Day. Lauren is representing the western regiment.



This cemetery is about 5 minutes down the road from Juno beach. The tombstones all say the name of the soldier, his date of birth and death, his rank, his Regiment, and a word from his family. There are actually 3 Canadian Military graveyards in Normandy.




This cemetery is lovingly cared for by the French people in this town near Juno beach.

Au revoirs and trottoirs

Ah, we are settling nicely into this place. There’s so much to love. My first impression is that people are more closely, intricately connected.

There’s a formality to the language which actually makes the inter-connectedness stronger. It allows you distance and respect for strangers. And, in contrast, people absolutely gush with kisses and sweet words when they see (presumably) an old friend. I’ve seen ladies practically fall over their shopping carts in their zeal to kiss each others' cheeks. It's an affirmation of love that you just so rarely see (or experience) chez nous. Seeing a young, stressed out looking mom, for example, run excitedly into the arms of lady on the street who appears to be her tired old aunty or something, it seems to bring them both a much needed source of connection and appreciation and energy. At home, you'd only see such lavish affection if people hadn't seen each other in ages or they finally laid eyes on a person who'd gone mysteriously missing. But, I see this enthsiastic cheek kissing and embrassing and talking in high pitches about once a day, so it leads me to believe it's pretty common. It's really a great idea. Goodness knows, there are times when I find myself going through my day in Redmond, from minivan to store, to activity and back to minivan, not really connecting with anyone and feeling, yes, that's it, mysteriously missing.

Another great idea: the word “au revoir” best translated as “until next time”…I say it and it's said to me about 20 times a day. And when people say it, it make an invisible line between them, expecting or at least leaving an open possibility of seeing each other again. "Until next time"...Isn't it a great way to part with someone? Good bye, in contrast, doesn’t make any lines with the person. It’s a hard break.

Another great thing about the French people that I'm observing: they meet up to chat. The locals fill the terrasses down the street from here, even on chilly days, they'll sit there bundled up. They are all ages and they seem to have come for a primary purpose. To talk, to connect, for hours. They may be taking a coffee or a drink or even eating, but if that were their sole purpose, they would be gone in an hour at the most, but they linger for hours there sometimes….just talking, often with such passion and purpose that you can be sure that that conversation involves some life changing, world transforming discourse. Or, other times it looks like a person sharing his pain with a caring friend, or two lovers fulfilling what must be a universal longing to be deeply known by someone else, the way God knows you (though of course, you don't need to meet up with God on a terasse). But for we mere mortals to stay connected we need to meet up, and here they do it alot, those terrasses are full. I think our world back home is too hurried for it. They all have two hour lunches where everything but restaurants is closed. If no other time, at least everyone has those two hours in a day to sit on a terasse and talk. Actually, the French are famous for their leisure time, and I can understand why they like it so much.

There's a nature walk in a few weeks where the guide leads people through a forest, picking up edible plants and then everyone comes back and prepares a lunch and eats together. Another upcoming event is a walk through the forest with some musicians from the local music school, violins and acordians from what I gather, and everyone just sort of marches along through paths to the music. Now that sounds like something I must do. It's on a Thursday morning, so I might take the girls out of school to do it. But then again, it's not really done like that here, so I better not rock the boat too much.

Anyway, come to think of it, the girls do get enough amazing opportunities and outings at school; it really shows the priority on public education that the french seem to have. Annika's class goes swimming every Thursday...there are 22 kids, 1 classroom teacher in the pool, 1 on the deck and two swimming teachers who give them a 30 minute lesson. They also went to the music school down the street last week, and were given a music lesson, recreating, with various instruments and movement, a story about a fish (that's all I could really understand from what Annika told me about it). Today, they are going to the cinema across the street from school to see a locally made animation film.

She really misses her friends and teachers at Living Hope, but she loves all her new friends too (it doesn't seem to matter to her too much that they have only a few words between them that they mutually understand--so far that is; she is catching on to French words quickly though) Some situations scare her though (especially lunch hour, aka lunch two hours) because she doesn't understand, and she can only cry to express herself, and this has happened 2 or 3 times so far, but the teachers are very sweet with her, and she gets on to the next thing quickly, but she is definitely in an adjustment period. And I now always pick her up and take her home or out for lunch.

School lunch is superb...for 2,50 Euro, they get an entree of salad or cheese, a main course of delicious meat and vegetable and dessert of usually fruit or yogurt or both. Lauren loves it.

Lauren's class walks once a week to the sports complex where they play gym and court sports, and they're soon going to do a kayaking session. As well, they're working on a musical production (Lauren is too late to get a part, so she is just watching, and hopefully they'll find a job for her to do like help with wardrobe or props or something), and the whole school will sing some songs for a regional choral festival to take place in June. It's truly fantastic.

Annika and her classmates lay on mats and listen to soothing classical music for 20 minutes everyday after lunch. Her teacher seems rather Waldorf-y, into creating warmth and equilibrium, physically and spiritually. Rudolf Steiner did say that his methods would be more necessary as the society became more high tech and hurried. But this society seems to have kept the slower pace and rhythm that Steiner was trying to preserve from the 1940s. (that word always causes me to stumble, often to the point that I'm fruitlessly looking in the dictionary and getting frustrated...because how can you look up a word if you don't know how to spell it..., but when I came upon it just now, I told myself to be confident and focus and out it came, easy as that...rhythm.)

Oh, and I didn't even get to the trottoirs yet. They are sidewalks. Well, believe it or not, they are a telling feature of french culture, but let me take some photos later when I pick up the girls, and then you can see for yourself. For now, I'll just add some photos and end this long blog. I love you and miss you all,
C

This is the hill we walk to get to school.










This is the bakery at the bottom of the hill...sometimes girls who don't complain about walking get to have a treat from here.



This cat is often in the window, and Annika likes to look for him everyday...le chat gris. She was delighted that today he was outside.

Here are a couple more photos of our little motor boat ride on the weekend.


Another houseboat going to Lehon, the next village down river from us.




The abby in Lehon.

Okay, that's all for now. Remind me next time to tell you about the sidewalks, and how life here is like a children's story book.

Kevin is at a meeting in Bordeaux today, but he gets back tomorrow and Wednesday, we're going to Mont St. Michel if the sun is shining, to the Canadian War memorial museum if it's not shining. My grandfather, who is still alive at 94 years old, fought with the Canadian forces right there. His battalion arrived on Juno beach (about 65 km from here) the day after D-Day in June of 1944 when France was still occupied by the Germans and the nazi forces were gaining ground all over Europe. He got injured in the morning (shot in the leg) of August 15, 1944 near Falaise in "Operation Intractable". After a many painful hours and infection setting in, they finally were able to safely get him transported back to a hospital in England. He walks with one boot with a 2 inch heal to this day due to bone loss that he incurred here so many years ago from the bullet and the infection. But he survived and obviously had a long and wonderful life as well. I've very excited to see this museum.

A la prochain et au revoir.

Friends and trips to the ocean

Les cinq amies supers de Laurine, aka Sophie Laure....

Aka, these are Lauren's five fabulous friends...




Amelie, Mael, Helene, Mael, Chloe et Laurine.





Hi there,

In the past few days we went to the Emerald Coast (so named because of the amazing green, azur water.) Also, we went to the Granite Coast (named for the cliffs of pink granite). Our photos are not the best, but it was absolutely spectacular...I've never seen anything like it.

Thanks everyone for your comments on the blog. Also, I only can get internet when we go for coffee at...McDonalds because it's the only place with free wifi (or the price of a coffee, soit 1,50 euros) so it's not like I can just log on whenever I'm home. Well, I know how attached I can get the my computer at home, so it's actually good that I don't have it at home. I can spend more time playing with the kids, helping them with their French workbooks, reading, cooking etc. Also, I only have an hour and a half of phone time here for the whole three months (otherwise I pay so much, I might as well use a pay phone), so that's another distraction cut way down. It's more time to enjoy France though!

I need to cut this short because I don't want to spend all morning in McDonalds. (by the way, it's the only fast food chain I've seen in France). And I know I'm going to try live writer some time soon (thanks Rachel) A la prochaine.

Also, I have no idea how to get my voice mail on my phone. I know I have one on there from you, mom, so I'm going to have to figure that out some time.

The kids go to school in France

I had a dream last night that I was standing on a wall looking down at people walking on cliffs. We went to St. Malo yesterday, and that describes the setting there. Ramparts built hundreds of years ago, encircle the old town, and tower over the city to one side and the jagged ocean rocks, soft white sand, and dramatically crashing waves to the other. So, anyhoo, to my dream...as I was looking down, I saw a guy teaching his daughter to rollerblade. Then suddenly, they rolled off a cliff, into mid-air over a chasm, in slow motion, in a zen state of perfect calm and confidence, landing safely on the other side. What ensued was a rather heated, and public to-do. A town meeting was called, and about a hundred people weighed in to share their opinion on whether the guy was irresponsible or just being a good teacher. Both sides were convincing, and I sat as the observer of the meeting, understanding both sides, and harboring a smug sense that I was just glad that I wasn't in this guy's shoes. I woke up still feeilng smug and then the terrible truth hit me: "oh no! I am the guy". It was my dream after all, and, I thought, "I am the one who is sending my non french speaking kids to school in France today. That's my chasm, and that's what is before me in the morning". Then I realized that if was to learn anything from the dream it was that I needed to acheive a state of zen calm in the morning, so that we could all confidently make the big transition.

Well, we did make it to the other side, and it was almost as floatingly smooth as the parent and chlid in the dream.

Annika's teacher is the quinessential lovely, nurturing Kindergarten teacher. She took Annika's hand, and sat her down at the table as the kids moved towards her, fascinated, like she was a new toy. They circled around her, and stared while she sat coloring, and saying "bonjour" to them all. When we picked her up for lunch, we saw her playing with the kids outside, pushing them on the swings, and looking like one of the gang. The teacher said that everything went well and Annika was at ease all day. Annika said, "school is awesome".

Lauren's teacher was also fabulous. He gave us a tour of the school and Kevin and I were both extremely impressed. Kevin doesn't even understand, but the odd word in French, and he didn't even know that this guy giving us the tour was Lauren's teacher. But when I did make that clear to Kevin later, he said, "oh, then she'll be fine". And she was. First, she prayed that there would be some British kids in her school, and sure enough there is one family, and Lauren sits right next to the British boy in class, so she can ask him if she has questions (he's been here for years). And he also has an even more outgoing sister in the grade above them who came and helped Lauren at recess. Also, there is a gang of 5 girls that fawn over Lauren eager to help her out and teach her the ropes. They write out pages of helpful phrases with "Englisch" on one side and "Francais" on the other with, for example, "How age are you" in one column and "Quel age as-tu?" in the other. She said that at the first recess, about twenty kids circled around her and asked her a few questions in English before going off to play, but she said her 5 new friends stayed with her; "those 5 always stay with me", she said with relief in her voice.

Whew....we're across that one. Actually, everyone at the school has been warm, helpful, and welcoming.

Well, on a more down note, there was that small car accident in the parking lot. There's always something, n'est-ce pas. It was a short moment of stress as we were dropping Annika off after lunch. We drove by and a kid opened their car door and it smacked into our side mirror as we drove by. It made a lot of noise, but miraclously, even though the plastic casing of the mirror smashed off, it snapped back on and everyone continued on their way, sans damage (or domage).

I feel like my French is improving/coming back. Of course, I am just loving that. I need to find a language partner, so I can practice and grill them with questions (about grammar etc), and then, in return, I'll give them some English practice/lessons. I think I'll go write an ad fo rthat right now, and put it in the local Craigslist. There's also a school for the hospitality industry just down the road from our house which apparently teaches English to future waiters, hoteliers etc, so that might be a good place to look.

I guess that's all for now. Bisoux (no idea how to spell this).

No telecommunication, but still communication, good old fashioned family Sunday.

It seems that this world’s satellites or broadbands or whatever the heck connects us all so wirelessly, are not pointed at France. Or, is it the various corporations and regulatory agencies that are keeping us cut off? All I know is that it’s Sunday morning, and on Wednesday, we paid 100 Euro, plus 20 Euro tax for phone and internet service, and now we have neither. I have made one phone call and used the internet for 2 hours, and now we can neither use our phone, nor our internet. If that’s not bad enough, several of the emails I’ve sent from my Verizon.net account have been returned probably because of this internet “service” here.

“Credit Epuisee” says the recording, “please come into one of our locations to recharge your account”. It should say, “You have been ripped off, and please give us more money as well”.

Okay, all griping aside, we are enjoying ourselves immensely. We’ll sort all that out on Monday, or maybe Tuesday. (Also, nothing is open Sundays, and many stores are also closed Mondays, so the proprietors can have a proper two day weekend. Oh, and everything, but restaurants, is closed for about 2 hours everyday for lunch.)

I guess we have nothing to do today, but be together and enjoy each other’s company! (everyone else is still sleeping right now)

Here are some photos:

This is the bridge that we came over when we first arrived in town.

Just to the right of this bridge is the port, where we live:

The expression on the model’s face is hit and miss, but right behind her head is where we live. My mom asked me, “which boat is yours?”. Well, there is one there from Victoria, B.C. (very close to my mom’s childhood home).

The girls are really enjoying each other’s company. They love sharing a room, and it’s so cute how they consult each other on things. I think they realize it’s good to have an ally in such a new and also they just are learning to really appreciate each other’s unique personality. Annika has appointed herself, the dishwasher. I am, of course, very pleased with that development. I hope it lasts. : )

Here are some photos of our walk on the trail leading to Lehon:

Yesterday, we went for a beautiful walk along the Rance River valley. The forested part of the trail starts a block or two from our house (our house is on the river trail). If this were Seattle or Vancouver (thinking Greenlake or the sea wall), this place would be packed with people. But there are very few people on the trail. It’s so peaceful. It seems the French prefer the high energy of the town which is a five minute walk from here. There are ducks in the river and many birds and butterflies on the trail. Actually, they looked the size of moths, but they varied in color, so they got a promotion to the term “butterfly” in my eyes (obviously I know nothing about the botany). But I do know some were baby blue, others white with bright orange tips, others purple and others looked like small monarchs, orange and black.

Kevin is spoiling Annika. There won’t be any shoulder rides when Daddy is gone. Oh well, I guess she should enjoy it now, then.

Lauren and I were jogging, and since we were on the way to the pool, she had her triathalon outfit on underneath. It was warm yesterday.

Nature girl finds a way make shade.

Well, I think that’s it for my blog today. Everyone is up now, and we should get ready for our day at the Granite Coast. Wait till you see the photos from today of Annika’s cute French hair cut that we got yesterday. But, until then, here’s Annika when she still had long hair, saying au revoir for now: