things that send plans flying out the window

• earthquakes (just a very good example. I haven't experienced one in ages.)
• back ache (at least when it's constant I can know it's not contractions...)
• a poor night's sleep (or several)
• damp weather (there goes the sand-pit's appeal)
• babies who change their sleep habits abruptly
• impromptu and wonderful conversations with friends (even if said conversations are via online chat)
• remembering forgotten social engagements (with people who forgive very late rsvps)
• the next in an addictive series of tv/books arriving in the mail (love amazon.fr - free shipping in France!)

so, plans schmans! I say. There's a real freedom in powerlessness. The hard part is chilling out enough to enjoy that freedom. It's easy to panic or get frustrated when things go "wrong", but today, in fact all week, has been pretty damn good, despite sleep deprivation. I haven't kept up with any of my usual routines really this week. I'm not saying that life is better without them - not at all. But sometimes, letting the routine slip, going with the flow, accepting the chaos... really are very good ideas.

Louis between nap no.2 and non-nap no.3

(nap no.1 was also more of a non-nap)

hm... was a good day to go out to fun, social coffee group in the morning and then stay home and have a lazy afternoon.

I'm sure no one plans for network problems... and by that tenuous link, Luuk is out this evening because of someone's plan flying out the window. And therefore, my delicious and indulgent dinner is because of the plans-to-schmans trend.

First up we have salmon and spinach lasagne from the more expensive of the Italian Traiteur's at the market. It was absolutely delish, but so costs so much more than the other place that will probably not get my business again.

My dessert: Charlotte Framboise from 'Petipas', the divine boulinger/patisser/choclatier just up the road.

A kind of reward for looking after Louis by myself this evening, back ache and all. I've just put the wee lad to bed and he's blissfully silent: my cue to put my feet up and have a cuppa, and this little slice of heaven.