Louis' first Easter with teeth.

Last Easter I added a little cocoa to his mashed bananas, and felt a little guilty.

This Easter... no holds barred!

It is a good thing keeping things out of his reach is not great challenge. He does keep going back to the place where I hid the first egg, hoping for a repeat. I hid them while he was watching and he found them right away, of course. Next year we'll have to up the ante... while keeping it fair for his little sister. Hm...

Joyeuses Pâques

A few highlights from our Easter weekend...

Luuk should have all the credit here. He made hot cross buns from scratch - because they're hard/impossible to come by otherwise in France. I just piped on the crosses and did most of the slice/toast/butter/serve-with-coffee duty. They were delicious, if a little less light and fluffy than store-bought ones. But not at all bad for a first go at a baking recipe. (Used Edmonds, btw.)

How the French bake/eat at Easter... well. 

This is the display at the patisser/boulanger/choclatier up the street.

In the middle of this picture are some no-doubt delectable creations that I thought look like Kiwis :)

They're actually chicks, you know, hatched from easter eggs. And some of them are bunnies. 

(What they actually are: pastry stuffed with chocolate mousse, and stacked on top of another, larger, of the same. Then iced.)

On Sunday morning we went to the local catholic church, along with a whole lot of other people. They were standing in the aisles! Fortunately we were on time enough to get a seat. Louis was pretty well behaved considering he was confined to our laps. The service was of course in French but Luuk could follow much of it thanks to his Catholic heritage. I, on the other hand, probably missed quite a bit of the nuance... and, uh, yeah. 

And now, for the perks.

Step 1: pull off the foil in tiny pieces and scatter around the room.

 

Ooh, woah, this is like a party in my mouth. 

Gizza kiss.

What? You don't want kisses? Fine, I'll get back to business then.

Oh no, sugar overload. Business time is over baby.

Till later... (will post a video soon).

Went to our usual church in the evening, which was lovely and comprehensible. I am enjoying the Anglican liturgy and the old-school hymns, not to mention the tiny congregation, where everybody knows your name (or very soon will). I am also appreciating having my mind lifted from the stuff of everyday life and often this lifting seems to give such perspective that I return to the stuff of everyday life refreshed and challenged, and at the same time, with greater peace and capacity for restfulness. Well done, Vicar.

No friday public holiday here, but Luuk had monday off. Weather was lousy... so we watched a few episodes of 'Once Upon a Time' while Louis napped, and then did a big grocery shop. Also got Luuk a few shirts and some new swimming togs, to meet regulations at public swimming pools in France - no 'Bermudas' allowed!! That's right... he'll be wearing something akin to speedoes. We're off to the south of France in a couple of weeks time, with Kiwi friends who are living in London. Sun, sea... and speedoes. Will be taking some very carefully framed photographs, methinks.

One of Luuk's new shirts... purchased at 'Cora' hypermarche, in Massey, just south of Antony. 

Look closely.

Vraiment?

Coming soon, to a blog near you...

Two close friends recently responded with great surprise to my casual use of the feminine pronoun in reference to the bub-within... and it occurred to me that I have been less than forthright with that information. Probably something to do with moving to the otherside of the world and generally neglecting child no.2 because of the constant distraction of child no.1... hopefully not too hard a trend to reverse/break.

Introducing the wee lass. Yes, definitely a girl.

Gender has been confirmed by three different professionals on two different continents. 

Was all very obvious (and rather unladylike).

 

Enough, stop staring! Let me sleep. 

(Hm, know how you feel little miss aerobics at 11pm)

Those images are from the scan (echographie, en francais) I had several weeks back. Only got hard copies, but it occurred to me when seeing someone else's ultrasound pictures on facebook, that I have the technology to overcome that little hurdle. Hello, good quality digital camera and handy dandy image editing software.

In other news, child no.1 is working on his housekeeping skills (perhaps having realised his mother is seriously deficient in this department)...

That is a for-real and actual dirty towel that he is loading into the washer! May not be walking or talking much, may only have three teeth, but it's official: he's a genius!

And a good sleeper. Which meant I could do some sketching today.

a rough idea/plan for the canvas I'm planning to paint for a curtain over our hallway door. 

Already have the canvas hung up (for privacy when visitors stay and someone sleeps in the lounge) but it is all plain and boring. 

Just woke up much? Love the hair.

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.

Bain of my existence

For the forth night in a row: up for hours, itchy. I always thought my greatest troubles would be caused by my sinuses, or my habit of putting my foot in my mouth, or tendency to the chubby side of things. But it turns out that I'm not so different from a new baby: if I eat well and get enough sleep then all is pretty much dandy.


Fortunately, I'm still eating well.

2nd lunch today (after a little quiche lorraine which I gobbled up before I photographed it)

I finally found a GP - a médecin généraliste - in France. The difficulty was that I couldn't get any information about which ones spoke english. In the end I had to just phone up the doctors near our home, with my practiced french script on hand...


First one I tried has her office only thirty meters from our place but I phoned and got the answer machine. The second doctor on my list (perhaps 100 meters walk from my door to her office...) answered on the second ring.

I got part way through, all going well, when she asked if I spoke English, and then she started speaking english to me - a bit broken and stilted but not nearly so broken and stilted as my French, I'm sure!

I had my appointment yesterday evening and came home with a bag loaded with prescriptions - my usual potent locoid cream for bad eczema, a moisturizer and a disinfectant solution. Luuk had been lovely, cooked up shrimp and vegetable risotto for dinner in my absence, and fed Louis his vegetables. We had a relaxing evening: did our french lesson, watched a couple of episodes of 'Doc Martin', and I applied my creams. I was all ready for a good night's rest.

But it was awful. My skin was feeling fine when I lay down, but over the next three hours, as I utterly failed to fall asleep, my skin got more and more irritated. Around 1am I got up and had a shower, reapplied cream, changed into clean PJs. Still couldn't manage to sleep. Tried relocating to the couch, hoping not to keep Luuk awake, and maybe I'd be cooler away from another's body-heat... but no. Didn't work.

Was really getting upset. Don't know how I managed it, but returned to bed and got to sleep finally. Slept till morning too, thank God.

Went back to bed after Louis went down for his morning nap. Two hours of good sleep later, and a Pain au Chocolat... I soon felt much better.

How breakfast should be.

Louis was awake and happily covered himself in the juice of his orange (his morning tea) while I skyped with my parents. 


Went to the Market and managed a few successful conversations/transactions in French - always gives a good feeling.

Generally things in France are going very well, except for my skin and sleeplessness. But in the interest of the whole truth, there it is: my skin is driving me up the wall!

This afternoon, after Louis' sleep, we'll return to town - in search of some light, loose, cotton PJs (elastic bands and warm fabrics are just asking for trouble), some baby oil (safe alternative moisturiser), and some tart cherry pills from the homeopathic pharmacy - a natural sleep-aide, safe during pregnancy. Tried some of dad's tart cherry pills when he was staying with us. I did sleep pretty well, but it's so hard to tell if something is actually helping or if I'm just having a few good days/nights. Still... worth a try. Anything is for the sake of a good night's sleep!

An Abbey!

We are trying to make the most of our relatively short time in France by making sure to do some exploring most weekends. Tempting as it is to relax at home...

Louis' current favourite: Old MacDonald's farm.

This weekend Luuk wanted to head out to the country where colleagues of his had told him there were 20 thousand 'Chateau' (or castle), rarely visited by tourists. With the help of google maps he narrowed it down to just the one and off we went with our handy dandy GPS to find a castle!

We stopped in a cute little town nearby, for lunch.

Check it out: an anchor. Really not very close to any oceans...

Lunch was 'Gallettes': crepes loaded with meat and veggies. Mine was salmon and potatoes with creamy mushroom sauce.

Luuk and Louis, enjoying lunch. Luuk had a gallette. Louis... crackers, cheese and grapes. Very refined.

Little old church in little old town.

We drove on to our destination and walked down a little cobbled road, past the hotel (country retreat anyone?), through an ancient arch, over a bridge, and voila...

The Abbey! 

The closest part of the main buildings are a ruined cathedral (not quite so far gone as the archway in the foreground obviously) but part of this is still refurbished (I presume) and functions as hotel and restaurants.

Inside the ruined Cathedral.

Standing on the roof of a building which is all set up for a piano concert later in the day. Love the window frames.

Walking around the main building, in search of that big lake we spotted on the way in.

There it is.

Charming boat house. Weather less than enticing for boating. It was more of an inspriting-a-gothic-novel kind of day. Il ne fait pas tres beau.

Other random ruins on the grounds around the Abbey.

The little man, enjoying the views.

At the back of the Cathedral, opposite end from grand window frame.

Afternoon tea in 'Salon de the': deux cafe et un assiette du chausson chocolat - chocolate shoe pastry!

Refueled, we made our way back to the car and Louis stayed awake all the way home - silly muppet.

Crashed out in his own bed though. Aw... We were exhausted as well so it was nice to have some lazy-time. We're working out way through 'Doc Martin' - British TV series I got as an early birthday present from my Mum and Dad. Thanks!

Plodding on

I like to do small things. Doing a big thing is more impressive; more worthy of a blog post, certainly. But if I do a little thing every day it soon adds up to a lot more. For example, I think it'd be better to journal just a little every day than to write ten pages in a go on occasion. A habit of creativity is going to add up to a lot more progress than a whole day at the easel every few months.

A few times in the past, I have written hard-out for a month and finished a novel draft, but at the moment I'm trying to plod away at a more maintainable pace for a lot longer than month. It is harder work. It is less thrilling. It is less disruptive to the rest of my life and I don't get to be a martyr for art or anything so dramatic and exciting. I reward myself with usually edible treats and well-earned naps. The next day, or several days later, I open that document and try not to read over any more than one paragraph, inevitably edit a few typos and grammatical errors, then plod on, hoping to God that there are fewer errors in all the other paragraphs I didn't just read over.

It's slow going, and six weeks from now I won't be fine-tuning my query letter to literary agents or editors. Six months from now I'll probably be reading over a drafted manuscript, horrified at the sheer quantity of inconsistencies in tense.

(I am finding it hard to keep it in the past tense while I maintain this candid, chatty 1st person narrative - something new to me. I usually stick with 3rd person voice - simpler to keep grammatically in-check, but harder to convey so much of character...)

This morning I went out on the patio to water my Basil plant (which is faring better than any other non-cactus I've ever owned) and noticed that the tree outside has burst to life. When we moved in, less than six weeks ago, it looked like a dead twig of a thing. But it was just plodding away, behind the scenes, getting ready to bud. And now...

So here's hoping for some of that bright green life-spark, creatively, in the long run. Meanwhile, on I plod.