The days seem to be slipping by faster than ever -- I ran into Geraldine at the school drop off this morning and she reminded me we have just 18 days left in France! How did that happen?
There is no big news to report -- the week is happily just full of work and school and laundry and life -- but I do have a few fun updates.
* Maitresse Maud mentioned that Katie spoke French spontaneously in class Tuesday. And just what were the first freely spoken (i.e. not prompted by Mama or Daddy) French words out of her mouth?
"Je suis la!" (I am here!).
I don't know if that is incredibly deep and meaningful (some kind of existential awareness of her place in the universe) or simply a response to the roll call. At any rate -- we're pleased with her progress.
* Both girls have been singing a LOT these days, both songs that are recognizable, as well as those they make up. Today, at lunch, Livie was sweetly singing one that started like this:
"On your birthday, it's hard to be twins..."
I tried to get her to expand on that thought, but she slipped off into another song about how you have to be kind to Santa. Ah, the brain of a nearly five year old...
* I had a great talk with Jack's teacher on Friday. She said that she and the whole class would be so sad to see Jack leave -- that he has really become a remarkably integrated part of the classroom fabric (or something like that). She also said they would all -- ALL -- cry when he left.
She also mentioned that she thinks he will be VERY bored in school next year, as he is easily picking up concepts that are difficult for any student, whatever language they speak at home. In some cases, I think she will be right. For example, his class here has blazed through the past, imperfect, future, and conditional verb tenses... and he gets it! I don't think they even start some of those until next year at his French immersion school. Of course, there will also be a few (several!) gaps... he still hasn't learned how to conjugate "ir" or "re" verbs (something they hadn't started in Canada when we left but had already finished here), and who knows what else. I am sure we will encounter many of these gaps when we return. Thankfully, he seems to pick up these concepts so quickly.
And the best thing of all (even better than him bringing home a good mark on a test none of us even knew was coming up, which also happened this week) is to listen to him speak French with his friends. It just comes so naturally... so easily... so fluently. I don't know when or how or in what context he will use the French language later in life... but I do know he has a fabulous grounding in it at this point, and both John and I feel that is such a wonderful gift (especially since the process of learning it was so much fun).
* John and I had petit-dejeuner at our favorite cafe this morning. The topic of conversation -- just how the heck we can come back to Burgundy some day. Yes, it is going to be hard to leave and you can expect some emotional and possibly pathetic postings (very pro-France) over the next 2+ weeks!
* Here's just one of the things I'll miss... how French people seem to touch each other more than North Americans. I love the French cheek-kiss thing (faire la bise), and every time it happens I feel like this is a very sane and wonderful society. The owner of the restaurant in Nuits-St-George where we go for galettes every two weeks or so came out when we stopped by with Mom on Monday, and before I knew it, he was kissing my cheeks and then Mom's before explaining and apologizing that the restaurant was closed for a private function. A cousin of Franck's who lives in our village (and who we see at the school drop-off) nows greets me with both a warm bonjour and a quick cheek kiss. John gets a handshake -- it seems that men only kiss men who are family or very old friends -- but otherwise, it's kisses all around. Jack's friends kiss me, my friends kiss me, I kiss my own kids... what a wonderful way of life.
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Back to Burgundry, having loved the Loire
Health update: Jack did, in fact, have his sisters' bug, but weathered it fairly well and was back to his usual silly sweet self by Sunday afternoon (and in pretty good spirits the whole time). I do sometimes wonder about the competitive spirits of our children, though. There was a lot of comparing of who threw up how many times in France (Katie had the edge on the other two thanks to her earlier stomach bug the day of our French fiesta). Such pleasant, pleasant conversation. The good news is that all three kids appear fully healthy and are back in school this morning. It also appears that Jack grew two inches or so during his illness... seriously, his pants on Sunday morning were two inches too short!
Loire update: Oh my goodness. The Loire blew us all away. I don't know why, but I hadn't imagined it would be quite so.... big, magnificent, huge, beautiful, incredible, and (at times) excessive (makes you kind of understand how that whole French Revolution could have happened). I had (naively) planned for us to see two chateaux a day. Yeah, right! Even without slightly sick kids, the most we could have taken in was one a day... and even then, we left without examining every corner, every room, every masterpiece of art or architecture. There was just so much to see, and our brains could not process all of the beauty and awe. Nice problem to have, isn't it?
On Saturday, we visited Chambord, a "hunting lodge" constructed by King Francois I in the 1500s (to be near his mistress) which many consider to be the greatest of the chateaux of the Loire (what with its 440 rooms, 365 fireplaces, and 84 staircases, including a famous double-helix rumored to be designed by Leonardo Da Vinci). A bit of history courtesy of Wikipedia:
Exhausted and overwhelmed, we happily drove about 75 minutes to our next destination... a chateau that has been converted into a hotel! This was mom's wish... to spend a night in a chateau. We sent lists back and forth, and settled on one she had found online, the Chateau de la Bourdaisiere. It dates from the 1400s, although its current look is much smaller (a more manageable size for a chateau, bien sur).
Although *not* a part of the chateau's general information, I just read that the beautiful building and its grounds were the site of the first Joe Millionarie television show! Oh my!
One better known (and better publicized) aspect of the hotel-chateau's more recent history is that it is owed by the same Prince who bought Deyrolle -- the amazing last taxidermy shop in Paris -- and helped ensure its survival both at the time of its purchase in 2001 and after the fire in 2008. The prince (apparently "just" a courtesy title these days) is also doing much to preserve and cultivate heirloom vegetables and plants. According to the hotel-chateau's website, the prince and his wife want to "transform the estate into a prime example of eco-renovation of an historical monument and lead the way to a sustainable management example for both the hotel and garden and the park. The Princess is in charge of the decoration, which will obviously be the transcended mix of Le Prince Jardinier, Deyrolle and their common curiosity."
Did I mention it was really, really cool?
We lingered at our castle, watching the kids run around the beautiful grounds, until checkout time, then headed to our second "big" castle of the weekend, the Chateau de Chenonceau. If Chambord is considered the "greatest" of the chateaux of the Loire, Chenonceau is often considered the most beautiful. It was designed by women for women. According to its website, Chenonceau is known as "Château des Dames as recorded in the French history books, [and] owes a large part of its charm to women: it was built in 1513 by Katherine Briçonnet, then made even more attractive by Diane de Poitiers and Catherine de Médicis, and saved from the rigours of the French Revolution by Mrs. Dupin."
The scale of this chateau was much smaller (and maybe more pleasing) than Chambord, and many of the rooms had the bedding and decoration of the different women who lived there. From the fabulous kitchens to the graceful views on both sides of the river to the incredible gardens (including a huge labyrinth the kids wanted to play in all afternoon), this chateau, too, was more ... everything... than we expected.
We took three tired but happy kids (and three tired but happy adults) back to our rental car at about 4 p.m. and headed home through many small rain showers, which had the unexpected benefit of creating at least a dozen rainbows along the road home (really!). John said it was a kind of relentless beauty... and it got even more beautiful as we came back to Burgundy. We decided we still do like it best here... but we would be happy -- very happy -- to return to the Loire one day.
I think I will upload the photos in four sections: the Abbey, Chambord, the hotel-chateau, and Chenonceau. Don't know how long that will take (we shot a mere 588 photos!) but hopefully sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we are going to head out to one last lunch with Mom, who leaves from Lyon tomorrow morning. It's been a wonderful visit, and we all will miss her so much. We are also starting to count down as it suddenly became May -- which means we have just 20 days left in our fabulous French home. Talk about people and places we will miss...
On Saturday, we visited Chambord, a "hunting lodge" constructed by King Francois I in the 1500s (to be near his mistress) which many consider to be the greatest of the chateaux of the Loire (what with its 440 rooms, 365 fireplaces, and 84 staircases, including a famous double-helix rumored to be designed by Leonardo Da Vinci). A bit of history courtesy of Wikipedia:
Chambord is the largest castle in the Loire Valley, but was built to serve only as a hunting lodge for François I, who maintained his royal residences at Château de Blois and at Château d'Amboise.
...The château was never intended to provide any form of defense from enemies; consequently the walls, towers and partial moat are purely decorative, and even at the time were an anachronism. some elements of the architecture - open windows, loggia, and a vast outdoor area at the top — borrowed from the Italian Renaissance architecture — are less practical in cold and damp northern France.
The roofscape of Chambord contrasts with the masses of its masonry and has often been compared with the skyline of a town: it shows eleven kinds of towers and three types of chimneys, without symmetry, framed at the corners by the massive towers. ...When François I commissioned the construction of Chambord, he wanted it to look like the skyline of Constantinople.
...One of the architectural highlights is the spectacular double-helix open staircase that is the centerpiece of the castle. The two helixes ascend the three floors without ever meeting, illuminated from above by a sort of light house at the highest point of the castle. There are suggestions that Leonardo da Vinci may have designed the staircase, but this has not been confirmed.We all loved the staircase, and chased each other up, up, up and down, down, down, marveling at the beauty of the symmetry and design (well, we marveled... the kids simply thought it was "so cool!"). I loved wandering the rooftop and looking over the landscape, walking amid the towers and turrets and dream-like design of the place. I don't know that the pictures will do it justice... maybe it's one of those things you have to see yourself. If that's the case... well, I can solidly argue that this is worth seeing. It's incredible to believe that humans could have constructed such a thing.
Although *not* a part of the chateau's general information, I just read that the beautiful building and its grounds were the site of the first Joe Millionarie television show! Oh my!
One better known (and better publicized) aspect of the hotel-chateau's more recent history is that it is owed by the same Prince who bought Deyrolle -- the amazing last taxidermy shop in Paris -- and helped ensure its survival both at the time of its purchase in 2001 and after the fire in 2008. The prince (apparently "just" a courtesy title these days) is also doing much to preserve and cultivate heirloom vegetables and plants. According to the hotel-chateau's website, the prince and his wife want to "transform the estate into a prime example of eco-renovation of an historical monument and lead the way to a sustainable management example for both the hotel and garden and the park. The Princess is in charge of the decoration, which will obviously be the transcended mix of Le Prince Jardinier, Deyrolle and their common curiosity."Did I mention it was really, really cool?
The scale of this chateau was much smaller (and maybe more pleasing) than Chambord, and many of the rooms had the bedding and decoration of the different women who lived there. From the fabulous kitchens to the graceful views on both sides of the river to the incredible gardens (including a huge labyrinth the kids wanted to play in all afternoon), this chateau, too, was more ... everything... than we expected.
I think I will upload the photos in four sections: the Abbey, Chambord, the hotel-chateau, and Chenonceau. Don't know how long that will take (we shot a mere 588 photos!) but hopefully sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we are going to head out to one last lunch with Mom, who leaves from Lyon tomorrow morning. It's been a wonderful visit, and we all will miss her so much. We are also starting to count down as it suddenly became May -- which means we have just 20 days left in our fabulous French home. Talk about people and places we will miss...
Friday, April 30, 2010
More pictures from Mom's visit
Kate looks a little better this morning, and is happily nestled in watching British cartoons. Still hoping to head to the Loire this afternoon!
In the meantime, I downloaded pictures from John's little camera. Here are a few more shots of the last few days with Mom and Sharon.
In the meantime, I downloaded pictures from John's little camera. Here are a few more shots of the last few days with Mom and Sharon.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
A family recipe
Still no official word on what the mystery plant may be. Might be reason to come back to Burgundy some spring in the future just to research more!
But... my dad did ask me to pass along his special "anti-skunk" recipe to my amazing in-laws after reading about our faithful hound Kaia's encounter with a skunk earlier this week. I did. And then I realized that since I often post or link to recipes (for things like tarte au chocolat or tortillas, true), maybe someone out there might be helped by my dad's surefire way to get the skunk smell off of a dog.
In completely non-smelly other news... the kids and I are surviving John's absence for a work trip (we finished day four today -- hooray!), and we couldn't have made it through today without Lauren, Claudia and Penelope (and their parents). I was running low on patience this morning, and had a long list of shopping to do at both the Beaune Saturday market and the regular supermarket to prepare for my mom's visit. The kids do NOT love going to the market with me. They love the carousel there, of course, and John always takes them to it on any market morning. But going from stall to stall while I buy vegetables and cheese and chicken has never been their favorite activity. And with all of the tourists coming to town and the market more crowded than ever, it would have been even less fun.
So Alli kindly offered to have me drop the kids at her place and sent me on my way. What a friend! I had a great market morning -- a few of my favorite vendors passed along little extras today, some breadsticks and a few extra flowers -- and you will be shocked to hear I bought all of my favorite cheeses -- but this time for selfless reasons! My mom and Sharon can't eat gluten -- when I explained that to different vendors they gave a look of recognition (they had clearly heard of a gluten allergy) and then all of them, every single one, gave the saddest face ever at the thought of being unable to eat French bread. So I figured what they will miss in bread we will make up for in cheese! How very, very noble of me, I know.
The kids had a blast playing with the May girls. Kate and Liv adore anything that the nearly two-year-old Penelope does (and Penelope loves having them as adoring fans). Jack, Lauren and Claudia traded a few Pokemon cards while they were at it. And when I returned with my final haul, all the kids (and moms) walked back to town to get an ice cream cone -- a perfect end to a day that could have been so stressful and frustrating for all four of us. I did get a bit misty as we walked and I watched Lauren hold Kate and Liv's hands, and Jack take Penelope's while talking to Claudia... because it is clear how lucky we are to have such good friends, and how sad we are to be getting to a point where we can count down how many more market mornings we'll have. That's just not something I want to think about too much.
So... to avoid any more weepy eyes, I'll just say the kids and I returned and started getting ready for Mom and Sharon. John will pick up them up tomorrow night in Lyon after having made a whirlwind trip to Paris and Barcelona (again, I am struck by how much cooler than sounds than making a whirlwind trip to, say, Calgary and Winnipeg). And hopefully, at this time tomorrow night, I'll be saying bienvenue maman!
But... my dad did ask me to pass along his special "anti-skunk" recipe to my amazing in-laws after reading about our faithful hound Kaia's encounter with a skunk earlier this week. I did. And then I realized that since I often post or link to recipes (for things like tarte au chocolat or tortillas, true), maybe someone out there might be helped by my dad's surefire way to get the skunk smell off of a dog.
Are skunks a problem in France? I can just imagine the conversation with Geraldine and Thomas (who patiently answer all of my random French questions) -- it's sure to be a good one!From the all time skunk trapper of Teller County, Colorado: Mix together one quart of 3% hydrogen peroxide, 1 teaspoon of mild liquid dishwashing detergent and 1/4 cup of baking soda. Before bathing your pet, put cotton balls in his ears and a drop of mineral oil in each eye to prevent the mixture from irritating the eyes. Rub the mixture through your pet's coat and brush it through with a soft brush, then rinse well. You might have to repeat it until the odor is gone, but it really does work. This is my long time remedy from Heloise. When a skunk sprays the yard, I use a spray bottle and spray it around and it gets rid of the odor. Poor Kaia.
In completely non-smelly other news... the kids and I are surviving John's absence for a work trip (we finished day four today -- hooray!), and we couldn't have made it through today without Lauren, Claudia and Penelope (and their parents). I was running low on patience this morning, and had a long list of shopping to do at both the Beaune Saturday market and the regular supermarket to prepare for my mom's visit. The kids do NOT love going to the market with me. They love the carousel there, of course, and John always takes them to it on any market morning. But going from stall to stall while I buy vegetables and cheese and chicken has never been their favorite activity. And with all of the tourists coming to town and the market more crowded than ever, it would have been even less fun.
So Alli kindly offered to have me drop the kids at her place and sent me on my way. What a friend! I had a great market morning -- a few of my favorite vendors passed along little extras today, some breadsticks and a few extra flowers -- and you will be shocked to hear I bought all of my favorite cheeses -- but this time for selfless reasons! My mom and Sharon can't eat gluten -- when I explained that to different vendors they gave a look of recognition (they had clearly heard of a gluten allergy) and then all of them, every single one, gave the saddest face ever at the thought of being unable to eat French bread. So I figured what they will miss in bread we will make up for in cheese! How very, very noble of me, I know.
The kids had a blast playing with the May girls. Kate and Liv adore anything that the nearly two-year-old Penelope does (and Penelope loves having them as adoring fans). Jack, Lauren and Claudia traded a few Pokemon cards while they were at it. And when I returned with my final haul, all the kids (and moms) walked back to town to get an ice cream cone -- a perfect end to a day that could have been so stressful and frustrating for all four of us. I did get a bit misty as we walked and I watched Lauren hold Kate and Liv's hands, and Jack take Penelope's while talking to Claudia... because it is clear how lucky we are to have such good friends, and how sad we are to be getting to a point where we can count down how many more market mornings we'll have. That's just not something I want to think about too much.
So... to avoid any more weepy eyes, I'll just say the kids and I returned and started getting ready for Mom and Sharon. John will pick up them up tomorrow night in Lyon after having made a whirlwind trip to Paris and Barcelona (again, I am struck by how much cooler than sounds than making a whirlwind trip to, say, Calgary and Winnipeg). And hopefully, at this time tomorrow night, I'll be saying bienvenue maman!
Monday, April 19, 2010
And in other news...
Now that I have gotten the emotional "I want my mom" update off my chest, I remembered I also have some pictures to post from the weekend.
On Friday, Geraldine, Pierre and Adele came to visit for the gouter. I have made a tarte au citron and we had a great visit. I was asking Geraldine to translate parts of the cookbook she gave me the night of the French fiesta, and as she tried to explain to me the different instructions for gougeres au fromage (fancy cheese puffs), we decided to just give it a try.
They didn't turn out *quite* right -- the first batch, in fact, could have been used as baseballs -- but I think the temperature in the oven here was too high as the second batch turned out a bit better. But it was so much fun to cook with a friend (and one who knew how to mettez, versez, otez, remettez, beurrez, saupoudrez and more).
Kate, Liv and Adele played beautifully. Liv said that Adele was beginning to understand them -- and they were beginning to understand her. At last!
Jack and Pierre kicked the soccer ball around for a while, looked at Jack's Pokemon card collection (who knew it would be as popular in France as it was in Japan and Canada?), and then decided to sit down to play poker. Eventually, John, Geraldine and I were drawn into the fun of Texas Hold'em, where Jack and Pierre promptly beat us (and Jack squeaked out a narrow victory over his friend). Fun French fact of the day -- the phrase for "I fold" in French is je me couche (I put myself to bed). Below, you can see Jack and Pierre sorting out Legos to make them work as poker chips.
Saturday held two social outings for us. First, in the afternoon we went to a gouter at Marine's, the daughter of my host family from Dijon. Her four girls and our three kids all played SO well in their huge backyard. We *may* be starting to make plans to arrange a marriage between Jack and either Penelope or Capucine... I'm sure they won't mind, right?
That night, we went to a dinner at Muriel and Sylvie's, who are connected to the local Buddhist community and who are friends of Geraldine and Thomas (who were invited to the dinner as well). They live in a wonderful old house in a small town about 30 minutes south of Beaune -- full of old wooden beams, great nooks, and twisty stairs. We had a very interesting, fun, and late night out.
Rounding out our incredibly social weekend, we had the great pleasure of having lunch here for a friend from university days who is living in Geneva with her husband and 11-week-old daughter. We hadn't see Cynthia and Lincoln in 12 years (although we had exchanged many an email and letter in the interim), and it was such fun to meet sweet Melina. It was a perfect spring day, with fresh food from the market, a walk up to Coconut Mountain (Mont-St-Victor) and to Rapunzel's Tower (the remaining tower from the old chateau in town), and some lovely cheeses (including a new favorite -- Epoisse). The kids fell in love with little Melina (and so did we).
The other excitement of the weekend is that I decided to give the kids haircuts. In the past, this has not always ended up working so well for us (especially Jack). Thus, this sign:
In case you have trouble, it says "I NOT GITING MI HAIR CUT" (his spelling is better in French at this point in his life). But I just trimmed around the ears, and he ended up looking like this:
Pas mal, n'est pas? Kate and Liv got just a trim, too... and new kerchiefs that are all the rage at their school right now:
We don't have much planned this week -- hopefully just cleaning and getting ready for a visit from my mom and friend Sharon on Sunday night. Fingers crossed for the winds to change!
On Friday, Geraldine, Pierre and Adele came to visit for the gouter. I have made a tarte au citron and we had a great visit. I was asking Geraldine to translate parts of the cookbook she gave me the night of the French fiesta, and as she tried to explain to me the different instructions for gougeres au fromage (fancy cheese puffs), we decided to just give it a try.
They didn't turn out *quite* right -- the first batch, in fact, could have been used as baseballs -- but I think the temperature in the oven here was too high as the second batch turned out a bit better. But it was so much fun to cook with a friend (and one who knew how to mettez, versez, otez, remettez, beurrez, saupoudrez and more).
Kate, Liv and Adele played beautifully. Liv said that Adele was beginning to understand them -- and they were beginning to understand her. At last!
Jack and Pierre kicked the soccer ball around for a while, looked at Jack's Pokemon card collection (who knew it would be as popular in France as it was in Japan and Canada?), and then decided to sit down to play poker. Eventually, John, Geraldine and I were drawn into the fun of Texas Hold'em, where Jack and Pierre promptly beat us (and Jack squeaked out a narrow victory over his friend). Fun French fact of the day -- the phrase for "I fold" in French is je me couche (I put myself to bed). Below, you can see Jack and Pierre sorting out Legos to make them work as poker chips.
Saturday held two social outings for us. First, in the afternoon we went to a gouter at Marine's, the daughter of my host family from Dijon. Her four girls and our three kids all played SO well in their huge backyard. We *may* be starting to make plans to arrange a marriage between Jack and either Penelope or Capucine... I'm sure they won't mind, right?
That night, we went to a dinner at Muriel and Sylvie's, who are connected to the local Buddhist community and who are friends of Geraldine and Thomas (who were invited to the dinner as well). They live in a wonderful old house in a small town about 30 minutes south of Beaune -- full of old wooden beams, great nooks, and twisty stairs. We had a very interesting, fun, and late night out.
Rounding out our incredibly social weekend, we had the great pleasure of having lunch here for a friend from university days who is living in Geneva with her husband and 11-week-old daughter. We hadn't see Cynthia and Lincoln in 12 years (although we had exchanged many an email and letter in the interim), and it was such fun to meet sweet Melina. It was a perfect spring day, with fresh food from the market, a walk up to Coconut Mountain (Mont-St-Victor) and to Rapunzel's Tower (the remaining tower from the old chateau in town), and some lovely cheeses (including a new favorite -- Epoisse). The kids fell in love with little Melina (and so did we).
The other excitement of the weekend is that I decided to give the kids haircuts. In the past, this has not always ended up working so well for us (especially Jack). Thus, this sign:
In case you have trouble, it says "I NOT GITING MI HAIR CUT" (his spelling is better in French at this point in his life). But I just trimmed around the ears, and he ended up looking like this:
Pas mal, n'est pas? Kate and Liv got just a trim, too... and new kerchiefs that are all the rage at their school right now:
Monday, March 29, 2010
A rainy Easter egg hunt
The kids spent all of five minutes at a rainy Easter egg hunt Sunday organized by their school -- long enough to find six chocolate eggs in Les Chaumes and beat a hasty retreat to a warm, beautiful house. They were happy to have the hunt, happy to have their eggs, and happy to be home.
I managed to get a few shots:
I managed to get a few shots:
Friday, March 26, 2010
Twenty-seven tortillas, one jar of "le cumin", and six Coronas later...
No, I haven't had the Coronas yet, but I did have much more success at the grocery stores today. I stopped by a different one (which proclaimed it was "the better market" -- a title which turned out to be true this time around) and quickly found "le cumin". I am now fully prepared to make loads of Indian food, too, with my big bottles of cumin and tumeric!
And I also found what I *think* could possibly maybe perhaps turn out to be something close to cream cheese. I shelved all of my pride, searched for what looked like something that resembled cream cheese, and approached the cheese counter for a hilarious conversation that essentially confirmed that I had indeed found a soft, bland, tasteless processed cheese that children like to eat. Perfect. I think Kraft and Philadelphia Cream Cheese company will soon be incorporating that definition into all of their marketing and promotions!
For the record, it was pas-de-probleme to make the tortillas yesterday, although I stopped at 27 and picked up a bag of store ones (for the kids, I told myself) in case we run out.
And... I found a six-pack of Corona at the store. Hooray! John did wonder a bit at the wisdom of paying top dollar (or euro) for mediocre Mexican beer. I convinced him it would add a certain je ne sais quoi to the celebration. We'll see what everyone thinks.
One small glitch... we got a call from school today (no one likes those) saying Katie had been sick and would we please come and pick her up right away. She also threw up on the way home. Since then -- she's been fine.
So...I left a message with Geraldine and Thomas letting them know (and had to contemplate the following before calling: "hmmm, what is the past-participle of 'to vomit'"? Elle a vomi? Elle est vomue?") and hope the dinner is still on. We also learned, when picking Kate up, that there is one other case of a gastro-illness in class and both head lice and chicken pox are going around. Nice to know some things about preschools are the same around the world (and I am quite thankful our chicken pox drama is behind us).
Well, I'm off to pick Jack up at school and finish the party prep. I'll try to remember to take pictures of our Mexican feast (French style).
Bon appetit!
And I also found what I *think* could possibly maybe perhaps turn out to be something close to cream cheese. I shelved all of my pride, searched for what looked like something that resembled cream cheese, and approached the cheese counter for a hilarious conversation that essentially confirmed that I had indeed found a soft, bland, tasteless processed cheese that children like to eat. Perfect. I think Kraft and Philadelphia Cream Cheese company will soon be incorporating that definition into all of their marketing and promotions!
For the record, it was pas-de-probleme to make the tortillas yesterday, although I stopped at 27 and picked up a bag of store ones (for the kids, I told myself) in case we run out.
And... I found a six-pack of Corona at the store. Hooray! John did wonder a bit at the wisdom of paying top dollar (or euro) for mediocre Mexican beer. I convinced him it would add a certain je ne sais quoi to the celebration. We'll see what everyone thinks.
One small glitch... we got a call from school today (no one likes those) saying Katie had been sick and would we please come and pick her up right away. She also threw up on the way home. Since then -- she's been fine.
So...I left a message with Geraldine and Thomas letting them know (and had to contemplate the following before calling: "hmmm, what is the past-participle of 'to vomit'"? Elle a vomi? Elle est vomue?") and hope the dinner is still on. We also learned, when picking Kate up, that there is one other case of a gastro-illness in class and both head lice and chicken pox are going around. Nice to know some things about preschools are the same around the world (and I am quite thankful our chicken pox drama is behind us).
Well, I'm off to pick Jack up at school and finish the party prep. I'll try to remember to take pictures of our Mexican feast (French style).
Bon appetit!
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Things I learned at the market
We all headed to the market this morning, although the kids were happy to quickly detour to Chez Alli and John (or, perhaps more accurately, Chez Lauren, Claudia and Penelope). They played and played while we shopped and shopped. A few lessons learned:
1. If you have the option of having a real butcher "prepare" your chicken -- take it. This was the first time I bought a whole uncooked chicken at the market, and I wanted to prepare this recipe which calls for a whole chicken to be cut into eight pieces. I am more comfortable roasting a whole chicken, so hesitantly asked if they could couper the bird for me. In no time at all, they chopped off its head and feet, removed the guts, and had that bird beautifully prepared in eight pieces for me. If I do it again, I'm going to ask if I can take pictures -- it was *that* cool to see.
2. There is more than one kind of garlic. I found this out today when I tried to buy three bulbs. The vendor gave me a bit of a confused looked, and asked if I had a garden (giving me a look like I could not possibly be a gardener). I immediately panicked, thinking my reputation as someone who kills all plants had crossed an ocean, wondering how he KNEW I was a terrible gardener. Then he explained that the ones I was trying to buy were for planting... and the ones for eating were at the other end of the counter. Ah. Who knew?
3. I shouldn't take John with me when I buy cheese. It's not exactly cheap, but it's SOOOOOOOOOOO good. He just didn't know how good. Until now. Sigh. (Cheese of the week: an amazing cheese from high in the Alps that had been aged 29 months. I need to start bringing a pen to the market and writing down names... I always think I'll remember, but I never do.)
4. If you see people in a line for something, whatever they are buying is probably worth trying. This has turned out to be true for an amazing whole grain bread (two of the last four weeks) and an incredible goat's cheese (today).
5. You can learn a lot by asking where something comes from. One of my earliest market mornings, I asked (just out of curiousity) where the bananas were from (most that I had eaten in my life were from North and South America and I wondered where French bananas came from). The vendor said, a bit apologetically, that they were not from Martinique, but from Cote d'Ivoire. Well, at the next vendor, I saw bananas from Martinique. And they were delicious. Today, a vendor was selling two kinds of strawberries, one a bit more expensive than the other. I asked where they were from. These, he said with great pride, are from southern France. These others, he said, were from... Spain (the way he said it made it sound like he had found those strawberries under his couch, leftover from a long ago spring, and he was very sorry he was having to display them). He also said the French ones were more fragrant (had more perfume) while the Spanish ones had more sugar. I tried the French ones. They were magnifique.
6. It's kind of hilarious to watch two people with bad French accents try to talk to each other (example: the kind man selling Asian food (spring rolls, samosas, noodle dishes) and me). Neither of understood a word the other said, but somehow he ended up with his money and I ended up with spring rolls. I guess that's a victory of sorts.
7. And the best suggestion of all came from the website of David Lebovitz (source of my tasty chicken recipe). "One thing I've learned in France," he wrote, "is that if someone who's an expert tells you to eat something—you should eat it."
He's right.
1. If you have the option of having a real butcher "prepare" your chicken -- take it. This was the first time I bought a whole uncooked chicken at the market, and I wanted to prepare this recipe which calls for a whole chicken to be cut into eight pieces. I am more comfortable roasting a whole chicken, so hesitantly asked if they could couper the bird for me. In no time at all, they chopped off its head and feet, removed the guts, and had that bird beautifully prepared in eight pieces for me. If I do it again, I'm going to ask if I can take pictures -- it was *that* cool to see.
2. There is more than one kind of garlic. I found this out today when I tried to buy three bulbs. The vendor gave me a bit of a confused looked, and asked if I had a garden (giving me a look like I could not possibly be a gardener). I immediately panicked, thinking my reputation as someone who kills all plants had crossed an ocean, wondering how he KNEW I was a terrible gardener. Then he explained that the ones I was trying to buy were for planting... and the ones for eating were at the other end of the counter. Ah. Who knew?
3. I shouldn't take John with me when I buy cheese. It's not exactly cheap, but it's SOOOOOOOOOOO good. He just didn't know how good. Until now. Sigh. (Cheese of the week: an amazing cheese from high in the Alps that had been aged 29 months. I need to start bringing a pen to the market and writing down names... I always think I'll remember, but I never do.)
4. If you see people in a line for something, whatever they are buying is probably worth trying. This has turned out to be true for an amazing whole grain bread (two of the last four weeks) and an incredible goat's cheese (today).
5. You can learn a lot by asking where something comes from. One of my earliest market mornings, I asked (just out of curiousity) where the bananas were from (most that I had eaten in my life were from North and South America and I wondered where French bananas came from). The vendor said, a bit apologetically, that they were not from Martinique, but from Cote d'Ivoire. Well, at the next vendor, I saw bananas from Martinique. And they were delicious. Today, a vendor was selling two kinds of strawberries, one a bit more expensive than the other. I asked where they were from. These, he said with great pride, are from southern France. These others, he said, were from... Spain (the way he said it made it sound like he had found those strawberries under his couch, leftover from a long ago spring, and he was very sorry he was having to display them). He also said the French ones were more fragrant (had more perfume) while the Spanish ones had more sugar. I tried the French ones. They were magnifique.
6. It's kind of hilarious to watch two people with bad French accents try to talk to each other (example: the kind man selling Asian food (spring rolls, samosas, noodle dishes) and me). Neither of understood a word the other said, but somehow he ended up with his money and I ended up with spring rolls. I guess that's a victory of sorts.
7. And the best suggestion of all came from the website of David Lebovitz (source of my tasty chicken recipe). "One thing I've learned in France," he wrote, "is that if someone who's an expert tells you to eat something—you should eat it."
He's right.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
How to keep everyone happy
It's a Wednesday, which means no school for the kids, which means (until now), traipsing off to tour a castle or cathedral or cheese-making abbey.
But today we stayed closer to home. When talking with our new friends Alli and John over the weekend, we came up with the brilliant plan of exchanging our offspring occasionally to allow the adults to go out on a date -- or at least get lunch in a place where you wouldn't want to take your kids. And so today it was our turn (and next week we'll be returning the favor).
So we left Jack, Kate, and Liv happily playing with their new friends - and this was the kind of day they had (Photo courtesy Allison G. M.)
After sipping a wonderful 2006 white wine opened by John and Alli, we headed out to La Ciboulette, a great little restaurant in Beaune that locals seem to love. And this was the kind of day we had:
Yes, that's the cheese course in front of me. You have to love a country that devotes a whole course to cheese.
Here's to good eating and good friends (of all ages).
But today we stayed closer to home. When talking with our new friends Alli and John over the weekend, we came up with the brilliant plan of exchanging our offspring occasionally to allow the adults to go out on a date -- or at least get lunch in a place where you wouldn't want to take your kids. And so today it was our turn (and next week we'll be returning the favor).
So we left Jack, Kate, and Liv happily playing with their new friends - and this was the kind of day they had (Photo courtesy Allison G. M.)
After sipping a wonderful 2006 white wine opened by John and Alli, we headed out to La Ciboulette, a great little restaurant in Beaune that locals seem to love. And this was the kind of day we had:
Yes, that's the cheese course in front of me. You have to love a country that devotes a whole course to cheese.
Here's to good eating and good friends (of all ages).
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
No, it's not always quite so amazing
The last few posts have been a bit larger than life, and I realized that it may look like our existence right now is made up of big sunshiney trips to Paris and seven hour gourmet meals every day.
It's not.
In fact, a lot of our life here looks much like it did in Lethbridge. So much of the day is focused on the routine and admittedly boring (but necessary) jobs of preparing meals, cleaning up from meals (marveling each time at just how messy the floor can get -- it never got that messy before kids, and without a dog, it is worse than ever), doing laundry (which we do quite often as we didn't bring that many clothes), keeping the house clean, getting groceries, doing our work, driving kids to and from school on school days, emailing or calling family when possible, paying bills (almost all of them online, thankfully), and the countless fun and not so fun jobs of life with three kids (wiping bums, helping wash hair, trimming nails, resolving (or avoiding) sibling conflicts, taking walks, helping with homework, trying to help them write thank you cards, finding favorite toys, building Lego, reading books and more).
But as much as I love the rhythm and routine of these parts of my daily life, I woudn't want to write a blog about it -- and I am not sure that anyone would want to read it!
In addition to the mundane, there are parts of life here than are, in fact, less than perfect.We just found out today that Lauren, the eldest daughter of our friends who came to play Sunday, broke her wrist when she fell running down from Coconut Mountain with Jack. It didn't swell up and she was able to move it some on Sunday, so everyone (me included) thought it was just a sprain. But one trip to the ER this morning after it continued hurting, and Lauren returned home with a cast, some pain medicine, and a good story to tell.
Another less than perfect part are the language struggles. It is 1000 times better for me than it was in Japan, and for that I am grateful. I take every opportunity I can to practice with real French speakers (the nice matron across the street who was gardening while I waited for Jack's bus, the grandfather walking home from dropping his grandchildren at the bus stop, the baker at the boulangerie, the parents of Jack's friends, the kids' teachers, just about anyone) and I have found I can keep up with quite a bit of any given conversation.
But there is a big difference between quite a bit and all... and what happens in those missed parts ranges from the amusing to the possibly serious. For instance -- I know for sure that I agreed with the grandfather walking home today that the Quebec accent is quite difficult to understand (I found the same thing to be true). But I may have also agreed that Canada's prime minister, or maybe it was France's prime minister, was a horse's behind. Or perhaps simply that one of them was riding a horse once. I'll never know, but I was nodding enthusiastically.
On the less amusing side -- Jack came home from school today and reported that his teacher said there were two men wearing sunglasses and driving a white car in the village where he goes to school who were possibly kidnapping children. But as soon as those words were out of his mouth, he added that he wasn't exactly sure about that. He doesn't think anyone HAD been kidnapped -- yet. It may have just been a lesson in not talking to strangers, and then two men in sunglasses *could* be riding around the village looking to kidnap children. The teacher, Jack added, did tell them to not talk to strangers.
Ah, such clarity for everyone. We will be asking the mother of Jack's friend who is coming to play tomorrow exactly what the teacher said -- and in the meantime, John kept all three of them in closer range this afternoon when he took them up to Les Chaumes to play (just in case!). While they were there, John reports, three of the four cars that passed by happened to be white -- including one that looked especially sketchy to newly paranoid parents. (As John stared the car down, Jack reassured him with exasperation and a smile that "it doesn't mean they're ALL criminals, dad!")
Also on the less-than-fabulous side is that things are very expensive here. Aside from baguettes and wine, almost everything here seems to cost more than it does in Canada, and much more than it does in the U.S. (We are especially aware of this as the girls' shoes are getting tight and replacing them will not be a cheap endeavor). But a blog complaining about that would quickly grow boring (I think), so we just do our best with the budget and figure we'll have lots of time in Lethbridge to build our savings account back up.
There are other parts that are less-than-perfect. I think we have all at one time or another had moments of being lonely or homesick or exhausted or frustrated or annoyed and more. But thankfully those have been just moments, and not days (or weeks or months!) -- and when they happen, we try to remember that even if we had stayed in Lethbridge, we would have all had moments of being lonely, or bored (and wishing we were travelling), and exhausted, frustrated, annoyed, and more.
It might be because I'm definitely a glass-half-full kind of person, or maybe because I like to write the kinds of stories I also like to read (the funny stories, or the unusual stories, or the French stories) -- but at any rate, you can be sure that in between the burning of straw bon hommes, between trying smelly and stupendous cheeses, between making the kinds of friends you want to stay in touch with always, and seeing great sights... there is a lot of regular life happening here.
Or at least as regular as life in a small French village can be. Did I mention how, on my way home from a run yesterday, I met a man walking his tiny dog and his ugly donkey down the street?
Really. And that's just not something I'd ever expect to see at home.
It's not.
In fact, a lot of our life here looks much like it did in Lethbridge. So much of the day is focused on the routine and admittedly boring (but necessary) jobs of preparing meals, cleaning up from meals (marveling each time at just how messy the floor can get -- it never got that messy before kids, and without a dog, it is worse than ever), doing laundry (which we do quite often as we didn't bring that many clothes), keeping the house clean, getting groceries, doing our work, driving kids to and from school on school days, emailing or calling family when possible, paying bills (almost all of them online, thankfully), and the countless fun and not so fun jobs of life with three kids (wiping bums, helping wash hair, trimming nails, resolving (or avoiding) sibling conflicts, taking walks, helping with homework, trying to help them write thank you cards, finding favorite toys, building Lego, reading books and more).
But as much as I love the rhythm and routine of these parts of my daily life, I woudn't want to write a blog about it -- and I am not sure that anyone would want to read it!
In addition to the mundane, there are parts of life here than are, in fact, less than perfect.We just found out today that Lauren, the eldest daughter of our friends who came to play Sunday, broke her wrist when she fell running down from Coconut Mountain with Jack. It didn't swell up and she was able to move it some on Sunday, so everyone (me included) thought it was just a sprain. But one trip to the ER this morning after it continued hurting, and Lauren returned home with a cast, some pain medicine, and a good story to tell.
Another less than perfect part are the language struggles. It is 1000 times better for me than it was in Japan, and for that I am grateful. I take every opportunity I can to practice with real French speakers (the nice matron across the street who was gardening while I waited for Jack's bus, the grandfather walking home from dropping his grandchildren at the bus stop, the baker at the boulangerie, the parents of Jack's friends, the kids' teachers, just about anyone) and I have found I can keep up with quite a bit of any given conversation.
But there is a big difference between quite a bit and all... and what happens in those missed parts ranges from the amusing to the possibly serious. For instance -- I know for sure that I agreed with the grandfather walking home today that the Quebec accent is quite difficult to understand (I found the same thing to be true). But I may have also agreed that Canada's prime minister, or maybe it was France's prime minister, was a horse's behind. Or perhaps simply that one of them was riding a horse once. I'll never know, but I was nodding enthusiastically.
On the less amusing side -- Jack came home from school today and reported that his teacher said there were two men wearing sunglasses and driving a white car in the village where he goes to school who were possibly kidnapping children. But as soon as those words were out of his mouth, he added that he wasn't exactly sure about that. He doesn't think anyone HAD been kidnapped -- yet. It may have just been a lesson in not talking to strangers, and then two men in sunglasses *could* be riding around the village looking to kidnap children. The teacher, Jack added, did tell them to not talk to strangers.
Ah, such clarity for everyone. We will be asking the mother of Jack's friend who is coming to play tomorrow exactly what the teacher said -- and in the meantime, John kept all three of them in closer range this afternoon when he took them up to Les Chaumes to play (just in case!). While they were there, John reports, three of the four cars that passed by happened to be white -- including one that looked especially sketchy to newly paranoid parents. (As John stared the car down, Jack reassured him with exasperation and a smile that "it doesn't mean they're ALL criminals, dad!")
Also on the less-than-fabulous side is that things are very expensive here. Aside from baguettes and wine, almost everything here seems to cost more than it does in Canada, and much more than it does in the U.S. (We are especially aware of this as the girls' shoes are getting tight and replacing them will not be a cheap endeavor). But a blog complaining about that would quickly grow boring (I think), so we just do our best with the budget and figure we'll have lots of time in Lethbridge to build our savings account back up.
There are other parts that are less-than-perfect. I think we have all at one time or another had moments of being lonely or homesick or exhausted or frustrated or annoyed and more. But thankfully those have been just moments, and not days (or weeks or months!) -- and when they happen, we try to remember that even if we had stayed in Lethbridge, we would have all had moments of being lonely, or bored (and wishing we were travelling), and exhausted, frustrated, annoyed, and more.
It might be because I'm definitely a glass-half-full kind of person, or maybe because I like to write the kinds of stories I also like to read (the funny stories, or the unusual stories, or the French stories) -- but at any rate, you can be sure that in between the burning of straw bon hommes, between trying smelly and stupendous cheeses, between making the kinds of friends you want to stay in touch with always, and seeing great sights... there is a lot of regular life happening here.
Or at least as regular as life in a small French village can be. Did I mention how, on my way home from a run yesterday, I met a man walking his tiny dog and his ugly donkey down the street?
Really. And that's just not something I'd ever expect to see at home.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Paris in a different light
It's hard not to love Paris, and being there fills your mind with so many ideas, plans, and thoughts. It is everything everyone says it is -- beautiful, romantic, dreamy, inspiring, vivid, bustling, gorgeous. Katie, for one, didn't want to leave. She told me that in between visiting Jack in Alaska (where he is going to raise sled dogs) and Olivia in Hawaii (where she is going to be a surfer girl and never, ever wear socks), she plans to live in Paris and be an artist.
What is a little surprising to me, though, is that the thought that raced through my mind the most often throughout our brief stay in the city of lights last week was this: I am SO glad we are not living here.
Paris with children is a wonderful place to visit. Paris with children can be full of jaw-dropping, take-your-breath-away kinds of experiences. Our children saw so many things they had heard about, and read about, and thought about -- and they got to see it all, for real, right in front of them: the Eiffel Tower, Degas's Dancer, all of Ancient Egypt at the Louvre. I am so glad we went, and so glad they got this experience.
But I am also so glad we ended up spending this sabbatical in tiny Villers-la-Faye and not the monstrous metropolis to the northwest. Navigating the wine roads of Burgundy is so much more manageable than keeping track of little ones on a subway or crowded city street. Being able to live in a stand-alone house with three children whose voices have never been what you could call quiet and who have room to run around outside makes our own life so much easier than if we were in an apartment or shared dwelling worrying about the pounding of footsteps, the cries of bad dreams, and the shouts of excitement that can occur at any time of day or night. And then when you factor in the high cost of everything, the crowds, the lines, the traffic... the trip reaffirmed many times that we made the right choice for us.
So while I still (and always will) love Paris, and while I am glad we went (and will go again), I was so glad to get home. Being close enough to visit (we can even go there for a day -- it's just over 90 minutes on the fast train from Dijon) is probably the best of all worlds for us.
And all of that said -- we still had a great time. We stayed in the first arrondisement in a fifth floor mirrored "studio" which had a little loft for the kids (which they LOVED). It was a long walk up the rickety wooden stairs, and I tried to not dwell too much on the fire hazard those stairs presented -- but it had a little kitchen and best of all, it was two blocks away from the Seine and we walked easily to the Louvre, the Musée D'Orsay and more.
Our first stop Tuesday morning was the Les Tuileries, the most central park in Paris.
We then headed over one of Paris's 36 bridges to the Musée D'Orsay, a former train station that was transformed into a museum in 1986.
First on the list of things to see (once we stopped looking up at the incredible ceiling and giant clock and maneuvered past dozens of marble statues) was the Petite Danseuse de 14 ans by Edgar Degas. We have been reading about her a lot (as well as about some of Degas's kittens in another children's book) and she was the one piece of art that Katie and Livie knew they wanted to see. In the third picture below, you can see Liv trying out the little dancer's moves.
There are great long benches in the museum where you can rest, observe the art, and check out your pictures for a bit, too.
This was Jack's favorite piece -- a young prince of France and his loyal hound. It made us all miss Kaia very much.
We decided to splurge on lunch at the VERY fancy museum restaurant. They had a great children's menu (as well as an amazing regular menu) and it was one of our favorite meals and restaurant experiences so far.
After leaving the museum, we headed in the sunshine to what is probably the most memorable (and unusual) store any of us has ever seen. At our friend Alli's recommendation (and with help from a kid-friendly Paris guidebook sent by my oldest friend, Suzanne), we found ourselves at Paris's last taxidermy store, called Deyrolle (you must read more about it here and here.)
Nearly destroyed by a fire in 2008 (as one writer explained, it was quite creepy to think of those dead animals having to go through it all over again), the store was rebuilt to its magical splendor and we could have spent a whole day there, examining the butterflies, bugs, fowl, furry creatures and more.
We did not purchase any of the multi-thousand euro stuffed animals at the store -- but we did walk away with one North American-approved, well packed and preserved bug that Jack plans to give to some bug-crazy family friends.
We then walked back to our studio and had a bit of a rest. Kate and Liv said they wanted to stay and have a tea party, so Jack and I struck out again at about 4 p.m. for the Eiffel Tower. The line to ride up the elevator was long, and it was cold, but Jack did not complain a bit. He just couldn't wait to get to the top.
The next morning, we slept in and John went out for baguettes and croissants at the neighborhood boulangerie. We then packed our bags, left them with the front desk, and headed straight for the Louvre.
Again, there was a huge crowd but we made it in eventually and decided to check out Ancient Egypt.
In this section, Katie and Livie liked the ancient jewelry best. They picked out their favorites and wondered if we could get some jewelry like that some day. Um, no, I said. Probably not.
We also faced the usual run of four-year-old non-stop questions. Why does that man have a tail (I think he's a merman). Are mermen real (no, I don't think so). Then why did they make a sculpture of one? (Because someone thought it would be beautiful or interesting?). Katie's other insightful comment was that a lot of those sculptures (including the Venus de Milo and one of my favorites, The Three Graces), would look prettier with clothes on. Well, à chacun son gout, I thought (to each her own).
At Jack's request, John and Jack did a high-speed detour to head over to the Mona Lisa (which Jack said he liked -- although it wasn't a favorite) while the girls and I made our way through the palace-turned-museum at a bit of a slower (and more direct) pace. Eventually, we met up with John and Jack again and said goodbye to the Louvre. We picked up our bags, took the subway to the train station, and within minutes of settling into our seats on the fast train home, the kids were all asleep -- dreaming of Paris, maybe, or of other adventures to come.
What is a little surprising to me, though, is that the thought that raced through my mind the most often throughout our brief stay in the city of lights last week was this: I am SO glad we are not living here.
Paris with children is a wonderful place to visit. Paris with children can be full of jaw-dropping, take-your-breath-away kinds of experiences. Our children saw so many things they had heard about, and read about, and thought about -- and they got to see it all, for real, right in front of them: the Eiffel Tower, Degas's Dancer, all of Ancient Egypt at the Louvre. I am so glad we went, and so glad they got this experience.
But I am also so glad we ended up spending this sabbatical in tiny Villers-la-Faye and not the monstrous metropolis to the northwest. Navigating the wine roads of Burgundy is so much more manageable than keeping track of little ones on a subway or crowded city street. Being able to live in a stand-alone house with three children whose voices have never been what you could call quiet and who have room to run around outside makes our own life so much easier than if we were in an apartment or shared dwelling worrying about the pounding of footsteps, the cries of bad dreams, and the shouts of excitement that can occur at any time of day or night. And then when you factor in the high cost of everything, the crowds, the lines, the traffic... the trip reaffirmed many times that we made the right choice for us.
So while I still (and always will) love Paris, and while I am glad we went (and will go again), I was so glad to get home. Being close enough to visit (we can even go there for a day -- it's just over 90 minutes on the fast train from Dijon) is probably the best of all worlds for us.
And all of that said -- we still had a great time. We stayed in the first arrondisement in a fifth floor mirrored "studio" which had a little loft for the kids (which they LOVED). It was a long walk up the rickety wooden stairs, and I tried to not dwell too much on the fire hazard those stairs presented -- but it had a little kitchen and best of all, it was two blocks away from the Seine and we walked easily to the Louvre, the Musée D'Orsay and more.
Our first stop Tuesday morning was the Les Tuileries, the most central park in Paris.
We then headed over one of Paris's 36 bridges to the Musée D'Orsay, a former train station that was transformed into a museum in 1986.
First on the list of things to see (once we stopped looking up at the incredible ceiling and giant clock and maneuvered past dozens of marble statues) was the Petite Danseuse de 14 ans by Edgar Degas. We have been reading about her a lot (as well as about some of Degas's kittens in another children's book) and she was the one piece of art that Katie and Livie knew they wanted to see. In the third picture below, you can see Liv trying out the little dancer's moves.
There are great long benches in the museum where you can rest, observe the art, and check out your pictures for a bit, too.
This was Jack's favorite piece -- a young prince of France and his loyal hound. It made us all miss Kaia very much.
We decided to splurge on lunch at the VERY fancy museum restaurant. They had a great children's menu (as well as an amazing regular menu) and it was one of our favorite meals and restaurant experiences so far.
After leaving the museum, we headed in the sunshine to what is probably the most memorable (and unusual) store any of us has ever seen. At our friend Alli's recommendation (and with help from a kid-friendly Paris guidebook sent by my oldest friend, Suzanne), we found ourselves at Paris's last taxidermy store, called Deyrolle (you must read more about it here and here.)
Nearly destroyed by a fire in 2008 (as one writer explained, it was quite creepy to think of those dead animals having to go through it all over again), the store was rebuilt to its magical splendor and we could have spent a whole day there, examining the butterflies, bugs, fowl, furry creatures and more.
We did not purchase any of the multi-thousand euro stuffed animals at the store -- but we did walk away with one North American-approved, well packed and preserved bug that Jack plans to give to some bug-crazy family friends.
We then walked back to our studio and had a bit of a rest. Kate and Liv said they wanted to stay and have a tea party, so Jack and I struck out again at about 4 p.m. for the Eiffel Tower. The line to ride up the elevator was long, and it was cold, but Jack did not complain a bit. He just couldn't wait to get to the top.
We were exhausted when we finally got home -- but thrilled, too. Because of the long line, by the time we took the elevator down from the top and stopped to see the view on the second story, we were able to enjoy hot chocolate as the sun was setting. Talk about a memorable moment.
Again, there was a huge crowd but we made it in eventually and decided to check out Ancient Egypt.
In this section, Katie and Livie liked the ancient jewelry best. They picked out their favorites and wondered if we could get some jewelry like that some day. Um, no, I said. Probably not.
We also faced the usual run of four-year-old non-stop questions. Why does that man have a tail (I think he's a merman). Are mermen real (no, I don't think so). Then why did they make a sculpture of one? (Because someone thought it would be beautiful or interesting?). Katie's other insightful comment was that a lot of those sculptures (including the Venus de Milo and one of my favorites, The Three Graces), would look prettier with clothes on. Well, à chacun son gout, I thought (to each her own).
At Jack's request, John and Jack did a high-speed detour to head over to the Mona Lisa (which Jack said he liked -- although it wasn't a favorite) while the girls and I made our way through the palace-turned-museum at a bit of a slower (and more direct) pace. Eventually, we met up with John and Jack again and said goodbye to the Louvre. We picked up our bags, took the subway to the train station, and within minutes of settling into our seats on the fast train home, the kids were all asleep -- dreaming of Paris, maybe, or of other adventures to come.
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