mama-tchou-tchou

Our blog, it is a-changin'...

2010-01-05T12:44:00.000+01:00

For reasons that we know some of you can relate to personally and most of you can certainly understand (including but not limited to a stalking ex and a really screwed-up neighbour), we are doing as many others have, and creating a "members only" blog.

If we know or are fairly certain that you read our blog, then we will definitely send you the password and so on. If we haven't heard from you in a while, or never knew you were perusing, then we may not think to send them your way. We apologise in advance for any oversights!

You can contact us in the usual ways, though. So please don't hesitate to, and we'll send the relevant info along, pronto. For a couple of weeks, at least, you will also be able to leave a message at the bottom of this post.

In the meantime: Hugs and warm wishes from all of us to all of you!

A Year's Worth of Lotsa

2009-12-31T16:44:00.009+01:00

Don't worry, this post won't be a year's worth long! The other day, though, looking back on the year that's about to give way to another, I realised that an incredible amount of things have come to pass chez nous in the last 365 days. There were changes and more changes, ups and downs, bigs and littles, stranges and wonderfuls... There was learning, adjusting and readjusting, dealing with and letting go, discovering and rediscovering... There was alot.

Thinking back and through it all, though, I kept coming back to one incredible three-day weekend that I spent with my three B. Boys this autumn. It was one of those times that encapsulates for me all of the good/wonderful, lovely/gorgeous, funny/hilarious things about those three, and made me realise once again just how lucky I've been in love.

Which brings me to another point, which is really the point, which is:

Here's wishing happiness and love to all of our loved ones* near and far, in the coming year!

* and their loved ones, and their loved ones' loved ones, and their loved ones' loved ones' loved ones, and...

Boxing Octopux

2009-11-12T08:43:00.014+01:00

Yesterday was a rainy Armistice Day, so we went to the movies (Panda! Go Panda!—huge thumbs up from all four of us) and spent the rest of the day drawing or trying to make sense of the disorder of our household, depending upon the age of the individual. Frankly, I wished I were doing like the young 'uns, but had to allow for the fact that by organising things in my studio space, I could better be drawing in the near future. Today, for example.

Speaking of today: This morning, the boys were hilariously sweet about getting up at a godforsaken hour and all. I was helping them keep concentrated on getting their shoes on, when Leo suddenly needed more than anything else to prove to me that he could read the names on his* "person Dinosaur King cards". Which prompted Tomi to claim that he could write them without seeing them. He ran off and came back with a piece of paper that had "Zoé" written on it, as proof. This caused a mini scandal toot sweet, because... He'd written on one of Leo's drawings. He said he was sorry immediately (not a first, exactly, but rare enough to be noticed), and pointed out that we could cut that part of the paper off. I wanted to laugh. Leo was reasonable about it, but pointed out in turn that this wasn't possible, because... There was a full-page drawing on the other side. When he turned the page over, this is what I saw:

I couldn't imagine where he'd've gotten this idea, and tried to question without cueing him. Turns out he was thinking of a street party we were at about a month and a half ago. There was a boxing club who'd set up a ring at one end of the street, and were inviting people to have a gentle go. When asked if he'd ever seen boxing octopuses, he laughed incredulously and said, "Nho-o-oh!" (As in: "Uhm... Are you serious?") I'm still wondering, but am willing to be a be reluctant believer...

* Since we parents refuse all requests for Dinosaur King cards, Leo has been trading Pokémon cards here and there for the damn things. Ah, well...

footnotes
1 Note the person-legs on the gloved boxer
2 The mohawked-oct isn't wearing gloves because "he doesn't
need them"
3 Tomi suggested that the plural of a boxing octopus be "boxing
octopux", or "octopux qui buxent [sic]"

Back to School Daze

2009-09-08T21:01:00.012+02:00

After a long stint States-side this summer, we landed safely this-side; did a decent job handling jet lag; saw our newly-wed friends off for their Italian honeymoon; and came smack-bang up against Real Life, which had a few surprises, and all of it hurtling at us at once.

So-so suddenly, it was September 3rd, and we were banging the alarm clock quiet, dressing still-sleeping boys, downing a coffee, making sure the snacks were in the packs, and making the long haul to the boys' new school.

Then there was the greeting of the new teachers, and the long good-byes, complete with tears, sobs, and even a little uprising. (While Tomi's teacher addressed adults and children en masse, the sea of adults standing in front of Jean-Philippe and me began to sway and part, and suddenly a small, determined little mass of sadness and fury that very much resembled our little boy stood before us in the doorway, coat and bag in hand, saying, "Aller ! Je m'en vais avec vous !")* When we'd finally got him re-seated, we beat our retreat—with a few glances back, nonetheless. Leo was still looking lost, and fighting back tears; and Tomi's teacher was bent over him gently, talking...

We parents had a coffee together at a local bistro, and began our new-home-hunting: scouring the streets in the area, looking for For Sale signs that don't appear in the ads or at the agencies. I was hoping that the walking would excercise that morning's demons; instead, it worked them into a lather. By the time we sat down for lunch, I was ready for a good cry.

We love their old school, their teachers, the friends and acquaintences (big and little) we've made there, the lovely walk through La Petite France to get there... We love our home, with its ancient charm, the view from the windows, the terrace... We love this part of the city, with everything you could want or need within a 2-7 minute walk, including the butcher, the baker, and even a candlestick maker!

It's not that we won't find lots to love about wherever we move to, in the end, but... well... I can't imagine it, yet. And anyway, we haven't found said place, yet. So Back to School Days turned quickly into Back to School Daze for kids and parents alike in this family.

There was a glimmer of hope on Day 2, when we took the boys up to the doors and said our fare-thee-wells. Tomi began to melt, but the following conversation ensued:

Mom: You can do this! You're a brave little button!

Tomi: No, I'm not brave!

Mom: Yes, you are. And you proved it to us, just this week!

Tomi: How I did proved it to you?

Mom: Remember when you shucked your armbands off at the pool, and started swimming before my eyes? You knew you could do it, so you plucked up your courage and DID it. You were SO brave! If you can do that, you can do this.

Tomi: (whispering, with a shy look of pride growing on his face) Yeah!

Jean-Philippe had been seeing Leo off as this took place, and came over with a smile at this point. Tomi gave us each a kiss and walked right into the room.

But in the few seconds between his parents' hugs, Leo had had the time to take in the full extent of the situation. By the time I got to him, the bottomless Sob Pit had begun to disgorge its convulsive gaspings. Soothing words were proving useless, and the bell had rung, so I hugged him and said, "You've got to go in, now, hon." He answered, "I-hi ca-han't g-gho ih-ih-ih-hin!" Me: "Why not?" Leo: "Bhe-he-cause I-hi ca-han't s-s-s-st-hop this (he indicated his heaving torso) this... this cr-cry-hing!" So I borrowed from Obama: "Yes, you can," and added, "It just takes time." We hugged, and his teacher came out, and the school day had begun.

As I mentioned in a note on Facebook, the change of schools is good, in that they are in an international school, with a bilingual program in English (among other languages). But the change was bound to be brutal for them, because the school's all the way across town (= MUCH longer days, for several reasons), and much bigger and less beautiful than the old school. But more importantly: their friends weren't changing schools with them! And then, preschool & kindergarten are much less demanding than elementary school. When asked about their first day, their first response was, "We didn't play! We didn't draw!" Which made me laugh at first, but then made me reflect once again on all of the massive changes that they are going through right now, and how hard it must be, coming all at once as it is.

Ach!

* "Let's go! I'm leaving with you!"

p.s. Hopefully, I'll find the time to blog about the other big and little things that went on in our lives this summer. But the chances are slimmer with every passing day. I started a blog post about our three-or-four-part vacation in the States, for instance, but the sheer number of things that we had done made it impossible to decide how to blog about it, and which stories and images to share. Ach! again...

At Long Last!

2009-06-23T13:35:00.004+02:00

The book I've been working on frantically for the past few weeks and more has, at long last, been sent to the printer! If you'd like a look at a few of the pages within, as well as a bit of an explanation as to how and why this project came about, feel free to take a look at my work blog, either by clicking on the link on the right side of this blog, or by clicking here.

More Fun With Bugs

2009-05-29T15:51:00.008+02:00

A drawing done the other night, from the day's memories...

Above is a fleeting moment in the lives of two boys who love bugs. Or, more to the point: bug hunting. And bug sequestering. And so on. Every once in a while, they also love bug squishing. But for now, they are generally very good to the bugs they find. They feed them and add little extras - leaves, twigs - to the bug containers, to make their captives' lives that much more comfortable. If it's weevils, though, they scream, "MO-O-O-O-O-O-M! There's a BAD BEETLE! QUICK! SQUISH IT!"

Interlude: Why is it that Moms are always given the most thankless of tasks? I ask you.

The other day, we were slo-o-o-owly making our way home from school, with Tomi stopping at every tree and searching... searching... searching... I can't imagine what took me so long to figure out what it was that was so interesting at the foot of the trees. Ladybugs, of course. Tomi claims that the trees are usually full of them, though this is the first I've heard of it. In any case, we got to the very last tree of our homeward path, and Tomi gasped with delight: "A LADYBUG!" He scooped it up and carried it all the way home, despite the relentless tickling, where we sequestered it - of course. The next morning, Tomi gasped again and cried out, "EGGS! SHE LAID TWO SETS OF EGGS!" And sure enough... So we gave her a leaf full of aphids, to encourage her growth and that of the eventual larvæ. We shall see what becomes of this experiment...

In any case, excitement abounds! Heh! heh!

Weevils Wobble...

2009-05-14T00:19:00.011+02:00

They really do! Not that I think you wanted to know that. I didn't want to know that, either. But when you've whacked upwards of a hundred of them (and that's not including their larva and the pupæ), you start to know these things. And more.

But hang on. Did you even know that weevils exist? Because I didn't. But they do. And there is a huge nest of them on my terrace. I used to think they were dung beetles of some sort. (Don't even get me started on the pigeon nest under the terrace. Or the view from our neighbour's hallway window...) Then, when my parents were visiting last Xmas, we went to the Natural History Museum, and what to my wonder?! but the little beggars were pinned in there with so many more worthwhile subjects, labeled Otiorhynchus ligustici. I noted it down, but was told by a guy at the nursery not to worry about them until May-ish.

And now it is May-ish. And we are being overrun. Overrun, I tell you. So I started whacking yesterday. The boys loved that. I didn't. Then, after a bit of a web-hunt this evening, I went on a weevil hunt. Dug out the old pine that was languishing against the wall in the back of the terrace, and found, to my horror, absolute masses of the creatures and their spawn. More whacking. Ugh. Went out about an hour ago, and, well... had to start whacking again. So...

Tomorrow I'll be off to the nursery again, to buy me something nasty (but organic). I'm not really for this kind of thing, normally, but I can't keep the whacking up. It's got to stop. And these beasts are eating all of my lovliest leaves.

There's one for you: Did you know that weevils eat only the tenderest leaves? I did; though, as I've already taken pains to explain, I didn't know it was weevils until this afternoon. I also figured out all on my own that they are creatures of the night. And that they are extremely tenacious. They can hold on to the side of a flushing toilet for half of the flush, for instance. But when they "get it" (and if they are not in a toilet bowl that is being flushed), they drop and play dead. This took me a while to catch on to, unfortunately.

Okay, I'm all weevil'd out.

One last thing, before I head to bed, though:
I was reading to the boys last night, when there was a strange sound, as though someone were hurling pebbles at the windows and missing (thankfully). We ran into the kitchen as Jean-Philippe was calling to come and see, and saw the above. The boys pulled on sweatshirts as soon as the hailstorm had ended, and began a frantic race for ice-rocks, which we stashed in the freezer for... what? Later? I dunno, but it was cute. And then it was over. And so was the Little Golden Book. And lights went out. The end.

'Night-'night!

Making What?

2009-05-10T17:11:00.028+02:00

Above Bat Cat and Dr. Archibald Techt (it's not easy to see, but Leo'd made a whole series of bridges out of dinosaurs, so that the Pokémons wouldn't have to touch the water and risk getting eaten by sharks (?! Frankly, I'm not sure which would be worse: shark bite? dinosaur bite? shark bite? dinosaur bite? The debate rages on...)), last October 20th.

Was cleaning up my studio space (a good-sized corner of the living room in our apartment) this afternoon, and came across one of the trillions of little notes I've scribbled out and lost over the past 39 years. This one was from 20 October 2008; not as far back in the mists of time as others I've found over the years. Anyway, it made me laugh (again)...

Leo
Can you print some Pokémon pictures?

Mom
Not now. Right now I'm trying to clean up this house (indicates the table, piled with life's important documents and detritus), clear some space...

Leo
It's what, "clear some space"?

Mom
It's "cleaning up an area", "making..."

Tomi (in a sing-song voice, from their "workspace")
...making babies...

Mom & Tomi
ha! ha! ha! ha!

Scalawags!

2009-05-07T22:02:00.010+02:00

(pre-script: translations at the bottom of the page)

So... The boys peed and got their hands, faces and teeth brushed tonight, and we settled down to read. One of the things I read was A Busy Year, which Gramma gave Leo for his first birthday, and which I hadn't read in a few months. As we got towards the end, Leo said, "C'est l'automne !" and Tomi said, "C'est presque Christmas ! Le père noël va venir !" and Leo said, "Yeah, an' he's bringing caca !" to which I absent- and motherly-single-mindedly (as in: we-are-reading-a-book-let's-concentrate-on-the-book) said, "Oh, Leo, come on."

And then we got to the last page:

December came... and then it was Christmas. Winnie stepped forward to give Woody her present. "What is it?" asked Willie. "Manure!" said Winnie triumphantly.

Leo and Tomi collapsed in one of the most startlingly hilarious fits of giggles they've had to date. They certainly couldn't have heard me read:

But Woody laughed. "Fertilizer is just what I need." And she meant it.

They are such a gas.

Oh, and speaking of which: when I kissed him good-night, Tomi giggled, "I farted!" ...and they collapsed again.

Like mother, like sons, I guess!

Speaking of whom...

Above are a couple of pictures of Puck and Peaseblossom, (a.k.a, Christopher Robin and Robert Louis, a.k.a...) taken on the sands surrounding Marseille and the Island of Frioul. I'm going to try and blog about it all, but we had an absolutely excellent time in Marseille, visiting friends - notably, Agnès, our aulde guardian speed roadster demon friend-of-friends - and soaking in the sun, being flung about by the mistral, walking to break Rimbaud's records, eating and drinking copiously of all things local...

****************

translations: "It's autumn!" "It's almost noël! Father Christmas will be coming!" "Oui, et il va amener du poop!"

La fleur de vie*

2009-04-23T08:43:00.008+02:00

One of the boys' favourite movies is The White Serpent Enchantress, a beautiful love story, based on a Chinese folk tale and set to animation by Taiji Yabushita in 1958. Yesterday, while little Tomi recovered from yet another bout of bug, he watched and drew and drew and drew. When he was done with this one, I was talking with him about the lovely colours, and he asked, "Est-ce qu'on peut le print it?" ("Can we l'imprimer it?") He wanted to make copies to send as cards. So we scanned it, and... It turns out that flourescent markers (used for half of the colours, here) don't scan well at all. It was such a let down for both of us. But I reworked some of the colours and promised him a page on the blog. We might get around to printing, one of these days before the boys turn 18. You never do know. Seeing as how I can't even get a photo of the little guy with a crown on his head, though...

But! I did get a few photos this week, including:

Two happy boys in short-pants-cum-shorts made by Gamma with heart. And talent! They LOVE them. So do their parents. And we also love the fact that they are made to fray, but only so far: if you look closely, you can see where she's stitched the hem, in order that they not fray too far and get gross. Class!

One sick boy and one well boy, reunited after school and up to their usual imaginative ways. While I made dinner, they took a box that was in the recycling pile and turned it into a beehive. Then they drew bees and spread them on the floor around the hive. Then they cut a hole in the hive, so the bees could enter. And then they decided that their Pokémons, Etc. were honorary bees for a day. But when they pushed the Pokémons through the hole, they flew out of the designated 'hive space'. So the boys backed the hive up with other boxes. Here they've rearranged things slightly for the picture. The little orange dinosaur is the Queen Bee...

* la fleur de vie = the flower of life = an important part of the film, one of which you can see in this drawing

A Little Ditty...

2009-04-21T11:03:00.007+02:00

...for Ellen - and for Donnie and Gretchen, too - since the package is as late as ever. I found this by accident this morning, and immediately thought of you all. Happy Birthday, Belle!

(from Whisper of the Heart, a film by Yoshifumi Kondou and Hayao Miyazaki)

ahh... spring... and sproing! heh! heh!

2009-04-16T21:22:00.010+02:00

Above are a couple of springy corners on our burgeoning terrace: the crabapple tree and my forgotten-name beauties, with their attendant insect friends. The boys loved this picture, by the way, because they could spot at least four of their new-found buggy buddies. Can you?

Tomi and I were making a crown tonight. He'd coloured in some cute birds at school and cut them out to make a kind of tiara headpiece. After supper, we started making the headband (p)art, and he decided to go with an animalia theme that went from cute to really freakin' funny. At one point, he asked me to do a "kangaroo mommy with a baby in his pocket." I wasn't too sure of myself, so we Google-imaged "kangaroo." When Tomi said, "Waow!" Leo came racing over, and proceeded to come up with this little ditty, above. It was a frantic, tight squeeze behind my desk for a while, not least because the boys knew they'd be summoned to bed in no time at all. But they were enthralled. And when they're enthralled...

I'll try to get a photo of Tomi in his slightly-too-small-but-oh-well-it's-still-so-cute crown tomorrow...

April Showers...

2009-04-06T20:33:00.011+02:00

...or Already May Flowers?

Well, there was the Nato occupation, yes. But the weekend in question was otherwise lovely. Really lovely. Nato actually accidentally brought home a dear, dear friend. One point in its favour. And it didn't manage to stop two other dear friends from getting married and having the wedding picnic to beat all. For this Nato gets half a point, since it had nothing to do with bringing us all together; but then again, it didn't intervene, which was a happy shock to us all. And it was sunny to set all records. No points for Nato for this one, though, for obvious reasons.

(above) Three of we four, watching the parade of Very Important People cross the Rhein, step out of their vehicles, be snubbed by Berlusconi, get their pictures taken and zoom off to the next thing on their Very Important Agendas. We were also, incidentally, looking for Härry. But he was nowhere to be found. Ah, well! We could (hardly) wait...

(above) The happiest, most well-found couple I've ever known forges ahead and into the future. Meanwhile, our escorts wait outside. (The scene, as we entered, was really funny, with radioed messages of the "shppttft! - yeah, looks like our party - pfftshtff! - three adults two children - psstshshtsht! - party entering - ssztpfft! - party taking the stairs - pshshtftft!" like. We were the last to arrive, and the gendarmes were visibly relieved.) Once inside, there was only us, a few gendarmes, the mayor and a few of his colleagues in a beautifully lit room that was like something out of a movie set in the 70's. Too good to be real. But real it was, and so was the exchange of vows and the kiss that sealed it all...

(above) Bärbel's loving escort (they are really and truly envious of Felix's luck. It'd be heartbreaking, if it weren't so funny); setting out the fabulous picnic; and, "Here's to the future!" ho-HO! The 'real' party's at the end of the summer. If it's even half as good as this day was, it'll be nirvana-esque.

(above) And last, but most certainly not least: our old, dear friend Härry, (and Jean-Philippe, Anne-Sophie and me) on the terrace at 2am - hence, our Sleep Series. Almost every time we're with Härry, we end up with a good series. This one was accidental, though. We wanted for all four to be "sleeping," but in every picture but the last one, a lone pair of eyes was gazing up at the camera. In any case, we're already looking forward to the next Härry sighting, perhaps next year, in Kiev...?

Ciao! Nato, ciao, ciao, ciao!

2009-04-05T12:19:00.032+02:00

Where to start? Well... the beginning is always a good place, I guess. And for me, the beginning is about two months ago, when we were chatting with a friend who works with Jean-Philippe, and the subject of "passes" "in order to go to work" came up.

Passes? To go to work? says I.

During the 60th anniversary Nato summit, says they.

They also says that they work in a "red zone." This is the first time I've heard of zones in Strasbourg, with or without Nato presence. It doesn't yet strike me as of particular consequence. And the truth is that the extent of the consequence doesn't strike me until Friday the 3rd. But I'll come back to that.

From here on out, the thing starts escalating. A friend emails to say that she won't be able to attend a little gathering at our place that weekend, because she's fleeing the city to avoid the mess. More and more people are talking of leaving the city for a three- or four-day weekend. A wave of mass hysteria seems to start, first in ripples. Bits of information are filtering through the webs. Rumours begin circulating. And the funny thing about the rumours is that more of them seem to have been true than untrue. They also seem, for the most part, to have been but tiny little tips of the iceberg.

An example of iceberg tips: First there was whispering about snipers on our roofs. Now, given the more-and-more apparent escalation of security, this didn't seem surprising; more like inevitable, albeit horrifying. But then I run into an aquaintence on the 3rd, whose friends were ousted from their appartment for the weekend - firmly, however politely - in order to provide a roost for the sharp-shooters. Their neighbours all along the quay were similarly ousted. And why were these people chosen? Because they live across the River Ill from the Rohan Palace, where the leaders of 20-odd countries were going to be entertained.

Party on.

The helicopters started circulating a few weeks ago. They came in fits and starts, whirring around, hovering, at first amusing the children, and then, surprise-surprise: the children started worrying. As the summit approached, we were being hovered over with more and more insistence, at all hours of the day and night. In a final rallying effort to wake the masses from their sleepy stupor, a helicopter cruised directly over our heads at 2:30am this morning. Our boys were having more and more trouble falling asleep this last week, worried by the incomprehensible reasons for the noise.

They'd have worried more, had they known what else was flying - though ever so much more lightly - over our heads. While walking to our friends' wedding on Saturday, I was sure I saw a drone overhead. But of course, there can't be drones in the Strasbourg skies, now, can there? So I brushed the thought away and ambled on, convincing myself that the mass hysteria had finally got to my head, too. And then, that night, a friend who works in the diplomatic corps said, "...drones in the air, too..." Ugh.

Anyway.

I managed an invite to Barack Obama's "Town Hall Meeting," which was anything but (a town hall meeting). It was actually a let-down in more ways than one. But it did allow me a brief look at the city centre on that oddest of days.

To be frank: it was appalling.

We live in a Green Zone on the edge of the Orange and Red Zones. But I walked out the door at 10am and into a ghost town. Even the tram hub - normally a bustling centre of activity - was deserted. A few businesses were open to the 1% of usual custom that they would have. Many of them, open or not, were boarded over in anticipation of violence.

The tram hub, 10am, Friday, April 3

To get to the buses that took us to the meeting, you needed to take a tram. But to take a tram, you needed to get to one. And the tram line had been cut off on the outskirts of the Orange Zone. To get to the next operational tram, you had to walk the perimeter of the red zone. It didn't look like the hour I'd given myself for this ten-minute-on-a-normaI-day-trip was gong to be enough, so I explained my predicament to one checkpoint officer, who sent me along the perimeter to the next checkpoint...

(1) the first checkpoint (2) the second checkpoint (3) view from the edge of the perimeter

...and so on down the line, until one of them took pity upon me, saying with a smile that made me think he was kidding, "This is your door in." I really did think he was joking, and he could see it, so he smiled a smidgen of a bit more broadly and said, "The door is open," and ushered me through.

My door in...

It was an odd feeling, walking through this barricade. I knew this was the only chance I'd have to get this far, since I had no pass, only this ticket for an official event that would effectively expire at 11am. There were so many things to photograph, but I was in a hurry. Silly me. I'll regret having given up some of those photo opportunities for the rest of my life.

One instance, among many: A little old lady walked up to a gendarme, standing erect against a lightpole. She was worried, because she'd been told that access to her front door would be impossible for the time being. Nobody had told her, when she left to do some shopping earlier, that this would be the case. She had medications to take... As I listened in on the conversation, hurrying to catch the last tram that would take me to my destination, I glanced down a side street and saw six enormous armoured vehicles, blocking any passage at all down that street (more like an alleyway, actually). I was reminded again of a scene I'd witnessed in Derry so many years ago. A hollow feeling came over me. How easy it is for authority to be misguided, misused and destructive. How easy it is for a population to be frightened into submission.

(1) at one of the tram barricades, three mail carriers come up against yet another problem (2) while a group of journalists? delegates? waits in vain for a tram that will never come (3) and the only vehicles for another kilometre go whizzing by...

I made it to the "town hall meeting." It was held, not in anything like a town hall, but in a sports centre in a Red Zone. After alighting from our buses, we were curiously corraled into a hall on the other side of the road. Nobody seemed to know why or for how long, least of all the organisers. So after a while, we just walked out and across the street. Some security, but not too much, since camcorders and bags had been strictly forbidden, and this was the third or fourth stage of security. Once in, we tried to find decent seats, but there were too few of them, and we certainly weren't the first in there, so... In the end, most people were either too far away to see Barack Obama, or they were sitting directly behind him, and only got a glimpse or two of The Man. His speech was good, but after a while, he came to the question of economics and responsibility, and once again, I was reminded of who had brought him here, and at what phenomenal, unbelievable cost. And for what?

A photo opportunity. A symbol.

The violation of basic democratic rights that most of the protesters were here to bring attention to is bad enough. But the thing that has bothered me the most throughout these strange couple of weeks is this: Above and beyond the above-mentioned lack of respect and the unbelievable mess that this has created for many people, none of whom were consulted as to the eventual use of their home town as a stage / military parade grounds / photographic backdrop, there is (I repeat) the phenomenal, unbelievable amount of money that was spent. Hundreds of millions of Euros. Hundreds of millions. For a symbolic photo opportunity.

When the world is experiencing an enormous economic crisis, when millions are still dying of disease and starvation, when millions still lack even the most rudimentary of education, an international organisation's leaders are telling us that "we've just emerged from an era marked by irresponsibility," and spending hundreds of millions of euros to say so, take a few pictures, and move on out to prepare for the next photo op.

Looking at those two days of Sumptuous Summit for Some from another few angles: During those 24 hours, approximately 16,000 people died of AIDS; 80,000 people died of starvation; and more than 100 million children continued to lack access to any form of schooling.

I'm just sayin'.

Oh, and while I'm at it:

When I finally got back from the sojourn to see my president, Jean-Philippe (who had a pass, remember) picked up the camera and flew out the door to see what he could see. At one point, just after taking a superbe photo at one of the checkpoints, a policeman accosted him, getting extremely red in the face, and threatening to take him to jail if he didn't erase the photo. As you can probably imagine, none of Jean-Philippe's protests for his rights (he'd checked on this beforehand, of course) had any postitive effect on the man, who simply got redder in the face, and much more threatening. So the photo was erased. My, "What could he have really done, had you just turned around and walked away?" was answered with, "Anything he wanted to."

Gotcha.

We heard a lot of grandiose talk about democracy this weekend. But one has to wonder where democracy goes at times like this.

Funny Episode #8,752,324

2009-03-05T15:06:00.006+01:00

I have often wondered about what constitutes "weird." My friend Amy and I used to say, "You're weird! That's a compliment!" as though it were another way of saying, "Hello!" And my Color 101 teacher once looked at me and paused before beginning her answer to whatever query or comment I'd made with, "You are one weird kid, Jennifer." She went on to explain that this was a compliment - and to be honest, that was how I'd taken it. But still... Though I don't remember what exactly we were talking about when she said that, I do remember thinking, "What was so weird about that?"

And now I'm the mom of twin five-year-old whippersnappers. But another W-word comes to mind often, when confronted with their questions, responses, stories and, well... this kind of thing:

And please believe me, it is no coincidence that there are two oranges in two different, though identical containers with two 'name tags' on them next to the piece of paper with the boys' names and two arrows. No, this was a carefully constructed piece of conceptual art. And the artist made sure that he knew what was written on the 'name tags' before he decided which one was him and which was his brother. Leo thought that Pamela was a beautiful name, and so his brother inevitably got taged with 'Bio' (Eng = 'Organic').

We are reading James and the Giant Peach, now. A few chapters at a time. I let them watch the movie before we read it together, because I wanted to be sure that they understood the story, so that we could work on their English at the same time. I am learning to be sneaky about 'teaching' them English. They don't like for their parents to be their teachers, it seems. So sneaky I must be. Anyway. We spent a lot of time on the question of what happened to his parents and why. They were truly terrified at this part of the movie, and we ended up spending about an hour and a half on those few lines in the book. But what gets me is how utterly accepting they are of the absurdity of the story - how much they LOVE the absurdity, in fact. They laughed so hard at (our reading of) the Earthworm's shark shouts and so on, that I thought they would pee their pants!

Which reminds me of the Story of Peas. But that'll have to wait for the next blog post, because we're about to leave to go hiking... Ciao for now, and a happy weekend to you and yours!

Oh My, Valentines!

2009-02-15T20:00:00.002+01:00

Okay, so my Aunt Peggy's scored big on the boys' list. Big-big-BIG. A small package with big punch arrived late last week, and the boys opened it to find everything their little hearts could desire: candies, talking-giggling Valentine's Day cards, and... POKÉMON CARDS! It was a very happy end to an otherwise grey day.

BIG THANKS to Aunt Peggy from the boys! What a great surprise!

The pictures from the past few weeks haven't turned out so well, but above are a couple from that evening. (Leo was not happy that he was covered a bit in the last one, but it was the last on the memory card, and I think it's funny, so...) They spent the whole evening "playing" Pokécards. I was laid out on the couch with the stomach flu, so they brought the game over to me, and explained their take on all of the new cards. It was a lot of silly-happy-little-boy fun.

On the actual Day, we all woke up at pretty much the same time. The boys came in to wake us up, and did some silly-happy-little-boy moves on, over and under our covers and legs and torsos and so on. Until suddenly: up jumped Jean-Philippe, and trailed the little ones behind him. A few minutes later, I galumped up, myself, and followed them into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewing coffee leading the way. It took me a drowsy minute to get it, but when I did, I saw that the house had been covered in Post-It notes. A home-sized Valentines Day card!

That wasn't the end of the celebrations, though! A big, afternoon-long lunch had been planned with the family to celebrate Pépé's 70-something-st birthday. The big 'uns ate and drank too well, as always. And the cousins showed off silly-happy-little-kid-tricks to one another and glued themselves to cartoons, not really showing themselves at the dinner table until somebody mentioned "cake"... ho! ho! Needless to say, we rolled our way home afterwards...

We Sick

2009-02-12T13:49:00.008+01:00

The boys, several days ago, in the midst of several artistic and otherwise ventures. Leo wrote 'Tomi' with the blocks, and Tomi said, "Thank you, Leo! That's so cool! I like the way you did that!"

It's been a rough week. First my computer went down, thanks to a download that went awry. Then I got the stomach flu. Then Leo got the stomach flu. And my flu persists, despite yesterday's optimism about the subject. And I think Tomi's coming down with it, too. But he seemed alright this morning. So he's at school; Leo's in bed (after having watched Jungle Emperor and Over the Hedge); I'm huddled over my work with cramps and worry; and Jean-Philippe's peddling my theatre ticket off to friends and hoping for the best. Ugh.

There have been some bright spots on this greyish day, though.

First, there was sleepy little Leo's wake-up twittering.

"Mom! Wake up! Then we can be the first ones up, after Daddy! I'm the first one up! I'm never the first one up!"

Then there was our sweet little Tomi's chirruping, as he got ready to go to school. He was extra chirrupy today. And chirrupy on a school day is rare enough; but when one of them knows that the OTHER is going to stay home from school?! Never. Until this morning, that is.

And then, as Leo sat out a bout of you-know-what on the toilet, I suggested I read him a book.

Leo "No, I have lots of stories. I will tell you a story!"

Mom (settling down on the bathroom floor) "Great! I love your stories!"

Leo "Hm. Let's see. There are so many! Which one would you like?"

Mom "How about if you choose?"

Leo "Okay, I will tell you the story about the snowball who went to the sea."

Mom "Great!"

Leo "Uhm... Okay, but there are some 'bad words' in the story."

Mom (raising her eyebrows a bit, and not a little intrigued) "Well... If they're a part of the story, you can tell the story anyway, and we'll talk about the bad word parts afterwards."

Leo "... No, I will tell you another story. There are lots of stories without bad words. How about... The Mouth Who Couldn't Find Its Body?"

Mom "Sounds like a great one!"

Leo "Okay, but how about if you tell it?"

Mom "Alright. But you can help me, okay?"

Leo "Okay."

And so we began. And a pretty good story we came up with, too!

Bubbles & Weenies

2009-02-03T09:28:00.009+01:00

Tomi & Leo, preparing for a walk - Wormy has been lost again, so Goo-Goo and Ennen Cat have been extra-cuddled of late...

Even on the tired days of falling eyelids and fizzling nerves, all it takes these days is a giggled phrase or a soft, caring look and a wee hand on the shoulder from one of our boys to take away the sting of the day and send us into la-la land. They bubble, they glow, they let us know every day, in one way or another, that we couldn't have done without them.

The other day, for example:
It was a cold, grey Sunday. But the four of us were utterly content all day, separately and together, doing this and that and the other thing. Mid-afternoon, Jean-Philippe and the boys were bundling up to go outside and kick the ball around. I was zipping up Tomi's jacket, when Leo zoomed by, crying out, "I'M THE PEE-PEE! GOING SO FAST! WHO'S ON MY TEAM?!" Tomi laughed and said, "I'm the caca*! Go-ing-rea-lly-slo-o-ow!" But there was still the question of teams. We all changed teams several times before the family's male contingent got out the door. There was a brief moment of genial ganging up. I think I ended up being on Leo's pee-pee team, though. Not that he noticed. He was too busy zooming out the door and down the steps to the makeshift soccer field, below. I could hear them screeching with delight for the next hour or so, as the bread baked and was brought out, and the Leftovers Soup bubbled away...

p.s. The day was brought to a lovely close with the impromptu visit of a couple of friends, followed by a not-so-good concert (Of Montreal) and a friendly debate (with the friends who weren't enjoying it, and followed me out to the bar for some fresh air - heh! heh!), concerning what, exactly, it was that we didn't like about it.

* caca = poop

A Disasters Emergency Committee (DEC) Appeal

2009-01-27T12:09:00.006+01:00

For those of you living in the United States, I know that it is hard to get past the religiously-saturated political quagmire, and in fact much easier to avoid the subject of the conflict in Gaza altogether. I hope that you will watch this appeal, though, and give the conflict some thought from another angle or two...

Waking Up, Smelling the Coffee

2009-01-22T10:51:00.017+01:00

fyi - pictures have nothing to do with the text

We woke up on Inauguration Day to the usual radio voices. Or rather, we were waking up to them, when I heard a voice chirrup from the boys' room, "They said, 'Barack Obama!'" and then, "They said, 'Barack Obama' again!" and then, "Oh! They said it again!" And then another wee voice piped up, "Why-y-y?" And the first one answered, "Because he's The Good Guy!"

Later that evening (Washington, DC time + 6 hours), we settled into the couch with apples and oranges and lots of blankets, and I pleaded with the boys to keep their questions to a minimum and low-pitched until the end, so's I could hear the voices on the TV. They complied the best they could. And they spontaneously held my hands and cuddled close. At one point, one boy raised his hand. I called on him, and he leaned in and whispered, "Mommy?! They're talking at the same time as Barack Obama! I can't hear him!" The translator's wishy-washy, loud job was bothering him, too! ha! ha! (continued below...)

smoking at the diner - thanks, Disney

(continued from above...) Then the other boy stood up and said, "Can you pause it? I have to pee-pee!" My boys aren't used to watching TV (though they do watch movies, and with gusto). Later, when a visibly moved Bernard Kouchner spoke about his impressions of the day's events, the boys asked, "Can he see us?" At first I was a bit flummoxed, but then I realised that they've only really ever watched stories, and not actual events or people answering questions from off-screen. It was funny; made me think of the scene in O Sullivan's Twenty Years A-Growing, when he's arrived in Dublin, and his friend takes him to the pictures. (Oh my gosh. I just found it on the internet. If you're interested, click here.)

But back to Washington, DC and Strasbourg, France, on the 20th of January, 2009. The boys and their mom are still in front of the TV, watching an extraordinary, historical moment unfold before their eyes. And at the end, when the Obamas and Bidens were standing on the tarmac and waving, one boy knit his brow and held up his palms, asking, " "Why are they waving?" I explained. He asked, "Why are they doing that for so long? They can go now! The other guy, he's a BAD GUY! [And] he's GONE!" I had to cede the point. But was forced to explain the idea of decorum, nonetheless.

I am so relieved. But still, of course, anxious to see how things pan out... Eek!

2009-01-12T00:01:00.000+01:00

Happiness, Health and a Warm Hearth

2009-01-04T13:23:00.016+01:00

All of the above to all of you from all of us -- though if you're living somewhere warm, we wish you a variation on the theme; say... an Iced Drink?

We rang in the newest year high up in the Vosges with our beloved parents/grandparents/parents-in-law, seeing the old year out with a hike into the heights and the snow; a round of Riesling and pie wedges in a chalet way up thar (not pictured below); a walk back down through the mountain's layers of snowflakes, then snowdrops, then rolling fog; a well-earned return to the warmth of the farmstead; a light and luscious meal; a dance to the lively music the radio's classical station offered us up, and which Tomi inspired us all to take up on; the crémants we'd got at the organic winemaker's in Andlau the day before; and (also not pictured below) a bouquet of fireworks as the fog closed in at midnight, turning the last page of another year's chapter in our lives.

Here are a few images from the above-described last day of the year:

"It's Our Happy Birthday!"

2008-11-28T23:59:00.016+01:00

Okay, so I'm cheating, and the date posted is not the date posted. But (as you may have gathered from the lack of information on these pages) things haven't slowed down 'round here. In many ways, they've most definately sped up. The only thing that's stayed the same is the march of time. It seems that whether or not I agree with the speed it travels, it keeps marching steadily on. Which brings me to the point, which is:

And Now They Are Five

And what brilliant, witty, beautiful little whippersnappers they have become in these past five years. If I had the time to make a list of proofs to back up my assertions, I would. But I don't even have the time to blog about it all from time to time, so... I'm sorry, but you'll just have to believe me.

Here they are on their last day as 4-year-olds, crossing off the 27th on the countdown calendar their papa made for them, after countless questions and conversations about how long it was until their "Happy Birthday". It was hilariously cute to watch them get so into this. They tried cheating! (she shakes her head)

Here is my utterly ingenious invention, in order that Jean-Philippe be able to carry six carrot cake-breads (we had to feed 55!) with frosting to school - and get them there in relatively good shape. Grabbed the boxes from the organic store around the corner, and we were set! The box without handles fit snugly in over the deeper one, which did have handles. No trouble with slipping, sliding, balance or smushing! I won't even begin to tell you about the day I spent baking... Okay, no: I will. It started with pumpkin muffins. But 24 muffins took 4 hours. And NONE OF THEM ROSE more than a centimetre or so. Ugh. So carrot cake-bread it was. Eight in four hours. And they don't look like much (especially since six of them also refused to rise, and since I realised at 10pm that we didn't have enough powdered sugar for a proper topping...), but they were delicious! Unfortunately, I start work early on Friday, so I couldn't help with the delivery. But hey! I think I did more than my share, don't you? Heh! heh!

So. Since I am the unofficial family photographer, and since I'm like a lot of bloggers, and find it much easier to post pictures of those around me than those of myself, there are relatively few photographs of me in existence in our collection or even on our blog. The other day, though, I had to make myself an i.d. photo. So I monkeyed around with the camera for a while, trying to get something worthwhile. The next day was the boys' birthday, and by some twist of thought that started with the monkey business, I decided to start a tradition for them by which I would get a morning and an evening picture of each of their parents on or around their birthday each year. I hope they appreciate this. It was fun, but I'm not sure how happy I'll be in twenty years to see the change that has inexorably come over us. Anyway, here's me - their mom - early in the morning and later in the evening of the 28th November 2008 (and that's my beloved mug):

It was a whirlwind birthday weekend, what with work-as-unusual (as in, more than usual), combined with the school cakes to prepare; a dinner on B-Day with their mémé & pépé; the Pirates and Mermaids birthday party with school buddies on Saturday (what a blast!); a school buddy's birthday party on Sunday morning (?!); followed by a long afternoon-into-the-evening with good friends, two of whom announced that they are getting married next August! We were so tired on Monday morning (happily, but still...!) that when the alarm went off, we parents both simply integrated it into our dreams and got another forty minutes' sleep. Gulp! It wasn't the best way to start a school day... (But it was well worth it!)

A Most Incredible Moment

2008-11-05T10:09:00.003+01:00

We tried to pull an all-nighter, but I lost the battle with my eyelids at around 3am (Chicago time + 7).

At 7:40 the radio woke us up, blaring the news: "BARACK OBAMA, 44ème PRÉSIDENT DES ÉTATS-UNIS!"

My eyes filled with tears of joy, relief, hope - they keep filling, again and again.

And talk about a moving speech. When I caught a glimpse of the Rev Jesse Jackson's tearful gaze, I nearly burst into sobs.

The end of one of the worst errors in recent American history is finally at hand, and we can - finally - start the massive work of repairing the damage done over the past eight years (and then some, since alot of the damage was given its start well before the worst of it).

Of note:
Fellow blogger Betsy and I both noticed a telling detail in the course of the speeches given by the two candidates last night. When McCain mentioned Obama, booing followed; whereas when Obama mentioned McCain, there was clapping. I'm sure at least 53% of you will draw the same conclusions that we did.

Circus Boys' Dreams

2008-10-31T15:30:00.009+01:00

Above are our Circus Boys, on their last day of circus classes. Tomi in particular had been dreaming of joining the circus ever since his first sighting of nouveau cirque. There are five vacation cycles in France, starting with ten days around All Saints Day, so we filled the first week with a circus initiation for 5-7 year olds which was brilliant (and which had a secondary effect of conking three of the four of us out at hours which this family has never before seen). By the way, Tomi is walking backwards on the low beam, there. Funny, the things we take for granted when we're older. It was really touching to watch them all "try, try, try, and try it again" - and also stunning to watch them come up with some of their ideas, when they were working in groups or pairs. Kids are absolutely amazing.

Ah, and speaking of boys and dreams:

Ours began understanding the difference between dreams and reality a bit later than some, from the stories we've heard tell. But recently, they've been really into their dreams, and telling us about them. Sometimes, I suspect that they're telling us what they would have dreamed of, if they'd have had the choice. The other morning, though, I swished into their room just as Tomi woke up with a giggly laugh, saying, "Mmmm!" and then, as he came to, he mumbled, happily, "I was dreaming of chocolate!" There was a satisfied pause, and then, from the other bed, a happy little voice chirruped, "C'était quoi comme chocolat?! (What kind of chocolate was it?!)" and when Tomi didn't answer immediately, Leo said, "It was with milk in it? An' nuts?" Tomi never really did answer the question, nor did he have the time, because the idea of hot chocolate had already taken ahold of him, with the mention of a milk & chocolate combination. Suddenly, two little chocolate hounds were sprinting for the kitchen...

And then, this morning, I was in the bathroom when I heard the boys' door slowly creak open. I looked around the corner and saw a half-sleeping little Tomi, peeking out and saying, "Papa? Tu es là? Parce que je t'aime (Papa? Are you there? Because I love you)." I think he thought I was his daddy, so I said, softly, "Papa's in bed. You can go tell him..." He hugged me and whispered, "I dreamed of Daddy, and I wanted to tell him I love him." But by then, he was waking out of his dream-state, and got entangled in embarrassment, and never got around to telling his papa about it.

A Cartoon Lightbulb

2008-10-21T10:49:00.011+02:00

Leo is sick, so he got to stay home today. As he was lounging in bed and his brother and papa were getting ready to head off to school, I started to explain to him how the day was going to proceed, starting with the fact that I was going to take a bath and wash my hair. This is the conversation that followed...

Leo: Why do you have to wash your hair?

Mom: Because it's dirty.

Leo: Why is it dirty?

Mom: (explains as best she can)

Leo: Why don't I have to wash my hair?

Mom: Because yours isn't dirty.

Leo: Why?

Mom: Well, little kids' hair doesn't get dirty as quickly as adults' hair does.

Leo: Why?

Mom: Good question. Yet another that I'll have to look up, later. In any case, your hair doesn't get dirty as quickly as mine does. You can wash yours less often than I do.

Leo: What is "less often"?

Mom: "Not as often"? ..."Not so much"? ..."Not as many times"? ..."A little bit - not alot"? For instance: you can do something alot, or just a little bit; you can do something often, or you can do it less often.

Leo: AH! (laughs with understanding and holds up one hand) "Ro-o-ock!... (holds up the other hand) Tree-ee-ee!..."

Those of you who have never watched The Iron Giant (1) should watch it and (2) may not get what just happened. What was really cool/funny was that Leo was clearly understanding that I was giving him an on-the-one-hand-versus-on-the-other-hand definition, and was delighted to have understood. And when the lightbulb flashed on, he immediately made the connection with the scene from The Iron Giant in which Hogarth is giving the giant his first English lesson. (Here is a page with some transcripts from the film, including this one, second from the last. The last one is actually the scene which taught the boys their first taunting/insulting phrase - another funny chapter in our family's book, which included yet another cool cartoon lightbulb.)

Blowing Kisses

2008-10-20T23:50:00.006+02:00

My dear, dear Gramma (a.k.a, the boys' dear, dear Great-Gramma) celebrates her 88th year as a spring chicken today!

We on this side of the Atlantic wish you a very happy one, Gram - and I add my thanks (many times over) for the 39 of those years during which you've been my Gramma. xoxo

p.s. I start every day with thoughts of you as I sip my hot coffee (though admittedly not as hot as you'd like it!) in my favourite mug - the green-grey loon mug that you gave me to replace the even loonier one that was broken in our first household-with-kids accident, several years ago. Since it's addition to our household, I've only extremely rarely drunk from another. More thanks for the mug, and for its attendant daily thoughts.

The pictures are from our trip to Como Park this summer. The best part, according to everybody who was there, was our ride at the end of the day on the beautifully restored merry-go-round, which Gramma remembers riding as a child. Tomi was adamant that his great-gramma ride one of the chariots with him, and held her hand tightly the whole way. The rest of us charged ahead, atop the steeds that carried them along, so to speak. A lovely end to a lovely day.

Good Times, Gain, Losing It & Loss

2008-10-13T09:38:00.007+02:00

(1) the casting of a most important vote* (2) the castaways at work together on their cushion raft (3) and the find of the weekend: four antique Louis-something chairs, for a song, one with the 'cast' for the cushions I'm going to make in order to prolong the life of their caning.

It was a very busy, very good weekend, filled with friends, old and new, and some quiet times so lovely that they took my breath away. It ended weirdly, spectacularly, with a bout of gastrointestinitis that made itself known to Tomi and the rest of us in the group as we waited for the train in Rosheim. Luckily, I had hurriedly stashed a pair of underwear and two plastic bags in with the rest of the junk in the backpack before we left. Even more luckily, our friend Alain had some wipeys, also for 'just in case.' And then, the weather was not only on our side, but brilliant. So the little sicky on his mother's lap in the train, wearing only a sweatshirt and undies (even the shoes and socks had to be bagged up!) wasn't too uncomfortable, after all. His mommy (ahem!) was wearing about 25 kilos of pumpkins and pumpkin beer on her back and 18 kilos of sick boy on her front, though, so she is still hurting from the exprience.**

And here is an article that went straight to my heart and head on several different levels. The compassion and caring for humanity that the various members of this family have shown - starting with their son and brother, Tom - is immense and uplifting; the thoughts and feelings shared, concerning loss and grief, are extremely well put; and the political parts are not only clear and concise, but serve to illustrate and as food for thought for so many other situations, political and otherwise.

* Please excuse the 'do.' The picture was taken before the bath was.

** His daddy can't do this any longer, because of a work-related back injury that would be all the more horrible if it were given any cause to flame back up.

A Pick from Last June

2008-10-09T15:47:00.006+02:00

I just realised that I had a good example of the boys' prowess scanned from last June. We had stopped by their mémé & pépé's place on the way out for tartes flambées, and pépé put a cartoon channel on for the boys. Crypton immediately caught all of their attention, making it hard to get back out and to our tartes and so on. But the up side of that part of the adventure was the drawings that the boys came up with later, while the adults chatted away over tartes and brews on the restaurant's terrace. These were the first things Leo came up with:

I have to admit that I'm feeling humbled by what is unfolding before my very eyes. And thrilled, too!

Another Few From the Peanut Gallery

2008-10-08T12:00:00.007+02:00

Our boys are difficult to pull away from their "workspace" in the corner of the living room. And their teachers tell us that things are the same at school. There is so much being produced that we honestly can't keep track of it all. I'm trying to devise ways, but the work piles up faster than I can tag and file it away, or send it to those for whom it was made, or simply get it up on their art string (just above their workspace).

The pieces above and below are among the squillions of things that made me laugh or brought a tear of parental sentimentality or pride or both in the past couple of days, plus the birthday card Tomi spontaneously made for me, after their daddy told the boys that the next day was my birthday, and so on. There was a funny moment at the beginning of the conversation, when Jean-Philippe said, "Demain, c'est l'anniversaire de..."* and Leo yelped, "De NOUS!" When JPhi said, "Non, de maman!" Leo's face crumpled and he wailed, "NO-o-o-o-o-o-o-ON!" Within a minute or two, though, the boys were as excited as though it were their own birthday. Pfew! Anyway, it was impossible to choose from the piles and piles - it quite honestly made me exhausted just thinking of doing so - so I simply scanned the first things I laid my eyes on in MY workspace (whence the boys' insistence on calling their art table "ower work. space" (= our workspace)).

by Leo > from left to right > Tomi, Mommy, Leo & Daddy

by Tomi > a psychedelic skyful

by Leo > a Pokémon cat with hearts representing the four (nuclear) family members, subsequently cut out with a pair of poor kiddie scissors (the boys are looking forward very much to their first pair of real scissors).

* "Tomorrow is guess-who's birthday?" "OUR birthday!" "No, it's mommy's!" "NO-o-o-o-o-O!"

Highly Suggested Watching

2008-10-07T12:05:00.000+02:00

Happy Birthday to Me!

2008-09-24T11:13:00.016+02:00

What a gorgeously autumnal, delicious, hilarious and generally fantastic day - and well into the night.

A few words and pictures to illustrate the point:

A scene from the end of a long, lovely, languorous lunch at... (drum roll...) the Buerehiesel - !! - during which we thought often of Ellen and Donnie, and which was followed by a walk in the park that merited the same and other, similar adjectives.

the poster reads: A mother, a patriot, a warrior: Jenny! A president!

We were walking home from a movie (which was Made in Strasbourg, and in which the voices of our children can be distinctly heard at the very end - it's true!), knowing that Anne-Sophie and Caroline's offer to babysit while we took it in was not without diabolical plans galore. But we were still shocked when, as we neared our home, we began seeing the Jenny for President and I (heart) Jean-Philippe posters. The posse that awaited us was full of hilarity, there was more good food - this time grilled out (on the terrace), North American style - plus Gallo wines, and a putsch, to boot! Great friends, great times.

p.s. JPhi and I were too busy having fun to take more than the pictures you see here. A few Very Important Friends are conspcuously missing in this compilation, a fact for which I apologize profusely. I'm going to have to ask the official photographer for a CD of his pile and a half of images and films...

A young cowboy with a heart of gold and a spatula of stainless steel.

Marion is not amused.

BBQ-ing before, during and after.

(1) the propoganda posse, cranking out posters for (2) the putsch. Little whippersnappers!

Green Post 01

2008-09-20T13:58:00.001+02:00

This just in - a bit of sunshine for a greener, better life!

Interlude: Dilly-Dally-ing (2/4)

2008-09-14T12:00:00.000+02:00

above Sweet moments from the day of Dally's arrival.

above and below Sweet moments from the day after Dally's arrival, with a wink in Amber's direction and alot of fun in the sun. The second picture is of Tomikins' explanation of where he got bruised on one of his ways down that slide.* Wasn't half bad enough to keep him from going straight back up the ladder, though!

above An evening out with friends, including a "before" shot of David H's hair (see 4/4 for the "after" shot, whenever I actually manage to get that post up) and a look at the evening sky (which was much more impressive in real life, believe me).

above One of my wee artists at work, and another of his works.

* When we were home for Xmas, we went sledding at my old elementary school, on the hill behind this slide. The weather had turned funny the night before, and a good half of the tons of snow had turned to ice, making sledding quite the feat. At one point, Leo took advantage of our inattention, and bolted over to the slide and up the ladder. Once atop, he wasn't sure what to do. It was a long way back down, either way, and the ladder seemed like the least sure of the two ways, what with all of the ice that had accumulated the night before. So Jean-Philippe hunched down at the bottom of the slide and coaxed him down that way. But there was ice in the slide, as well, and when the kid-torpedo came flying towards him, there was nothing to do but back off - and watch the missile shoot another fifty feet along the icy ground, to an eventual halt. The beached baby whale that we collected in our arms had his eyes wide-wide open, and only this to say: "Ahch!"

Stone Soup and Dandelions*

2008-09-03T23:08:00.020+02:00

Above: cute First Day of School pics
Below: yegads! Circuitous sentences galore!

I actually sent some of this to one of the people concerned, but then thought a part of it worth another oblique post - and so here it is, another post posted before I finish our Summer, the Io-Way blogging:

In the past few days, I'd been thinking so much of two people, both of whom are suffering from kidney inflictions (and the one of whom I know, in a way, through the other's family blog. Just to make things even more fraught with obliquity. They know who they are, though, and that's what matters)... Anyway, I was thinking so much of them that I managed to convince myself yesterday evening that I was developing another kidney infection, myself (like the one I'd had about ten years ago, thanks to a drunken doctor - no joke! - who gave me the wrong meds. Long, weird, painful story). Those fears didn't stop me from taking the boys out for sushi last night, though. (They asked!**) And by the time we'd gotten home, I'd reverse-convinced myself that the pain was really due to the way I'd been sitting at the drawing board all day. (Fingers crossed, knuckles rapping on wood...)

Anyway... it was kind of weird. I kept alternating between wondering how we'd do things for the next few days, and wondering how in the world all of them had been doing it over the past few days. And breathing in deeply, breathing out...

* Again: oblique. But once it had been thought up, it was staying up. My apologies.

** The boys were watching a Japanese animated series called Kié on the evening of the day before the first day of school (whew! That was a long-winded beginning to break the records the sentences above had already set, eh?), and began pleading with their daddy to be given the skewered meats and makizushi that Kié delights in for their supper. And so - and especially because I was already feeling rotten for not having prepared something special for their first-day-of-school breakfast, well... We broke down and took them around the corner last night, to the Mikado. They had a good time, though they were utterly exasperated by the the fact that they couldn't manipulate their hashi, and Leo wasn't into the fish makizushi at all. Tomi, on the other hand, ate his share, and a good half of my lovely seared tuna dish, as well. Oh, and as some of you know, the best way to keep our boys happy and busy at a restaurant is to bring along the drawing supplies. And as those some of you will probably already have guessed, the boys spent half of the time at the Mikado drawing - what? - Pokémon figures and scenes. Ô-yé!

Heigh-ho! (1/4)

2008-08-31T12:00:00.018+02:00

At long last! A few (ermm...) photos and a few more words from our WONDERFUL almost-five-weeks in and up north of Iowa City. Thus begins the first of a four part series:

(1) saying, "See you in a week!" to dear Dally (2) interim airport antics and (3) the thundercloud that awaited us at our final destination (and presaged a beautiful summer storm, as well as the temporary extinction and fabulous rekindling of the glowworms' lanterns. So beautiful. So summer in Iowa)

(1) among other things, the arrows Tomi set down to show monsters the way away from Gramma and Grampa's house (2) a very common scene for five weeks (3) just before the melt down over Dove bars (which was obviously due to jet lag, but still... I will never hear Leo say, "Schokoladen!" with the same thrill of mama-ly pride again) and
(4) bunnies watching bunnies nibbling

(1) the children's corner of the Iowa City Farmers Market from above (2) a close-up of one of the children at the children's corner of the ICFM and (3) a couple of the fantastic performers we saw each time we sat down to rest on the edge of the market. The ambiance at this market is almost too good to be true. I've never felt anything quite like it!

(1) my friend Jean and her two fabulous beans (2) G&G and two sweety elves (3) a bit of the well-done pre-play that we were lucky enough to have caught, and (4) the eldest of the fabulous beans, showing us a mere speck of his climbing repertoir (he's an incredible climber - I've never seen anything like it)!

(1) bluegrass's best (2) snowbunnies with Gramma (3) Grampa with Leo-just-prior-to-wild-meltdown - many thanks again to jet lag, for that rare spectacle... and (4) Daves diggin' it (do people still say that, or has English-speaking life moved on, despite my absence?)

(1) this moment was too beautiful to pass up (2) three pixies take a two-second break from wild antics, and (3) peace and love

(1) the front yard and the blue-blue skies (2) a view of the lilies in one of the side gardens, and (3) a close-up of a lily in said side-garden

(1) a view from one of the side gardens (2) back garden with bean tee-pee, and (3) Gramma giving Monsanto a run for their money in her garden in the triangle

(1) a bunny and his Sunday comics (2) a bunny at Wallace Winery, reading his Pokémon cards as the adults drink in the fine Iowa wine (it's true!) and the beautiful folk music of Dave Moore, and (3) fellow bloggers and drinkers-in of the beauty

(1) a water sprite (2) another water sprite, and (3) the 2nd water sprite, sniffing the lilies

Those were but a very few of the moments (and the pictures thereof) that we so happily spent in the first week of our Iowa, &cetera summer of 2008 vacation. As usual, a lot of great moments went unrecorded on film. And though I'd love to "talk" about it all, it's taken me so long to get this little bit up that for now, I'm going to have to leave it at that and move on to Part Two - the arrival of the papa. Please stay tuned. And in the meantime, big hugs to all of you who made this summer vacation so lovely for us. You know who you are...! xoxo

"Yes, you do!"

2008-08-27T22:12:00.017+02:00

So... I was picking out pictures for the Iowa, Etcetera post, the tardiness of which I am very ( x 583! ) sorry for (but I've hardly even read other people's blogs, much less had time for my own since our return (three weeks ago, now. Yikes). It was a harsh return to reality, I have to say. There was real life. And the anniversary of David's death. But there was also catching up with friends here. And so). So anyway, here we are, three weeks later. And before I actually post abut that wonderful ( x 835! ) time we had with Gamma-Gampa and the rest of the folks back home, I feel obliged (despite my promise NOT to blog about other things until our Iowa post was up) to mention one of the many little parents-and-their-boys conversations that has taken place in the past 21 days.
To wit:

Leo: Why (do bears like honey)?*
Mom: That's a good question, sweety. I really don't know. Remind me to look that one up, will you?
Leo: Yes, you do!
Mom: I do what?
Leo: Yes, you do know!
Mom: No, I really don't. I'm sorry, but...
Leo: Yes! You do!
Mom: No, I really don't! I'll try to find the answer for you, though.
Leo: But you know it!
Mom: No, I don't. Honestly!
Leo: YES, YOU DO! YOU KNOW IT!
Mom: (trying to surpress a laugh, but honestly flummoxed) Honey, why do you think I know the answer to this?
Leo: Because you are not little! You are a big girl! So you know things! You know all things!
Mom: Ahhh... (tries to explain, but has a lot of trouble, what with all the burgeoning laughter and all...)

*I think that that was the question. In any case, it really was the first question of theirs that I couldn't even begin to answer - a rare one for which I didn't even have a that'll-do-for-now or facetious kind of response. I was so thrilled by the astute nature of the request and the back-and-forth that followed, though, that the initial question may have gone out the window, and been replaced by this sozi. Ah, well!

p.s. The pic's from a couple days after our return. Leo had a time out, and when I came to release him from his bonds, that was what I found. These boys make me laugh and laugh - often, in spite of myself.

Hellos & G'byes

2008-07-06T18:14:00.014+02:00

Well, we ended the first third of our summer at Fred and Caroline's, making, cutting and eating delicious tarte flambées (baked in the beautiful outdoor oven that Fred made by hand with heart) and drinking various concoctions. Another happy time with people we love...

And now! We're about to head off for (the second third of) a summer in the happiness, heat and humidity of ye aulde homestead. We are so looking forward to this...!

p.s. Advanced apologies for the correspondence that will have to be put on hold until the end of summer. I'm sure it (this correspondence problem, I mean) can only get better in the coming school year. Can't it?

Waltz with Bashir (Ari Folman)

2008-07-01T22:00:00.000+02:00

First, the trailer, to provoke instant interest:

And then an interview with Ari Folman:

My own critique can be found here in both French and English.

In any case, I have rarely been so moved - I'd go so far as to say devastated - by a film, animation or otherwise. If it comes to a theatre near you, you know where I suggest you spend your next cinematic hour and a half, eh?

I am the Radio!*

2008-06-30T10:14:00.035+02:00

Or: My Friend Jean! (And one of my sons, rather jealous of the attention, the mask, and the drinks that MFJ was receiving - heh! heh!)

So. I've been trying for ages and by all means possible (including, of course, friendly but unrelenting harrassment) to get My Friend Jean to get herself (and her boys) over here. And then, one fine day not long ago, it all began pulling itself together! (The boys couldn't come this time, but as you may well imagine, we're already working on that for the next time...)

And it was one helluva big, long, too-short, joyful, teary, catch-up, moutarde, sleep-over, sally forth, eat up, drink down, silly willy, tongue twisting time all the way from the first to the last of the hugs and a sad sayonara. The only thing that made her leaving again bearable was knowing that we'd be saying "Hiya!" to her and her boys in just a few days, on the other side of the Big Pond.

Here are a few pics from the five-and-a-half days we all spent together, starting with some from the huge "do" that Jean-Philippe organised at Arte for the end of the "school year". It was a fantastic party, made all the more so by the artistic intervention that (he and) a group of eight artists - otherwise known as Interim - put on during the week that preceded the party, and which culminated on that night. As you can probably tell from the images below, we had a great night. And the artists' work was truly spectacular. So, for that matter, was the musical intervention of our favourite DJ-ing duo. And the food. And the drink. And the... You get the picture.

1) Jean-Philippe being interviewed 2) the hellivator 3) two women in the talking toilets

1) artist-cum-tour-guide 2) way-swank work 3) artist-cum-interventionist

1) I want that little orange television set! 2) the coolest sortie ever 3) My Friend Soapy (don't be fooled: behind all that fur is a heart of gold!)

1) Dirty DJs 2) Dirty Dancing vol. i 3) Dirty Dancing vol. ii 4) Dirty... oops! Sorry.

1) a strange little sign on the door of a strange little craft store in Barr 2) four strangers in the doorway of a dilapidated church 3) three of the four strangers looking at a strange beetle, about equidistant from the strange sign and the dilapidated doorway

1) Tomi's first attempts at self-portraits (and when he was looking through the pics with me later, he saw the belly shot and said, "Oh! Je l'ai raté, cette photo de moi (Oh! I screwed up that photo of me)!" just as I was saying, "Oh! Great shot of dolphins jumping!" He looked at me sideways and smiled, knowingly, but not without a bit of extra pride, anyway... sigh... My little bunny...) 2) a work of art co-authored by Jean and Tomi (who had seen Jean working on the side panels of a paper airplane Leo had made for her, and was so impatient for her to do the side panels on HIS plane, that he hijacked her job of writing the plane's name, before pleading with her to draw a caterpillar (to start with)

1) Phone Tag 2) Name Tag (ah! Serendipity!) 3) À la carte : Canard à la Jean's last meal in Alsace, accompanied by an array of assays and one sure thing: good aulde Alsatian Pinot Noir. Mmmm...

1) snif! 2) What we both saw when we returned home that day (me from dropping Jean off at the train station and Jean when she landed in CR/IC airport and drove through the saturated lands surrounding our home town... yikes).

Just a couple of minutes after dropping Jean off, I walked in the front door to see JPhi and the boys sitting down to breakfast in the kitchen. Tomi asked where Jean was, and I explained. A very-VERY sad look came over both boys, and Leo made a cry of pathetic indignation. Tomi told me that made him very sad, and that that was why he was so sad the night before (when I went in to kiss them good-night, after she'd read to them and they understood that she was leaving in the morning). We talked about this, and about the fact that we were going to see her in a couple of weeks, and the excitement that this idea instilled helped a bit. And then, all day, there were these funny coincidences. For instance: I showed them a few movies from when they were smaller (which even I hadn't seen since they'd been taken), and at the end of one, someone behind the camera yelled "JEA--!" just as the film was cut. The boys both screamed with delight, "JEAN! JEAN!" then looked to see where she was on the screen, and were confused at first that she wasn't there - and then kind of pissed off. We had to have the conversation about seeing Jean in a couple of weeks again... And again...

In other words, and if it weren't already patently obvious:

We all miss Jean.

* Don't you just hate inside jokes?

Bananas & Breadsticks

2008-06-11T11:43:00.004+02:00

Mom: Keep going! Can you make it spin, like you were?

Leo: Pour quoi tu fais ça? (Why are you doing that?) Parce qu'il faut faire des *bananas*? (Because we need to do (use) the bananas?)

Tomi: No-o-on, on va pas faire des *bananas*, on va faire *breadstick(s)*. (No-o-o, we're not doing bananas, we're going to make breadsticks.)

It made me laugh to hear that when Tomi uses the word "breadsticks" in a French sentence, he doesn't pronounce the "s" at the end (though they both do with the word "bananas").

Just fyi, we had talked about the possibility of making banana bread, too, and if you knew where we keep the fruit basket, you could see Leo looking briefly over to be sure the bananas are still there.

p.s. Sorry about the quality. It's my first time reducing the size of a home movie for You Tube...

All's... well?

2008-06-09T09:01:00.013+02:00

So, they insert a tube in your arm and a sponge in your nose, and you have exactly enough time to think, "I should be asleep in no time," before... You're waking up, all warm and snug on your operating table. They give you a nice breakfast and hand you a piece of paper with a diagram of your insides and room for commentary and say, "These are your results. The doctor wll be in shortly to discuss them with you." You look at the paper. Your face must be as blank as the paper, because the receptionist repeats, kindly, "The doctor will be in shortly..." You sit down and examine the paper, and are no closer to an end of confusion when the doctor whisks brightly around the corner and says, "Great news! There's nothing in there at all!" And although the witticism is not entirely lost on you, you are nonetheless not entirely reassured, because... Well, because the pain! Where is this pain coming from, if not your intestines?! And when your gastro-intestinal, your gynecological and your endocrinological doctors were all so certain that the answer had to be found there, to boot? (My gynecologist had murmured something while she was examining the X-rays ten days ago, and all I caught was, "...Crohn's disease...?")

So. All's well on the one hand. But on the other... Well, there is hope, in that there is a possibility that if I take "the pill" again, all will be well for real. But that's another story, and a bit complicated (and no, it doesn't, strictly speaking, have to do with PMS), so I'll just tell you if and when it works, and spare you the technical blinkety-blonk for now. Especially since it might not work, anyhow. Ve shall see...

And many, many thanks ( !! ) to all of you lovelies out there, near and far, for your words of encouragement. Kind words certainly help to put fear in its place...

2008-06-05T09:10:00.025+02:00

I'm going in for a bit of general anesthetic and groping around my insides tomorrow morning, and it has me feeling slightly freaked out. Felt like crying this morning. Ugh. It occured to me, though, that although it was frightening to think of what I / they would lose, in the event of a calamity or even of a poor prognosis, it has also made me realise once again how very much I have, and how lucky I've been to have had it all.

Just FYI: this operation-thingey is the technical part of why I've been such a ridiculously bad blogger and correspondent over the past couple of months. So if I owe you one (or more), please be patient. But to recfify in part one of said ill-managed correspondences (the other party of which will know who they are) please forgive this rather oblique, but SO heartfelt shout of:

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

and its attendant and many-times-plural "YAY!"-s

So many things have happened over the past number of weeks, but for now, I offer you a diptych entitled They Give Me Strawberries, I Give Them Peppers. Have I ever mentioned how magic these guys are?

The pepper picture is one of Tomi's photographic œuvres. He and Leo are fantastic budding wee artists, to be sure. More about that later, though I will offer a Happy Clown / Sad Clown teaser for now...

Tomi got kind of shafted on this occasion, unfortunately, because he'd heard me scold Leo for drawing on his face (but as you can probably imagine, he'd also heard when I accidentally laughed, despite myself, and he saw when I took the picture). So he was double scolded when he followed the leader. Still, his soft, sad tears and my realising a bit too late why he'd done it, anyway, meant that he got his picture taken and a huggy apology for my mistaken part to play, and we had a good conversation about listening, to boot. Not that he gave 100% to the listening part of that conversation, but, well... As you parents out there know, sometimes it takes alot of pennies before that one finally drops.

And one last diptych before I get back to my drawing board, and then to my operation prep (ugh): a happy one of the previously sad little clown (I can't emphasise it enough: they are such hilarious, such touching little creatures), with his mom in the background, who thought she'd moved out of the picture path; and Jean-Philippe's corner of our "back garden", which has got much closer to what we always imagined this year. So lush! And so much loved by all four of us. But this corner took a long time in coming, and each day, as he looked out to see if things had progressed, Jean-Philippe reminded me (to my great glee, of course) exactly of Toad in The Garden, one of the stories from Frog and Toad Together, by Arnold Lobel.

New Neighbours

2008-04-29T10:40:00.005+02:00

Sometime around end-February / beginning-March, we began hearing the warbling of a blackbird in our courtyard. For some weeks, he would essentially stay perched on the antenna just across from us. His warbling is so beautiful, it sometimes brings tears to my eyes. It occurred to me, after a few weeks of this beauty, that when he left it would be very hard to get used to his absence. After reading up on blackbirds, though, it seems there is every chance that, once nested in a particular spot, the blackbirds will stay on, year after year. Oh-ho, how I hope this is true! Unless, of course, we ever do move. In which case, I'm going to do everything in my power to get them to accompany us.

Tomi took the picture above a few weeks ago, just after the blackbird had begun to spread his wings a bit. Here he is on the corner rooftop to the front-right of us in the courtyard.

And then, this weekend, before hopping into bed, Leo first spent some time in my arms, watching and listening, and then it was Tomi's turn. And just as I was going to send the tot off to pillowland, what to our wondering eyes? The warbler's mate! And they kissed! I kid you not. One of the most beautiful sights I've seen in ages (besides my boys, of course)...

Family Flea Circus

2008-04-28T10:33:00.015+02:00

A few shots of our family flea circus from the past few weeks:

These pictures were taken on one of our first days that seemed to mark the real beginning of spring. Jean-Philippe was watching from the perfect angle as the boys played at the edge of he fountain. And the blue sweater was a hand-me-down from a wonderful friend, and is one of our all-time favourites. It has sadly been slightly too small for a few months, now. But when I got it back out to consider handing it down once again, Tomi snatched it from my hands and hasn't let a day go by without putting on, since. On this day, he found a Turkish knit shirt that my mother-in-law had given me and... it's been a regular feature in our lives ever since, too.

The boys' almost-own creation: demon costumes, more or less à la Mononoke. ("Mommy! You can make some ears? Like this? You can do that? We making demon costumes!") And, an hour or so later, our current X-dresser and Black Spider-Boy on the sunny terrace.

Scenes from the night of our first lice-extraction. I was horrified when we realised what it was, but the parents all reassure me: it's the first of many. You call that reassurance?! I hear you saying. Well, yeah, when they're also saying, "What?! It's your first time?! Lemme tell yeh, we've been through it several times already, ourselves!" and so on. Still... Oh, and no, Tomi isn't fingering anybody. Later, when I was helping Leo brush his teeth, I heard a happy, somewhat surprised little voice behind me say, "Look! It's a crocodile!" and turned to see this (though the picture has been cut, because this is still a blog that's open to the general public...).

And our little dancer. We were inspired to start putting together a "dressing room" of sorts for moments when either or both of them feels like putting together a costume. This was what came out of their first foray into said "room" (which is actually a big bag in one corner of their bedroom, which holds all sorts of things, from princess slippers to bat masks. They also have a "treasure box," which holds the smaller items).

On the 18th of April in '75...

2008-04-19T23:00:00.008+02:00

I would have thought it a happy coincidence that Ellen would be born on this day, 200 years after the events in the poem described, regardless. But the fact that all four of us spent our first seven years of school at Longfellow Elementary made it an even better coinky.

In any case...!

As I've already mentioned, I spend some special time thinking about each of my close family members every year on their brithday. On Ellen's birthday this year, Mom added to the fun. She copied all three of us girls into the email she sent the birthday gal, which included stories and three pictures. I had read through the stories and was looking at the last of the three pictures again the next day, when Tomi came up beside me:

Jenny: "You know who that is?"

Tomi: "Yeah, it's Gretchen!"

Jenny: ...that is so cool...

The picture in question is the first one, above. The second one was found while I was looking for one of the two of us together that I'd scanned last year. This one was too perfect a match (look closely at her face...), so the other photo will have to wait another year or so...

One of my favourite memories of the time surrounding Ellen's birth is that of David and me imagining how the birth was going to proceed. One of the best tales we came up with (they were, all of them, mighty bizarre) was the one which started with the very small, very wily and very fast baby-that-would-soon-be-Ellen zooming out of our mom (who was usually on the dining room table when it happened), jumping off the table, running headlong out the front door, jumping into the driver's seat of the Volkswagon van (which was conveniently waiting with her brother and sister in the drive way, keys in the ignition, engine humming, refrigerator and pantry stocked) and gunning it. From there, we went on all kinds of adventures, including but not limited to everywhere we knew in our town, our grandparents' houses and, of course, Turkey. The baby-that-would-soon-be-Ellen was a brilliant adventurer, and we were her willing adventurees.

What we got was no less brilliant: a little sparkler, a happy wee camper, a super good sport - all bundled up and topped with "blondie hair and blue eyes!"

Snip! Snip!

2008-04-04T12:00:00.003+02:00

The boys before and after their haircuts - the first of all of their haricuts which didn't leave me feeling (entirely) like the image of me at the end suggests. I actually added that image to give a look at the radical change in hair that I underwent, myself, at the end of March. But it also shows you how I felt on Easter evening, before I turned into a geyser (it was... impressive. To say the least). heh! heh! ..gulp..

The Xmas Bunny

2008-04-02T13:37:00.011+02:00

An account of our Easter Bonanza Weekend in the Vosges was begun ages ago, but I've had so little time for anything that's not work/projects and family over the past few weeks, that I've decided to give you these and let it go at that. More pics from the days since Easter should be in short order, though these days... you never do know. Oy-yoy.

The hovel & the boys with their toys

Going up-up-up-up-down-up-up-up-up-up

Good eats and drinks way up thar in the snow-capped mountains

The skies had radically changed for the taxi ride back down
(another story, altogether)

Mémé & Pépé arrive for a long Easter lunch

Noon, evening (see below), next morning

Let it be said that depite a raging stomach flu on my part, and despite our getting little rest at all, we managed to come home the better for it all. The weather was spectacularly romantic, which certainly had something to do with it. And the bug didn't keep me from hiking, either. The air was clean; the Xmas Bunny was generous; and the ceramic-tiled oven kept us warmer than I'd ever have imagined, once we got the hang of it. We're already planning our next long, spring-in-France* weekend...

see above: In the evening, as we were winding down, cleaning up after a light supper, the boys settled down at the table, mostly just to be near us in this strange place. The only radio station we could get in the mountains was a classical station that was playing an operatic version of Genesis, which was really magnificent to listen to. We parents were truly and pleasantly surprised, though, when we realised that the boys were really into it. They'd never really listened to the radio in this manner, and the wonderful orchestral sound effects and booming voices had the boys riveted to their seats. And get this: when the music would change, they would tell us what that was supposed to mean. For instance, when the orchestra sounded the approach of the serpent, the boys told us that things were getting dangerous, and that, "the serpent is bad! He is a devil! ...Mommy, what is a devil?" They know all about demons, thanks to Mononoke, so then there was a chorus of, "He is a DEMON! A DEMON! Daddy! Mommy! The serpent! He is a DEMON!" Though there was some confusion: "He has wormies coming out all over him? He has wormies, too?" "No, this is a different version of things..." Then they hunched down and got to listening hard again. It was really beautiful to witness. I just saw a version of Peter and the Wolf among our CDs that wasn't there before, so methinks their daddy was at least as impressed as I was...

* Spring, in France, is one long series of weeks for which it is advisable to keep an eye on the calendar, because at any given moment there may be yet another holiday. We always hope for the holidays to fall on a Friday or a Monday, for obvious reasons.

Crimeny!

2008-03-18T00:15:00.013+01:00

So. Just a few days after the g*d*a*n post about f*c*i*g bad words coming out of little guys' mouths, what do I witness, but this:

The boys and I are walking home with (their friend) Raphaël and his mommy, (our friend) Isabella. We stop often and long along the way to our house. In fact, we stop so often and so long, that by the time we're at our house, it's dinner time; so we all eat together. It's a riot, in more ways than one.

At one point, we moms are talking as the three boys scamper up and around a wall surrounding one of the public courtyards along the way. Tomi is in the King position, and he looks over and down at us, then raises himself up as though he has a public proclamation to make. He says, "P*t**n! *u*ain!"* in a way that I don't even have to look back over the past few days or weeks to know that he didn't hear that one from either of us. Isabella is laughing surreptitiously beside me as I ask, "Where did you learn that one?!" To which he answers, "Nawelle says it! She say it to me, too!" Raphi nods in agreement with his friend, and they carry on for a moment or two, just barely within our hearing: "P*t**n! *u*ain!" and so on, until they get us worried about their positions on the wall and the silliness that's beginning to take hold of them. As we get them down from their peril, Isabella gives me some insight into the situation of their school buddy. And all the time, I'm thinking, "Okay, but then again, our household ain't breaking down, but who knows?! Perhaps my boys are nonetheless teaching g*d*a*n to all of their school buddies! HORRORS!"

Ach!

* p*t**n = wh*r*/sl*t, but it's used variously, as English speakers use the F-word. In any case, you definitely don't want your kids saying this (in France, at any rate).

p.s. Them's our boys, up there. We had a day of spring last Saturday (18°C!!), during which adults worked on the terrace and boys wreaked havoc. Actually, though... I'm not being fair. Tomi spent alot of time doing scientific work (searching for worms, bees and other squirmy things), and Leo did alot of "reading" of Tin-Tin books before they started wreaking their havoc, which spun their daddy into "let's-go-to-the-park" mode, and gave me some time to do the grocery shopping and finish up the terrace work. (= a long, happy story, made short)

p.p.s. The wearing of two different boots was and still is Leo's idea. He says he's "doing like a clown does". I don't disagree with him, of course. How could I? And don't even ask me what Leo's up to, but no, Tomi is not into rap. He's still into Spider-Man x 1,573. And Vic Chesnutt. Among other things.

Country Mice? City Mice?

2008-03-13T15:35:00.004+01:00

We're looking for a house, and the question keeps nagging us. I really do feel that we'd be happy being in either category, but if anybody has life-changing stories that have to do with this kind of question, please feel free to email, post a comment or call and tell us all about it, whether the story is negative or positive or whathaveyou.

Just fyi, so you know where we're coming from: We live in the city centre, but for the past eight years we've always had either a wee garden or a terrace. We definitely need an outside-space, whichever it is and however large. But would it make a big difference to have a real garden? And would it be worth it, with the longer commute to work and to cultural events, and without the plethora of commodities that we presently have within a 0.5 - 5 minutes' walk? And do people really use their gardens enough to justify the amount of work that's needed to keep them up? These are only a few of the questions we're asking ourselves at the moment, but they're a good start...

Apartment for Sale

2008-03-13T15:30:00.004+01:00

Pre-script: These are not our furnishings! They're those of our tenant. We totally renovated the place about nine years ago, and lived there for three years before I became pregnant with the twins...

Oh, and if you know someone who'd like a pied-à-terre in Strasbourg (a long shot, but who knows?), here are a couple of pictures of the place we're selling (with the present lodger's furniture, unfortunately. People in France don't "stage", I"m afraid, and so we took these when we were changing the water heater a few months back), as well as the blurb :

Gorgeous 2 room flat, 42m2, 1st floor of 17th century building. City centre (Strasbourg), quiet, looks out on large courtyard and greenery. Beams and original wood floors, equipped kitchen, lovely nooks and crannies, well-lit. Sold occupied (contract ends October 2009). 150,000 Euros. No agency fees.

What's in a word?

2008-03-11T08:48:00.017+01:00

Alot more than I'd ever thought, before my boys started asking about them, it seems. There's the history of a word, for example. Not its origins (though I've always found that interesting enough), but the history of how it came to be known to our boys. For instance, when you hear your small boy say (in an innocent, even extremely cute way, and to noone in particular, as he twirls around, waiting his turn to be zipped up before an outing), "You g*d*a*n idiot!" you are, of course, forced to pause and think - once you've got over the shock of it, that is.

I knew it was almost impossible that they'd ever heard the two words together. Not that I've never used them together, but I'm sure I'd never done so in their hearing, and never with the word "you" attached to them.

The answer to the g*d*a*n part was the easiest. I'd said it under my breath at least twice in the past few weeks, when a zipper went wonky, for instance, or when the closet door in the entryway refused to budge, and it wasn't clear why, and the cold was coming in, and we were in a hurry to get going. My own usage had surprised me, actually, because I'm much more likely to use the F-word in these cases (heh! heh! ...sorry, Dad). The boys must've been milling about when the word was uttered. Got to be a bit more careful, I guess. Though then again... it's a subject for discussion, really. More on that later, maybe. For now:

But "idiot"? It's bandied about in French like you wouldn't believe ("T'es idiot ou quoi ?!" "Sois pas idiot!" and so on), and even to children (though certainly not by Jean-Philippe), but I couldn't figure out when they'd have heard it in English.

I said (and I had to surpress a little laugh; it honestly was funny, the way he'd said it), "Honey, that's a terrible thing to say! It's very insulting. Why did you say that?" Leo looked at me and said, "Mommy, what's an idiot?" I tried to explain, but 'stupid' and 'dumb' aren't words they hear, either, so I wasn't feeling very effective. Then he said, "The bad guys in the lots-of-puppies movie are idiots?" My face scrunched up in a questioning look for a second. He contniued, "Yeah, because the bad lady, she say, 'YOU IDIOTS!'"

Ah-h-h-h! Illumination. Cruella DaVille, yelling at her bungling cohorts! And then, as we watched Cars together this weekend, I heard it again. It's everywhere, this word. Just waiting for innocent young 'uns to pick it up and attach g*d*a*n to it!

Still, one of the things that I was impressed with, in a general sort of way, is the fact that he'd taken two words whose meanings he didn't understand - I didn't give him a definition for g*d*a*n this time; some things can wait - and strung them together in a meaningful (if injurious) way.

And the conversation about the meaning of the one and the forbidden usage-by-small-ones of the other were eventually and clearly understood. Another odd notch on their learning belts.

Frankly...

2008-02-24T23:52:00.010+01:00

I can't say enough in praise of our wee ones, of late. They have been achingly hilarious, splendidly spontaneous, incredibly imaginative... And then... There was this:

As I was making dinner on Friday evening, Tomi came in happily from the living room, holding this out to me and saying:

"Mommy, look! It's for you! It's a rabbit in a bat costume!"

Another one for the beloved scrapbooks that Grampa made for them...

Breakfast & Breadsticks

2008-02-21T15:58:00.007+01:00

Two great moments from the past few weeks.

1) On the weekend after Tomi got the chicken pox, I decided to make breadsticks from the recipe in Beard on Bread (a wonderful book for all bread-making-lovers, which was a cornerstone of our childhood home and is now becoming one for my boys', too). Tomi and Leo were over the moon when I asked them if they'd like to help cook. The memory of their gleeful laughter, as they pulled and rolled and punched that dough, is still ringing in my ears...

2) And a moment I'd been vaguely dreaming of for the past year or so actually came to pass the other morning, when we were woken up by Tomi's padding into our room, and cooing, "Papa? Est-ce que tu veux du breakfast ?"* In the ensuing bits of conversation, it became clear that he had set the table for breakfast, before rousing his various family members from their slumber. The only thing missing was the coffee (but I ain't about to complain about that)!

* "Daddy, do you want some breakfast?"

Off the Wall & Into the Water

2008-02-21T14:43:00.004+01:00

A few from the Peanuts' Gallery:
FYI: Parts of the bat outines were contracted out to the artist's parents. They are currently being investigated for insider dealing.

One in a Million

2008-02-21T13:42:00.005+01:00

(voices, calling for change)

I generally don't like adding films/pictures that aren't our own, but there are exceptions to the rule. Thanks, Deb!

It Had to Happen

2008-02-11T10:16:00.000+01:00

On the morning of the 24th January, I was slow to wake up. The radio was blaring by the bedside, but my body was glued to the bedsheets. As if from deep within a dream, I heard some padding from the boys' room into the bathroom, and a little voice: "...mosquitos...bites of mosquitos..." and a bigger voice, "...non...attends...?!?!...c'est quoi, ça ?...attends..." After a while, I dragged myself into the bathroom and mumbled, "Chicken pox." The odyssey had begun.

Assia* predicted:
First boy = few pox
Second boy = 14 days later & lots more pox
And so it was.

They were both brave, understanding little bunnies. And then, the medications they can prescribe these days are so much more effective than the stuff they had all those 32 years ago. Tomi slept alot for the first two days. Leo had a fever on the first evening, and was all skittish about the lotion spray. All in all, though, it's been a lot easier going than we feared, even with my having to put my work on hold (again?!), and our feeling a bit shut in.

*Assia & Mohamed are both our friends and the boys' pediatricians

Oh ! La vache ! (part 2)

2008-01-30T12:00:00.000+01:00

The project that included my book, Oh! La vache! was awarded first prize by La main à la pâte, an organization which was begun and is presided over by George Charpak (Nobel Prize, Physics, 1992) in order to promote the sciences in schools.

To receive the award, we took 16 of the children who had participated in the project to (the French Academy of Sciences, in) Paris for a day. It was exhausting, but exhilarating. And the experience has definitely given me the impetus I needed for a couple of other projects I've been working on.

In other words: Back to the drawing board!

Beginnings (Xmas 2007)

2008-01-14T11:45:00.000+01:00

This blog post is so long in coming, so I'll keep the comments short and rely on the pictures to convey the happy times we spent back home with Gramma, Grampa, Auntie Ellen, Cousin Gretchen and a number of the members of our beloved extended family and friends. It was, indeed, a happy time all around, and a cold and snowy one, to boot. We arrived at O'Hare in the middle of a blizzard. The boys first saw the, "SNOW! (MOMMY! LOOK!)" and then their "GRAMMA! GRAMPA! (WE ARE HE-E-E-RE!)" and then they settled into sleep in the car as we adults bit our nails and blocked out as best we could the ever-increasing numbers of cars and semis in the ditches along I-80. But then, we were HOME! and the fun could begin...

Below: All but the sleeping boys participate in the Xmas decorating, each in their own way - heh! heh!

The Worm (Re)Turns!

2008-01-14T11:43:00.001+01:00

Ellen and Gretchen and I had a lovely drive up to Chicago, where we spent the afternoon with hilarious little Henry and Betsy - and her ever-growing belly! Even got a moment or two with Papa Pete. We were sorry to leave the warmth and welcome of their household, and put it off as long as possible. But Jean-Philippe's lovin' arms were awaiting us at O'Hare...

...and the fog was awaiting us Out There. Another hairy ride towards home put us directly in harm's way, and found us holing up in a seedy motel for the night. Yikes!
The boys had spent several heartbroken days and nights, wondering if their daddy was ever going to join us again, so they were overjoyed when he not only walked through the door, but... he brought Teddy and Wormy with him! A joyful reunion, indeed!

Xmas Bells and Boots

2008-01-14T11:41:00.000+01:00

We were happy that the hard weather couldn't discourage the family members who'd planned to join us for the festivities, as well as the turkey that my cousin Arnie had nourished all last year, in preparation for such a meeting. (Unfortunately, there were quite a few days when the camera didn't even come out, so I have no pictures of Uncle Dale's visit, for example. Or Jean and her boys. Or, or... Shucks. Well, I did manage to get a few good ones of the Hogan-Sveningsen visit, below. Whew!) There was much good cheer, to be sure!

The gang's all beered! (excepting the chillins, who were milk-and-cidered)

Left: Great-Gramma & ze boys ("She's GREAT!" "Yes, she is!" "YEAH! GREAT-GRAMMA IS I LIKE HER, BECAUSE SHE'S GREAT!")
Right: Buzz mesmerises the boys. Again. And again. And...

The boys were little angels all Xmas day, beginning with their unwitting help in making one of their Grandmother's oldest wishes come true: a morning-long opening of gifts, with little or no 'tacking and alot of appreciating. Opening the Spider-Man fun kits their great-aunt Kathy sent them first certainly helped the boys in this (albeit, as I mentioned, unwitting) endeavor to please Gramammy, of course...

Above: Tradition! on the night before and the morning of...

Below: Wishes coming true. And Barb being snea-eaky...

Xmas Day was one of the most beautiful I've seen in all my life. Perfect weather for a chilly, snowy scramble about the neighbourhood, followed by fortress-making, followed by warm things to eat and drink, followed by the longest hand - ever - of Zombie Fluxx, followed by a good winter night's deep sleep.

All is Calm, All is Bright

2008-01-14T11:39:00.000+01:00

The post-Xmas days were just what we needed to end the year: calm and gorgeous. The stress of the year gone by melted away, even as we found ourselves in the midst of the political storm that is pre-causus season in Iowa. The boys were treated to everything they could be treated to by their lovin' grandparents, the big 'uns got to see some old friends, and we were all very sorry to know that this utopian state of things wasn't going to last forever.

Oh, and did I mention already that we not only saw 2.5 presidential candidates "in ze flesh", but that I also had something like an epiphany as I shook Obama's hand? No joke. At the risk of sounding apostolic (or drugged), it was a very moving experience. What was perhaps most incredible was that I actually had this long and utterly peaceful moment as I shook his hand, during which I was able to say everything that I meant to say, hear everything he said in response, turn around... and only then did my knees begin to buckle. I've shaken hands and/or spoken with many people I admire, for one reason or another, but never had this kind of experience.

A funny story: The boys are still trying to figure out what titles really mean, in family and otherwise. Even tonight (23 January, folks. Ugh) at supper, the boys were plying us with questions, and supplying their own, now well-rehersed answers (as in: their daddy is my daddy, we are their grandparents' parents, and so on). We do our best. But they're still so wee. Sometimes I lose sight of this for a moment or six.

So anyway: One day, I was making the bed (HA! It's TRUE!) in our room, when Tomi padded down the hall and sat on the top step, yelling, "MO-O-O-OM!" to which I turned and answered, "Yes, honey?" He looked over and up at me, cocked his head and said, "No, I mean the other Mom!" Me: "You mean Gramma?" Tomi: "..." Me: "See, bunny... your gramma's my mom, but she's your grandma." Tomi: (raises his shoulders, hesitates...) "GRANDMA-MOM!"

Adieu, 2007!

2008-01-14T11:37:00.000+01:00

The last two days equalled more brilliant winter weather, more calm good times... A great way to start the newest year. But we couldn't just end it on that bright note, now, could we?

So I ended our trip with a horrendous, terrifying ear infection, compounded by severe angina and other problems, all of which started the night before we left, and which made the trip home so devastatingly painful that I really didn't know if I was going to make it. Actually, I'm not certain that I would have, had my dad's quick thinking not brought me to the able hands that hover over Mark Smith's Shiatsu table the next morning. Even with this help, though, the pain was unbearable. Having (at last! at last!) got home and got the luggage and the boys upstairs, I raced (read: moved as quickly as I could) down the street to the doctor, who was absolutely appalled at what he saw. While Jean-Philippe went to fill the prescriptions, I settled uneasily into bed, and didn't really wake up again for 72 hours, except to (very painfully) swallow medications and change positions. Didn't eat for four days, actually, aside from a tiny bun that I forced down for a half an hour one night, in order to be sure that my meds would stay down. Even now, the thought of all of that makes me shudder... Oh! And we almost got kicked off the plane, because I realised at the last second that my insulin case had fallen out of my bag as we were driving to Chicago. At the very last second, I found a bottle of Humulin that I thought I'd put in the baggage we'd checked in. Who knows if we'd've made it, had they kicked us off the plane? What a thought. Enough of that, though.

Most importantly: Many many many thanks and best wishes to all of our friends and family whose company we were able to enjoy over those couple of weeks. The truth is, that the lack of digital images of y'all attests very simply to the fact that we were so intent upon and happy being with you. It may sound corny, but I'm very serious. And the wonderful times we had were worth the lack of images, to be sure. Such beauty, such joy...

And special thanks to Mark Smith, and to my parents, without whom...

And to all of you, near and far: We wish you a very VERY wonderful newest of years, filled with family and friends, good times and great cheer.

And should hard times befall you, remember, and sing along with Tomi and Vic and me: "You are... never alone...!"

Wormy Update

2007-12-12T22:10:00.000+01:00

So... I spoke with Mom & Dad (Gramma & Grampa) yesterday, as they fumbled about in the candle-lit dark, thanks to a power outage that the ice storm caused. Among other things, they mentioned that Wormy, Jr. had arrived, but that they didn't think he looked quite like the Wormy we knew and loved so well. We'll see...

So today, I told Leo that Father Christmas thought he might have found his Wormy, and that he'd fixed up the Wormy he'd found and dropped him off at Gramma & Grampa's house. I thought I was being very cautiously subtle; that he wouldn't get the fact that I was trying to avoid the Utter Lie; that he would appreciate the note I was adding without knowing exactly what that note meant. Leo got teary eyed again, though, and sobbed:

"No... It's not going be MY Wormy! WHERE is MY Wormy?! He's not anywhere! He's los' an' I can't find him! Father Kiss-muss didn't find him, too!"

I tried to assure him that I thought it WAS his Wormy, but that he shouldn't be surprised when he saw him, because of the fixin' up and all. He wanted to believe me; he tried to believe me; he gave into the need to believe, at least a little...

Leo needed to cuddle after all of the emotion. And Tomi came in to explain it all to him again (I love it when they do this, as though things are better coming from them than from their parents. Which may be true, after all...) and give him a pat on the shoulder...

p.s. Mark, I haven't yet seen Knuffle Bunny, but I love Mo Willems' Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, so it shouldn't be long...

It's Little Moments Like These...

2007-12-06T21:24:00.000+01:00

So... we realised tonight that Wormy* was gone for good. Which made for a very sad bedtime, indeed. Leo was unconsolable; Tomi was squirmy, not quite sure how to show his feelings; Mommy and Papa were not quite sure how to proceed, except to keep looking and hoping and offering consolation...

June 2006 - Image With Wormy

And then (and please remember that I'd done such a search some months back, when it seemed as though we'd lost the little guy, and come up with fifty times nothing), what to my wondering eyes?! I FOUND IT! On Amazon. I squealed, "JEAN-PHILIPPE! LOOK!" And suddenly, two little boys were streaking out of their beds to see what I'd found. But it was, "Out! Back! Get back to bed!" with them, and then: click! click! pay! send!

And after this, a tiny, sad little voice from the boys' room, "I want a song!" It was Tomi, who could hear me singing, "You are never alone..." This is his favourite song, ever since he heard me singing it one morning, and came in with a curious expression on his face, asking, "It's from where, that song?" I said it was Vic Chesnutt's, and he said, "But it's from where?" After a bit of gesturing, eventually towards the stereo, I realised that he was asking which CD it came from. He liked the (Vic) Chesnutt idea, but he wanted to hear it. So I put it on, and we danced and sang and I tell yeh... he's goo-ood!

Anyway, he wanted a song tonight. So I got the guitar out, sat down, and started playing a little accoustic ditty I've been working on, despite Tomi's protests (because it wasn't The Song. But I don't yet know how to play it, and anyway, it was pretty clear that the tyke wouldn't last the song out, regardless which song it was). And very soon, there was silence from his side of the room... And so... After a while, I started winding up my wee work in progress. And when I was done, Leo stopped fiddling with his little Transformer, sighed, and said, "That was very beautiful!"

And the point of this story is not that it was or that it wasn't. It's that it's little moments like these...

And this: I thanked Leo for his kind kind words, gave him a kiss, and suggested the following scenario to him...

"I'm going to write a little letter to Father Christmas tonight, and ask him to keep an eye out for Wormy as he does his nightly rounds of the world's post office boxes. Because you know, Father Christmas sees lots of things that we don't see, and sometimes he finds a missing toy, and sometimes he even has time to fix the toy up a little, make it look like new!"

Leo: Oh-ho-ho-ho! Me: And so maybe he can put the little stuffing-balls back in... Leo: ALL of them! The LOTS of them that fell out! Me: Yes, ALL of them, even! ...and even maybe sew up the holes from which the balls were falling out! Leo: OH! Ye-e-e-es! Me: And then he could wash him up and maybe even put some new antennae on him! Leo: And he could put new colours on him, too! Me: What a good idea! He was missing alot of his colours, wasn't he? Leo: Yeah, but Father Christmas has new colours an' he puts them on an' Wormy will be beautiful! An'...

And suddenly, his lip began to quiver, his eyes began to well up, and he sunk back into his pillow, wailing, "But I want my SAME Wormy!"

I did my best to reassure him that it would be the same Wormy, only with a make-over. I think he believed me. Sort of. But you know... I also think he didn't. But that he appreciated the effort.

We shall see, when he and found-and-repaired-by-Father-Christmas-Wormy meet up at Gamma-Gampa's house... In nine days!

Ya-a-a-a-a-ay!

* For those who missed the earlier episodes: Wormy and Eddie Lizard were gifts from our friends, Ina and Jerry, on the boys' first birthday. After a throne-sharing period of several months, Wormy eventually usurped the throne that (Aunt Peg's) Goo-Goo (Bear) had occupied, and became King Wormy in Leo's Little Guy World. He has occupied this position ever since, though Goo-Goo retains a special place in Leo's heart that is especially apparent when Wormy goes missing.

Our Two Little Big Joys

2007-11-29T09:39:00.000+01:00

They're four! And they're over the moon! And so are we...

Jean-Philippe took the day off yesterday, and we spent the afternoon at le Vaisseau (a children's science museum, of sorts), where we had a fabulous time all around (and despite we parents' being awfully sick). Forgot the camera, unfortunately. But here's a wee anecdote:

As we left le Vaisseau, the boys asked if they could each buy two of the teeny-tiny packets of gummy bears the museum shop offers. We said yes, gave them each one of the two packets, and promised them the second one when we got to the tram. But we hadn't anticipated the long way to the tram that we'd picked (because we hadn't yet been on this part of the new line), and so there was this hilarious exchange, wherein the boys claimed that there was no tram "this way," and we bet them the second packet of gummies that there was, and they lost, but we were "nice" about it, and by this time we were walking along the tram line, but it was still a ways to go to the next stop, and Leo couldn't take it any longer, so he slumped his shoulders and refused to move any further, and I walked back to him, smiling slyly and dangling the bag with the gummies, and his head sunk further into his shoulders as his smile spread, and when I got to him, he said (indicating that he understood that he could only eat them once he'd got himself to the tram stop), "But I can hold them, okay?" I willingly gave in. And he held them carefully in front of him in their little white paper sack - as though they were small, precious jewels in a velvet bag - until we'd all got to the tram.

I went to get the groceries necessary for their now-traditional birthday meal (lasagne, which we had this year with fresh-from-the-farm, amazing roquette salad. You don't even need dressing with these leaves! Mmmm...), while Jean-Philippe took the boys to pick out their birthday dessert: chocolate eclairs (their current dessert-y fave). We met up again along the way home, and I began dinner preparations while Jean-Philippe and the boys settled down to watch Spider-Man and get hungry.

After dinner, there was the usual, traditional fanfare (though the cake was decidedly un-trad, but what can you do? We've been so sick these past couple of weeks, and the thought of making birthday cake three times this week just didn't give un any more energy than the little we already didn't exactly have):

And the boys' gift wishes were more than a little satisfied:

A funny moment: Just as the boys began digging into their prezzies (starting with the talking superhero cards from Gramma & Grampa), Leo realised he needed to go to the toilet. Tomi opened his as we waited, and was absolutely delighted. He (and I) kept urging Leo to finish up and get back to the table to open his, but Leo's system wasn't having any of it. After a while, Leo called out to Tomi that he could open the other card for him. Tomi was kind enough, though, to take the card in to Leo and let him do the honours himself. A really funny family bathroom scene followed. I'll try to get one of the mini films up in the next few days...

Before they went to bed, Leo asked us to remove his cape. I carefully laid it over the guard rail, but he smiled, slipped his hands out from under his covers and pulled it back under with him, saying, "I don't want to leave it there, because the monsters can get it." Have I mentioned the scenario that Monsters & Co. has put in their heads? They refer to the idea in mostly amusing ways, but still...

This morning, the boys' usual first words ("Mommy, you can make us some breakfast?" or "Papa, tu peux nous faire du 'breakfast' ?") were replaced by squeals of glee, as they rushed into the living room to take a gander at the loot from the night before. Leo walked into our bedroom, asking, "Je peux regarder le Tomi film ?"* and concentrating his gaze on the Cars DVD in his hands. The answer, of course, was, "No, it's time to get ready for school!" We had to work to get the Bat Boys into their Normal Kid clothes, but it was pretty humorous work, and well worth it.

Well... to sum up a lot of thoughts, etcetera, on the subject(s), and at the risk of sounding like nearly every other mom in the world:

Our little ones become more and more delightful with each passing day. And every night, as I re-check on them before I lay my head down on my own pillow, the butterflies flutter a bit in my tum and I think, "What beauty. What joy." And this, even on the Very Tired Mom days. Or perhaps even especially on those days...

* "Can I watch Tomi's film?" Tomi had opened up Cars, and Leo had opened up Peter Pan, so even though we explained that they were both both of theirs, well...

It's Snowing (and Spiderman) Again

2007-11-15T09:14:00.000+01:00

Before I sit down to some illustrating, today, I feel bound to blog (yet again) about the weather.

It's been snowing in little flurry-bursts for almost 24 hours, now.

Yesterday, after a morning spent at some friends' house (the boys and ours - a swank family, met through a common interest and social obligation: the schooling of children), we walked back the short way home, through the wet drippings from the cold, grey sky. It was strangely lovely.

We passed a parked car with Belgian license plates. Hunks of snow still clung to the bumper. The boys and I saw it at the same time; Leo pointed and cried, "It's snow!" and Tomi called out, hopefully, "It's going to be Christmas-time, Mommy?!" I remarked to myself that the weatherman had been spot-on for days, now - perhaps the longest stretch, ever.

Back at home, we had a light lunch and were pottering around, when - lo and behold! - the raindrops began magically transforming themselves into snowdrops. And then... snowflakes! The boys were thrilled. Tomi asked again, with hope ever present in his little voice, "There's going to be presents, now?!" If you haven't noticed, our boys have recently become keenly aware of the gift-giving that certain "special days" entail.

Speaking of which: their birthday is coming up quickly - though not quickly enough for them, it would seem.

My boys (especially Tomi) have gone utterly over the top about Spider-Man (which is how we're forced to spell it, now). When we asked them what they'd like for their birthday, Tomi blurted out, "SPIDER-MAN! An' black Spider-man an' red Spider-Man an' Spider-Man car an'..." Somewhere in the litany, Leo joined in with, "LOTS OF! Spider-Man things!"* And so on...

So. The other night, Tomi was softly but insistently crying in his bed (Leo had already fallen asleep). I thought he was saying, "I want sump-ting (to) eat," but when I went in to investigate, he was saying, "I want my birt-day (to) be here!" He was so excited about the prospect of getting a Spider-Man thing, that it was driving him to tears! We had a long, quiet talk, and things seemed to calm down. He got to sleep, anyway. But then, there were Spider-Man-obsessive sketches all last weekend, too (some were REALLY funny)... And Bat Man. But especially Spider-Man. Oh-yé!
Oh, and two days ago, Tomi came into the kitchen (where I was preparing dinner, which is when the boys have ample time to get into all of the things that they can't when I'm in the living-etc-room with them) sporting my boa-like scarf and black leather gloves, smiling slyly and saying, "Mommy, look! I'm Bat Cat! I have griffes!" (Bat Cat is their name for Cat Woman and 'griffes' is French for claws.)

*Leo is also really into Spider- and Bat Man everything. But he's got an obsession all his own, which stems almost certainly from his love of theatrics. To wit: princess things. Every time they go to Felix and Eliza's house, Tomi makes a bee-line for the superhero outfits; and although he's more than happy to participate in all of that, Leo waits until Eliza's princess accoutrements have been shed... and then he surreptitiously dons it all himself.

p.s. Felix and Eliza recently moved house. The Spider-Man pictures are from just before the move, and the Princess pictures are from a few days after the move. There are many other really cute pictures (of kids and adults alike) from both gatherings of friends, but since work is calling, I'm going to have to post them later...

Ich bin... erstaunt.

2007-11-05T11:25:00.000+01:00

Above: the boys on their first day of school (two months ago -- I know, I know. This post was actually begun on the 6th of September ( !! )). In the first picture, they are blocking our way out the front door. I chose the second picture, not because it was the best of the four, but because the two together show two sides of the boys' elfish-ness. & the word "elfish" is one that characterizes my boys perfectly...

This year, the boys are in the French-German bilingual section of their pre-school. At the parent-teacher meeting at the end of last year, the director and the teachers gave us lots of information about how things work, etcetera, including this mini-warning: "DO NOT expect your kids to come home spouting German right off the bat. Some kids won't speak a word of German in front of their parents for several years, even. There is no reason to be worried about their progress until a teacher has a word with (the parents) about it..." Since our boys never told us any more than that they'd "eated," "played" and "painted" at school last year, we weren't expecting anything like instant results. So you can imagine our shock when, at dinner after the third day of school, THIS conversation took place:

Papa: So, guys, what did you do at school today?
Leo: Umm... I painted!
Papa: What did you paint?
Leo: Monsters!
Tomi: Yeah, me too! An' a rabbit!
Papa: Did you learn any German today? (He looked across the table at Leo and said) For instance, "Ich heiße Leo?"
Leo: ...
Tomi: Ich heiße Tomi!
Mom & Papa : (Exchange shocked expressions)

A couple of evenings later, again at table, having been asked a similar question, Tomi smiled, looked sweetly over at us, and said, "Ich bin eine Mädchen!" We laughed and laughed and asked if he didn't mean 'ein Junge,' to which he replied, "Non, eine Mädchen!" And then the boys began laughing uncontrollably, yelling, "Mädchen, Mädchen! Eine Mädchen!" and so on...

Sheesh!

2007-10-20T23:23:00.000+02:00

Okay, so... my blogging has gone by the wayside. I keep telling myself that I should just blog about the daily & little stuff, but then big things happen and celebrations and so on, and (these days) it takes me so long to get around to even looking at the pictures, that by the time blogging about it all (or any of it) is possible, the thing(s) is (are) already old news...

Anyway! Alot's been happening. And since I don't have any idea where I could begin to begin, I will do so with a picture and a few words for somebody very dear to me:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRAMMA! I can't wait to see you next, hopefully at Xmas time. It's been more than two years, and that is far-far-far too long...

FYI: this picture was taken a bit more than 22 years ago - though I remember taking it, and it seems like it was done so "only yesterday," as we say... My Gramma was almost exactly the same age that my mom is today; and my mom was exactly the same age as I am today... Whoa. Gramma & Great-Gramma were down around (maybe for?) Anne's birthday, as you can tell from the hanging, woven hearts above their heads, which we put up every year in February. Dad was beginning his career as a bookbinder. David (not shown, here) and I were teenagers. The Little Girls were still little. And now, we three girls are all grown up and bringing up families of our own! The more I think about it, the more my head spins...

YEA-EAH!

2007-09-22T15:44:00.000+02:00

Welcome to this side of the placenta, little Gretchen Leigh!
And a big round of applause and back thumps and chin ticklings and congratualtions to her adoring parents, Ellen & Donnie. What joy!

p.s. I'd've given you a better look at her blue eyes and dimpled chin and all, but I promised to wait for that until the reception of an officially bloggable photo (i.e, on e that has the stamp of parental approval).
Stay tuned!

Little Big & Funny Moments

2007-09-08T08:21:00.000+02:00

(07 September)

Today, Tomi came running over to me, holding out a drawing and crying: "Mommy! Look! It's Spiderman glisser on the slide!"

I nearly fell off my chair, laughing with delight.

Me: "I LOVE this!"
Tomi: "It's for you!"

Just so's you know: the slide used as a template here actually does look like this. It's a part of a small structure in our neighbourhood park that's meant to look like a wee mountain. And "glisser" means "to slide."

(08 September)

This morning, as I woke the chickens up, I called out, "Who would like to go and look at a house with Mommy and Daddy?!" to which a tiny voice answered, "I do!" from under the covers. I explained that we were (still) looking for a house for all of us, and Leo asked, "With a garden?"
Me: "We hope so!"
Leo: "A big one?"
Me: "Well... I'm not sure how big."
Leo: "Gramma & Grampa have a garden?"
Me: "Yes, they do!"
Leo: "A BIG one?!"
Me: "Yeah, it's really big!"
Leo: "With toys?" (read: things for boys to play on)
Me: "There are a few, but there's also lots of room so you can bring your own toys outside!"
Leo: "An' run an' run an' run an' run? At Kiss-muss time?"
Me: "Oh, yeah!"
Leo: (wiggles under his blanket, eyes crinkling with a big, sleepy smile)

The Return of the Gamma-Gampa!

2007-09-03T22:20:00.000+02:00

pre-script: I did start this on the 3rd, even if it's only going up on the 20th (our 4th wedding anniversary!)... Eek! Sorry, G&G. I plead Busy Working Mom.

A thoroughly good summer (if that's what you wish to call this strange, extended autumn that we've been having since mid-June) has now officially come to an end with the departure of the boys' beloved Gamma & Gampa and with those same boys' finally knocking off to sleep a few minutes ago - for when they wake up, they will be readying for their first day of their second year of pre-school. But more about that later...

...and back to Gamma & Gampa! Who arrived on the last day of the boys' summer school, about five minutes after I'd finished the first of the revamped S'MAGs and sent it all off to the printer's. We picked the boys up just as they were waking from their nap and readying for the afternoon's fun on the playground. They were still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, and it was terribly sweet to see them realise who was before them, at last. They immediately took their grandparents' hands and started talking up a storm with them. Mostly, the storm concerned pteradactyls and Batman and Leo's new-ish shoes (which never seem to lose their sheen for him)...

Their visit coincided with the end of a visit from our dear old pal, Agnès, whose departure for the southern climes about three years ago has been felt sorely ever since. Here're a few scenes from a day at the park with friends and family: Below are a few shots from our trip back to the Kehl train station, where there is a series of fountains to occupy people of all ages as they await their locomotive. Some take off their shoes to enjoy them (or wear water-walking sandals), whereas some... Poor little elf. (I felt a bit badly about taking this photo, and yet...)
And then, on Saturday, we headed into the Vosges, to a place called Hautes-Huttes. We had the love-r-ly company of Eric, Caroline, Fred, Dylan and Lara for the first two days, and beautiful weather to boot! The second of these two pictures is another from the four-year-old photographic genius, Lara. I am already a BIG fan of her work. And her dad took the first picture, which is one of my faves from the whole week:
If you look closely, above, you can see that Fred's taking a picture of us at the same instant that I'm taking a picture of the three men around the table. And (below) here we are in various states of readiness for the beautiful day's walk that was ahead of us.
From Sunday night to Thursday night, we were on our own, up to lots of trouble and hiking, hiking, hiking, eating, drinking, hiking, eating, drinking, rolling Yahtzee dice, reading, drinking, hiking, eating, hiking, hiking, hiking, eating, drinking, rolling more dice, reading, hiking, hiking... you get the picture.

Here are some scenes from a very foggy, romantic day's walk: Tomi pointing out one of the many patches of heather along the paths:
Some scenes from a day at the Bioscope:
A day of walking that ended with the women and children awaiting the men and the car (that they climbed that mountain behind them to get to - an incredible climb, and they did it in about half the time the maps suggested. We were aghast when they explained their route to us, later):
A day of walking that ended (again?!) with the men trekking for the car, Jean-Philippe's being led for two hours all over the windy mountain paths to eventually track us down, and Larry and Neil at the point of contemplating a call to the local search and rescue operation when we finally rolled in (it had been a thoroughly gorgeous day, though, and the fact is that we who were left behind to fend off the hungry bears were actually the most fortunate, in the end, as the valley we were in was one of the most idyllic that I've ever seen, and came complete with a fabulous inn where we could stuff our stomachs. It's a long story, though - too long for this blog post, which is becoming epic in length already)... Starting with Barb and the view from just above our house, where the paths began: Above, the boys learning the beauty of berries from Grampa. Below, a few of Leo's photos (the first one with a bit of help from his mom):An unsatisfactory picture of the valley in which we were held captive until sundown and one of Tomi busying himself at the inn:
And then we were joined by the Ovey clan from Thursday evening until we all made our merry way home, taking in a long and lovely lunch on the terrace of a wonderful place that we found by accident in Villé along the way...
Oh, and here's a photo of the height of most of the ceilings in the house - as Caroline said as we walked in the front door for the first time: "Oh! It's a Yerkes-sized house!" - and also a photo of the effect of those ceilings on the tallest among us (heh! heh!):
If it ain't already obvious, we had a really wonderful time, kids and adults alike. Definately something we will use as a template for future vacations. And I will never forget some of the images (not captured on film) from this Gamma-Gampa stay, like the moment that the boys saw their grandparents in the school hallway and those moments following, during which the boys so happily took their hands and began walking and chatting with them as though this were something perfectly normal; or the evening we spent teaching the boys how to hit balls with rackets (Grampa was with the boys at the bottom of the tiny hill, acting as "catcher" while Gramma and Mom (sans -my, now) stood up above and launched) as Jean-Philippe prepared supper and the sun began setting behind the mountain; or many-many others... But it's taken far too long for me to get this up, and it's a long one as it is, and so... despite the gaps and the omission of the sometimes hilarious stories behind the comments and pictures above... I now hold my breath and close my eyes and hiccup and hit "publish post" at the same time... (yikes!)

Brrrr!

2007-09-02T11:15:00.000+02:00

Before I (finally!) finish the blog posts about

1) summer visits of old friends
2) Gramma & Grampa's absolutely lovely visit
and our trek into the Vosges
3) the first day back to school, and
4) being green

I thought I would mention... the weather!

The weather? you ask.

Yes. The weather.

After two and a half months of autumnal summer (as in: it was like late September through October in, say, Iowa City) which began mid-to-end June, we have come to the beginning of September. This morning, all dressed for late October weather, in order to go house-hunting, I stepped out the door and was... COLD!

It was about 5°C. The sky was (and still is) a heavy, slate grey. And it almost got down to freezing last night.

I am still in shock.

...

2007-08-16T22:18:00.000+02:00

I've been sitting in front of my computer for ages, looking at this rectangle where I was hoping to be able to put down a few words that might describe the thoughts that've been swirling 'round my head these past few days. It all refuses to flow through my fingers, let alone settle on the screen...

So...

I went on a long - LONG - walk yesterday, taking those whirling thoughts, my sketchbook and a newly acquired copy of Over Sea, Under Stone with me. It was a hot day, one of the few hot days we've had all "summer." Walking into the first village in my path, I stopped for a drink on a canopied terrace, and let my mind wander, thinking of David, but unable to stop at one or the other memory point, just shuffling the images back and forth, looking vaguely for something I'd overlooked or forgotten before, but taking some comfort in the old images and films, the memory of the sound of his voice, his laugh...

I remember my first look at David, when he and Mom arrived at the airport, back from Ankara. Though actually, I have never so much remembered the look at HIM as the look at the cardboard baby box they'd given him to travel in, and wondering what a kid had to do to be given such a swank box to nestle in...

After the rest under the canopy, having walked much further than I'd planned and seen a panoply of beautiful wee sights, I stopped at a terrace that made me think I'd been transported back into the France of the 50s or earlier. You had to experience it to believe it. After a while, I opened up Over Sea, Under Stone, a book that easily recalls David, with whom I shared this collection ("The Dark is Rising Sequence," as it is apparently known, now), as well as other wonderful childhood reads. One would start a series, and the other would have to wait until (s)he was finished with the first and moving on the second. Mom would sometimes join in the scrabble to the finish line, and although we were fast readers, she had a clear advantage: an elastic bedtime hour.

I couldn't help thinking of Gumerry as a David-like figure. And something about Barney made me think of Leo...

David and I were always going on quests, looking for lost treasures, hidden passageways, secret messages. Thinking about it, the books we loved in those years were certainly a reflection of all of that.

Well... when we were all reunited last night, the boys asked to watch The Iron Giant, their obsession of the moment. When it got to the moment at which Hogarth tries to explain death to the giant, the boys were leaning in towards the screen, and you could feel their ears pricking up. Tomi turned to me after Hogarth said it and reiterated (in his own, sweet way) as he looked curiously at me: "It bad to kiw. It not bad to die." I had already caught my breath, and when he said that, I couldn't think what to do. The whole thing was making me feel a little bit sick, and even a bit confused. All I could come up with on the spot was, "It IS bad to kill - it's HORRible-TERRible to kill. But whether or not it's bad to die is a much more complicated matter."

And then, this morning, as Jean-Philippe came out of the bath, he looked into the boys' room, from which we could hear cries of glee, as per usual. I glanced up from my desk and saw a look of terror on his face, and then he was sailing into their room, where... they'd opened the window and were calling out to the people walking in the street below!

We had a long talk about danger and death and all, and the boys really, really seemed to be understanding, and even to be frightened by what they'd done. And then, towards the end of our spiel, Tomi smiled innocently and said, "Can I have some chocolate milk?" I nearly started crying.

Sitting on the terrace tonight, with my copy of The Dark is Rising on my knee, a tragic wave seemed to sweep through, and I realised that I've never missed anybody like I've been missing David. There is no describing this kind of loss, try as one might.

And it occured to me once again that the real tragedy is not my/our own, but all of humanity's. Every single day, someone is - or rather, many someones are - being torn from their loved ones, who are left to deal with it the best they can.

p.s. The photo above was taken in the autumn of 1973, when we were 4 and 1 1/2 years old. For David's 18th or 19th birthday, I tried to paint his portrait using this photo, but couldn't ever seem to get it right...

Time FLIES!

2007-07-31T18:35:00.000+02:00

I'm not sure where it's been flying to, but the space between blogs seems to indicate that time's been flying somewhere far, far away. Yikes! Anyway, since I haven't been able to keep up on a more regualr basis, here are a few photos - not at all in chronological order - of moments and things that've happened since our return from Tuscany...

We'll start with a few birthday pictures for/of/concerning my now-37-year-old sweety. Joyeux anniversaire, mon tchoups !
His family-birthday meal (almost entirely concocted by Chengy) was so delicious* that I'm salivating just writing this sentence. The first picture is the first course: (my) fig-and-ham rolls and Jean-Philippe's roquette salad. Then came the incredibly delicious (Jean-Philippe's) osso-bocco and risotto (seriously, you wouldn't have beLIEVED how delicious this was). And lastly, there was an amaretto cream-thing which deserves much more than my impaired retention of names suggests. Of course, we adults drank delicious wines with it all, while the bairns drank their apple-mango juice... Monsters, Inc. serves to pass the time as Chengy prepares dessert (& no, he's not preparing said dessert in the next photo. He's opening one of the gifts that we can't wait to taste... heh! heh!): Here're my three boys, not long before two of them were jamma'd and tucked in. I think the camera was set at 800 or 1600 or something, but it really was early evening. And pouring rain! So the light was low...*******
Here's a picture of my 5€ find at the end of the French Soldes (sales) season, and of the delicious Feta-Roquette-Pine-Nuts Pizza I made that night, and which is a part of my culinary comeback* of late:
* The trouble started in the kitchen on the very last day of the last year, as I was preparing food for our party; and the downward slope continued for about six months - ?! - until, very recently, things not only started perking up, but... well, I don't know how to describe it, exactly... so I'll just say that things have got Very Tasty around here. And it's not just me! Jean-Philippe's been bitten by the bug, as well!
*******
Our wee ones in their dining table tent, watching A Bug's Life (the boys were SO excited about this wee adventure; it was extREMEly cute to watch it all come together) and a corner of my presently favourite corner of our terrace, with one of my from-seed plantations (poppies): *******
And some scenes from our long weekend of camping, dancing, theatre-going and more in Bussang (in the Vosges) with Caroline and Fred and their two sweetkins...

When the accordian came out towards the end of our evening at the inn high up in the mountains above our campsite, Tomi began swaying happily in his seat. I asked him if he'd like to dance with me, and thus began a happy hour of dancing and laughing. Happy, that is, for everyone but Leo, who was utterly rejected by his beloved Lara:p.s. The man behind her isn't berating Lara for not dancing with Leo; he was talking to their table's resident dog...

I love this image of Dylan and his daddy - and also this one of Caro! Another couple of our personal faves: The second of these photos is one of many beautiful moments, watching my Tiny Tims at their favourite passtime, and the first represents one of the most beautiful moments I've witnessed in a long time. The background for it is long and involved, but involves, among many other factors, having a step-mom step in (& in the middle of a VERY complicated situation that had otherwise nothing to do with her) a couple of years ago... So anyway... Dylan was drawing (really swank) houses, and telling stories to go along with them. When we asked him to draw "his house" (as in: his dream house) he made a comment that it took us a while to catch onto. After a couple of extra seconds, we realised that he was actually talking about "himself" or his interior. Just as we realised this, he said that he'd draw his dad's house for us (in other words, "his" house). As you can probably imagine, we watched with not a little anticipation to see what was going to appear before our eyes. First, a kind of tree form... then a "strong roof, and nice, too" ("Ahh!" says the child psychologist in all of us) and then... a banana shape as a front window, about which he said, "This is Caroline's laughter, all around ..." and as he said it he was looking at the "laughter" and he smiled an utterly unconscious smile, lost for a moment in happy reverie. I don't know about you, but I think he's realised how lucky he got, when his dad met Caro... A couple of UTOs (Unidentified Tented Objects): A funny moment from the next (gorgeous) day, after having finally landed on Planet Wonder, at the top of the top of the top of Beauty's mountains: And some family photos, taken by our budding photographer, Leo: I would love to wax poetic on the inn that we found on this day, and the innkeeper, and the view and the food and the drink and the lovely time we had... (It was INCREDIBLE, all of it!) I would also love to linger on some of the other lovely little details of the past few weeks... But this has got to be posted. Otherwise... it will suffer the same fate as numerous other tries at posting over the past few weeks, which is: oblivion. As you can see, it's already taken me more than a week to get this one up (I started it the 31st, but it's now 7 August...), and so, with that: a very happy Tuesday (or -night, depends where you are) to you!
*******
To all of you who didn't take that bridge that day: thank you!

And to Jack: get well SOON!

p.s. A few good photos of our Prodigal Härry's two-day return are coming up next...

Presently Playing: Woke on a Whaleheart (Bill Callahan, a.k.a, Smog)
(Thanks for the idea, Amber!)

*******(end post)

And So! Two Months Later...

2007-07-18T11:47:00.000+02:00

And... where were we? Ah! Yes! Two months ago, we were still in Strasbourg when end-of-the-school-year activities began pouring in for two members of our wee family (les jumeaux) and work began raining down on the other two members (moi et le Chengy). It was a very-VERY hectic eight weeks or more. And then: it was all over! And we were on our way to Tuscany with six friends, big and small. The boys missed the very last days of school; Jean-Philippe missed a couple of important days at work; and the book that Muriel and I had jointly given birth to came off the press in the evening of our first day in Italy; but we'd left all of our hopes and worries and walnuts behind, and were beginning nine/ten days of beauty in the Tuscan sun...

Not before we'd tested the waters of the gorgeous Swiss lakes along the way, though. And then it was, "Ah! In Italy at last!" If you ever have the chance to visit Il Lago d'Orta, we all highly - HIGHLY - recommend it...
Bandits with their beverages...& innocent bystanders with theirs: This first night out in Lucca was short but sweet. We were serenaded at the outer gates to the city by an opera singer in full throttle in one of the flats looking over the park & parking area. Then, when we'd walked about 100 meters, we were waylaid by a wonderful seller of fine wines and meats and so on. He served us so well and so much as we chose our vino & victuals to take back to the villa for consumption over next few days that we could hardly get the (again: wonderful) three course meal down that we (accidentally - there was no way you'd've believed that you'd get a fine, three course meal for this price) ended up with at the wine bar, later!

Images from a day on the beach at Viareggio:And a sweet image from bedtime for the four bonzos that night:
A statue and her little girl at the gardens in a village nearby, followed by a scene from the pirates' taking over the situation a few moments later:
Scenes from Adults' Night Out in Lucca (having left the kids in the able hands of Sveva, the sexy lawyer-babysitter who can handle four English-French-speaking children under eight all evening with 10 words of English and 0 words of French):
While some went to Florence for the day, others went to Pinocchio Land. Here are the kids, making hats, and the lovely woman who helped with the stapling and such:And then, while two played the 3D Alice in Wonderland Memory Game, three went behind the scenes, exclaiming loudly, "WHY DON'T THEY TAKE THESE TWO, HERE?! THESE TWO ARE THE SAME!!" and so on... heh! heh!
While the other six lounged by the poolside, we four went up into the hills above our villa and discovered many's the treasure, including the place where we would go for the second of our two Adults' Nights Out: a gorgeous café & restaurant that serves everybody the same series of down-home Italian dishes every night, serves wine from the tiny village behind it, and serves you up a breathtaking view of the valley below, to boot. There are many reasons for which I'm hoping that we'll be able to get back to this area, and this wee wayside inn is most definately one of them...
The chillins exploring Barga in their own, special way; yet another magnificent pizza; and our pied prince(sse) of Casa Maria:
Last laughs in Lecco:
One last look at the lake:
And then it was home again! home again! jiggity-joo-ja (as Tomi would say)!

I realised, once we were home, that I hadn't got any pictures of the incredible villa that Clare had found for us. It was so amazing, so gorgeous, so... I wouldn't even know where to begin describing it, to be honest. The villa itself was an immense brick and stone structure, with huge rooms, including a kitchen the size of our entire living-dining-studio-area-room. Each couple and each pair of kids had their own beautiful room, and each room had its own bath. Outside, there was a dining and lounging terrace where we ate pretty much every meal made at "home." Behind this, there was a play area for the children, a washroom and an area to hang things out to dry. To our right, as we exited by the kitchen door, there was a romantic hillside garden which led to the olive tree groves and down to a pond, complete with palm trees and singing frogs. To our left, on the other hand, was a long, rolling garden, which finished at the swimming pool, which in turn was surrounded by olive trees and chaises longues, as well as a bamboo screen against the constant, golden sun. It really was hard to go home after living in this beauty for even a week, and after the fabulous meals, wines and wanderings we were able to do. I'm tempted to say that it was hardest for the children, who got along so famously, and who never tired of running and leaping and inventing new uses for plastic swords and new ways of encouraging adults to kick footballs around and lose against them. (heh! heh!)

And so: here's to Neil, whithout whose 40th birthday, none of this would have happened; and here's to Clare, who made it happen! Two fantasic friends who are great crack - and who are the parents of two fabulous kids ("Hear! hear!" say Leo and Tomi).

Back in the Saddle Again (?)

2007-07-16T23:41:00.000+02:00

Well... It's going to take a bit of time to catch up, but just so's you know: we were so caught up in work, school, life in general and then (at last!) vacation that we hardly had time to brush our teeth, so... so blogging was out of the question for quite some time. Even taking the time out to browse my favourite blogs was out of the question! Oy-yoy-yoy!

I've put a few pages of one of the things I was racing to finish (before we left for Tuscany on 29 June) up on my work blog - the one that I hadn't mentioned up to now, because I haven't had the time to get much of anything up on it, as of yet. Perhaps my mentioning it here will push me to get it up to par. Who knows? At any rate, you can click on My Other Portfolio, on the right-hand side of this blog space. At the rate I've been going with that site, Oh ! La vache ! will be in its #1 spot for another century...

Speaking of which: for anybody interested in a copy of Oh ! La vache ! there are still a few copies left, and we are selling them for 9 € apiece. And if you are interested in knowing more about the project and everything that went into it, please contact me, and I'll send you the letter that Muriel, my co-conspirator, wrote. Hopefully, I'll have the time to translate the letter into English in the next few days or weeks...

It's going to take several days to get even the slightest bit caught up, here, but here are a few images from June, if only to appease Gramma's hungery eyes:

Here's Leo drawing "A boy... a wrocket... an' a... a SOLEIL (sun)!" The boys've been peppering their phrases with French words, if they can't remember the English one, or if they're speaking too quickly. Often times, when Leo does so, the French word comes out sounding like a victorious proclamation. It's quite cute. The last picture is of him using their Mix and Match Animal Faces game. I wish I'd thought of this first! It's way swank.

Here's Tomi eating yoghurt on the sun-drenched terrace, wearing one of his many improvised Bat-capes. That was the day that we were talking about things we were going to do over the summer, and he asked me to make, "CORNS!" It took me until he stuck his fingers up beside his ears for me to realise that he was saying "horns" in Anglicised French. I promised him I'd do my best, but I'm thinking I'll end up going to the party/costume store down the way... The other picture is from the morning Tomi was posing all over the house and giggling, calling out, "Mommy! Look! I up here! You take my picture!" (Or, "I over here!" or "I under here!" or...)

Before I finally drag myself off to bed, I would like to mention that as I was typing this, a much-awaited storm (it went from a high of 14°C at the beginning of last week to a high of 34°C at the end of the week...) clapped its thunder and rolled through town. As the thunder ended, I could actually hear the rain begin waltzing down the street, from one end to the other. And as it did so, a lovely breeze wafted through the flat. A beautiful moment...

Greetings from Wonder(ful-Times-with-Ellen-&-Donnie-&-Sheldon)land

2007-05-08T00:08:00.001+02:00

It's almost impossible to know where to start, so I'll do so by a virtual underscoring the title of this blog post several times in red. & there you have it: we had a wonderful time with Ellen and Donnie (and Sheldon-getting-bigger-and-bigger). It all started on the 20th, when the boys spotted the Lufthansa bus and began running pell-mell towards their long-awaited meeting-up-again with their aunt and uncle (& cousin). The boys were way-over-excited and Ellen and Donnie were way-under-slept, and the day ended in Ellen's calling over her shoulder from the terrace: "Uhm... is this a common occurence?" When I peeked around the door, I saw the Belgian Manikin Piss boy aiming well and exhausting his bladder on one of the terrace stools. "Ah... no!" The boys were shuttled off to bed; the adults ate; the aunts and uncles scuttled off to bed; the parents packed... And the next morning, we were off! Arriving late-ish in the afternoon at our guesthouse in the tucked-out-of-the-way, charming village of Couches.* Ahhhh...! Just what the doctor ordered...

We walked alot the next day, tasted a few wines, and sat down at last for a few minutes at a Medieval-style fair at one of the châteaux (uh-oh! here it comes: "Oo-là-là-à-à!") in Meursault. We left there with our arms full of various products to make a lovely dinner, and rushed back to our cottage to eat, drink and await the results of the first round of the French elections... (Neither Jean-Philippe's nor my candidate made the first round, but we were infinately releaved to see that the choice would not be - as it was the last time around - between the right and far right. Jean-Philippe was sure that history would repeat itself; thus the joyful reaction recorded here. The reaction at our place last Sunday, however, looked nothing at all like this. More about such things in blog posts soon to come...)
The next day was spent idly, sunnily, with stops here and there, dolmens, encounters with cats (Ellen and the rest of us adults spent alot of time trying to teach the boys about respect for Animalia, with mixed results), dandelion wishes and - last and very much least - the worst meal... ever. (Heh. Heh. Uhm... I wish I could say taht I had nothing to do with this one, but...)
The next day was spent at Cluny. Another lovely day which ended with yet another evening of food and wine and the chirping of millions of insects & hundreds of birds, the near-by neighing of horses, the distant moaning of cows...

Spent the next day traipsing through Couches and the villages and countryside around it. We found yet more fine wines chez Prost, and had a great time talking with the proprietor and his mother - and the village boys, too (without whom we never would have found the matriarch, without whom we never would have found her son, without whom we never would have tasted of the family's fine wines, without which... Well, you get the picture). Ellen and Donnie did some fine dining in town that evening, while the B Boys and I lounged and supped on leftovers (which were - against all odds - better than they were in their original state, the night before) at the cottage. Looks like there IS some rest for the wicked, after all!

On Thursday, after a lovely meal in St.-Romain-le-bas (which, despite its name, is very high, indeed. And which is preceeded on the windy, treacherous trail up the mountain by villages with names like Evill and Vasten (Ge'lost). And which can only be got to by traversing Evill twice, losing your way in Vasten thrice, then crossing oneself with a garlic butter loaf and saying, "J'adore vos lapins !" several hundred times with your eyes askew. But I digress. After that lovely, fine meal in St.-Romain-le-bas) we headed up the mountain to St.-Roman-le-plus-bas... nah, just kidding. We headed up the mountain to St.-Romain-le-haut and found a church well worth its while, a romantic path and a lovely viewpoint. Oh, and that's St. Hilarious. Just so's you know...
Later, we found... well, we all found something to love at the (I forget the name) museum. Please keep in mind that this museum is housed on the estate of an impressive (ahem!) château. And no, that isn't a Black Lightning, but it's the next best thing: a Black Shadow. Or a Blach Shadow, whatever trips your ignition. And Donnie had just called to Ellen: "You got a picture of this one?!" When we got home, we let Jean-Philippe relax his driving muscles, as the rest of us chased cats, kicked balls & made a delicious fish dinner...
Spent a nice, lazy day in Tournus on Friday. Don't let the lack of images deter you: it's well worth your while! We dropped in on Hubert Chavy on the way home (sort of), got a mouthful of wine, an earful about his Cialis prescription and his run-in with the cops onthe way back to the house after his doctor's appointment, and a look into father-and-son relations 'twixt Chavys. In other words: business as usual at the Chavy vinyards. We're addicted.

The gig was up the next morning. The boys were desperate not to leave "their" Couches* - but leave it we must. And so! We were off to Fresse, with a stop in a wee-tiny village that contained a large, crumbling castle that was inhabited by a grumpy castle keep who sicked her dog on us and told her to come back after the lunch hour! Needless to say, we decided to keep our 16 Euro entry fee to ourselves and picnic on the slopes with a view to the castle. A gorgeous place, despite Her Grumpiness. Here are my companions, shading themselves in front of the dovecote.And here we all are, on our perches at the guesthouse in Fresse, enjoying a few moments of "quiet time" (after a not-at-all quiet, entirely frustrating, unsuccessful attempt to get the boys to take a much-needed nap...).
The road back to Strasbourg on Sunday led us to the foot of the mountain upon which sits our beloved, organic Entzheim inn. The food wasn't quite up to par this time around, but the weather was with us, the drinks were fine and the view was magnificent. We sat, idly eating, sipping and chatting, for three or four hours before heading back up the road to Strasbourg. A tempest was brewing in the north as we made our way down the mountain to our car and out on the open road, but we made it back just in time. Well... more or less. Jean-Philippe got caught in the lashing rain as he walked back from dropping the car off a couple of blocks away. He dried off and watched the boys that night as the other three of us went out and got the tarte flambée we'd been wishing for as a Farewell Dinner. Not one of the Best of, but worth the refreshing walk and the good talk.

And then... it was 6am, and time for Ellen, Donnie & Sheldon to head back to the Lufthansa bus stop. Snif!

It was understandably hard for the boys to understand that Ellen & Donnie wouldn't be able to just pop over and hang out with us for a while. For instance, the following scene, which took place that Monday at around 11am:

(Doorbell rings, boys jump up, laughing with glee, and dash for the door.) "YAY! ELLEN AN' DONNIE! ELLEN AN' DONNIE COME OVER!" After having rung the postwoman in and put the intercom receiver back down, I turned to them and began explaining: "No, boys, it's not Ellen and Donnie. They left early this morning to go to (their) home, but we'll be seeing them again soon. In fact, we're planning on seeing Ellen and the baby at Christmas!" After a few more, similar sentences were exchanged between us, there was a pause, an arched eyebrow... and then, "An' Donnie, too?" "Well, probably not this Christmas. He's starting a business, and it'll be hard for him to get away that soon. But we'll see him as soon as we can, we promise!" A look of shock and disbelief followed, and then a shout "NO! I SEE DONNIE, TOO!" The other one chimed in, "AN' ME, TOO!" Snif! again...

In other words: we're already looking forward to the next time!

And for those of you who haven't seen her, yet: Ellen wears her pregnancy like a field of flowers wears its butterflies. Lucky baby, to have those two as its lovin' parents...!

* Euh... for the French speakers among you, I feel compelled to add that after leaving Couches, we drove through Change to get to F(r)esse. There was many's the snort over that one.

これは余りにすばらしい!

2007-04-15T00:40:00.000+02:00

I just found a translation function in my computer... I think I could waste a lot of time with this one!

Eesserr Bahnny Wazz Hee-err!

2007-04-11T09:52:00.000+02:00

Yes, it is true: the Easter Bunny (a.k.a, Lapin de Pâques) was here. Again. And again. And again. And... I don't understand it: how do these children not get sick and sicker of chocolate when they are young? Gamma Barb would probably say, "But how COULD they?" And so: the world is divided yet again. Only this time, it's the Easter Bunny's fault.

Get this, though! That rabbit managed to get through our heavily locked doors, past the dobermen, over the barbed wire, and to plunk a mama-load of fine chocolates on our table - along with a couple of brightly coloured eggs (for good measure, I suppose). We'd heard him come stealthily in around midnight, so we knew it was all there when a stirring in the boys' room roused us from our muddled dreams. Jean-Philippe said, "Uh-oh!" And I understood implicitly. There was a shuffling, a pause, another shuffling, another pause, and then a tiny, almost inaudible, "oh!" It was Tomi. Things went silent again, but for Leo's slight snoring in the other room. There was a rustling. We jumped up, and... there he was, looking over the table top in awe, having seemingly touched the packaging of their giant chocolate chickens to be sure they were (not) real, and thus satisfied one part of his curiosity, then retired his curious fingers for the moment. This is the thing I have to ask you (once again) to "get," though: he waited! He waited for Leo to get up, then brought his brother over with a tug on the pyjama sleeve, crying out with joy, "Look, Leo! Eesserr Bahnny wazz hee-err! Loo-ook!" And then (more "getting" I have to ask of you): when I asked them to wait until they'd had their milk... they agreed!

After gorging themselves and watching us eat the eggs that they'd peeled and discarded (thoughnot without trying them out, once again, and saying, "Blech!"), we all got ready and set out with Eric & Joël for a walk in the Vosges. The weather was fabulous, the grass was green, the skies were blue, the breeze was a breath of fresh air; we actually found an inn that wasn't full up and was wonderful; the walk was refreshing (regardless of two three-year-olds' insistent demands to be "OP!") until the path suddenly gave out, and we were forced to fend for ourselves and, being a bunch of city kids, we managed to break Eric's sunglasses and lose Jean-Philippe's jumper in the leaping to safety over a river... We made it back tot he train station at the VERY MOMENT that the train arrived, hopped in, sunk down and began our laughing and sighing and the digging out of bottles of water (refilled in the bathroom of the posh hotel we'd had a drink in along the way), gummy bears, apples and carrots. The beer we drank at Eric & Joël's afterwards was well earned. It was a Very Good Day.

YIKES!

2007-04-02T09:04:00.000+02:00

Thanks to Betsy, for having a taken a Sunday stroll through Blog Wood, and for having left a comment on mine which made me realise that I'd published my half-done post last night - rather than saving it (to finish this morning)! A revised edition is available below...

A March Back Through...

2007-04-01T23:59:00.000+02:00

...a bit of the rest of the month of March:

First of all (though not - strictly speaking - first, since they came after the rest of these pictures were taken), a few images from the surprise and happy visit we were paid by Jonathan, Jason & Donna. Jonathan is currently living and studying just over the border, in Karlsruhe, and his parents came for a whirlwind tour of the area. The weather was wild, the conversation was fast-paced and good and long, and the hours sped by. I was so glad to see them - though they made me miss Jean and Jeremy and their little ones even more than I usually do - and that's saying more than something.
The first is a triumphal picture, after the Most Stubborn Cork in the World was successfully wrenched out in a spectacular father-and-son effort. The second is from our evening chez Kobus (a.k.a, ye aulde L'ami Fritz... snif! snif! The new location is quite nice, though, and certainly more spacious). And the third is from the Salon de thé Grand'Rue, where we had a leisurely lunch on the second day of their visit (Jonathan had left for Karlsruhe after dinner the night before).

This second picture is an example of one of the reasons I love my boys so much. They make me laugh and laugh...

...and laugh and laugh. Three of the next four pictures are almost entirely thanks to their Aunt Ellen, though she was a squillion miles away when they were taken. See... one day, Jean-Philippe was wearing the Lucky Lab t-shirt that she'd picked out for him (for Xmas, I think), upon which there is a caped, flying Lab. I saw the boys eyeing the t-shirt in their way, and waited them out, to see what it was that they were thinking. And it was worth it. "Mommy! Look! My! Ennen! Cat! Flying! Like dog! Like Dally t-shirt dog!" I looked. I saw: Tomi holding the apron Ellen had sent him for Xmas onto the back of the cat she'd given him as a welcome gift, when we arrived in Portland last May. He asked me to put it on the cat, so it could "Really! Fly!" Later, when the apron had fallen off for the three hundredth time, I asked if he didn't think one of their old bibs would work better, and he agreed, but on one condition: that I let him use the apron as a cape for himself. And so! Another obsession was born:
It's worth mentioning that the picture of Leo on the terrace was taken quite ealry in the morning. He got up, scurried over to their coat hanger, and began wiggling into his coat. When I asked him what he was doing, he responded, "My go outside! Play with sticks!" (I've mentioned this obsession in other blog posts...) Tomi, meanwhile, was "flying around" naked, except for his cape. He was forbidden to go out in the chill of the morning in such a state of (un)dress, so he thought about it and decided that it was just as good to stay on this side of the door and watch Leo wave sticks around...

I really like Jean-Philippe's "stolen shots," sometimes even when I'm caught in them (another recent one can be seen in the blog from Gampa & Gamma's most recent visit, of Leo running along the field). here are a couple from the street scene we stumbled upon on St. Paddy's Day:

And here are a couple from their latest obsession, which follows two film-obsessions of theirs, for Princess Mononoke and Robin Hood. One day, they began making crosses out of wood - leading, of course, to our imagining another kind of obsession, first. It took until they began "stalking" something and whispering "Ashikaka!"* for us to realise that this was a bow and arrow. They later started whispering things like, "Mommy! Dally! Shhh! Demon over there! My! Get! Demon!" and pointing us in the right direction, then "shooting" their "arrow" in that direction. On the day that they added Robin Hood to their list of characters, I happened to find a bit of string, and got what two little boys we know and love would call a "Great! Idea!" (If either of those words were to be found among their English words, yet...)

* "Ashikaka" is the boys' rendition of the name Ashitaka, who is the hero of Princess Mononoke. Anne-Sophie and Harald will especially appreciate this one, methinks...

GAMMA! GAMPA! COME OW-R HOUSE?

2007-03-26T12:00:00.000+02:00

Lots to show and tell, and many excuses for the ebb in doing so, but a ton of work my desk and a whole family of sickies are my very real reasons. The sick has more or less dissipated, and the imminent deadlines have been met for the moment, so... Eek! Here goes, starting with 28th February (or rather, two days prior to the 28th):

We all started getting sick about two days before Gamma & Gampa arrived - it was BAD - but 24a managed to rally the rabble and to get to the Nancy station on time. Baleful weather greeted us, and as we stepped off of the train, a crashing of hail began - to Jean-Philippe & my delight, though the wee ones weren't so sure how they felt about it, themselves. When we met up with G&G (who'd arrived about two minutes before we did) at the arrivals/departures sign, the boys smiled in delight and murmured their happy little greetings. I don't think they could quite believe that Gamma-Gampa were actually there, in front of them, in this stranger-to-them train station. We found our hotel with little effort, ate at a fake Alsatian restaurant, and turned in early, the better to be able to enjoy the sights of Nancy the next day:
heh! heh! The above are two of the most un-Nancy sights we could have seen there, but see them we did... & here are a couple from the archaeological museum - a real treasure:

The next day was spent getting to Saales by way of Épinal, where we took in the Musée de l'image. For those of you unaquainted with the images of Épinal, I strongly recommend a library- or Google-search...! And for those of you who have heard of Épinal's bad tourist rep, I recommend you make a stop the next time you're able, and decide for yourself.

By the time we got to Saales, the sun had set and we were VERY hungry. We settled for the first sign of eats we found, which made for three nights running of not-up-to par food - though the evening itself was a really lovely one. Here are the other five of us, on the way back to our digs. Speaking of which word: if Tomi'd seen the monkey paws we made of his feet, I'm sure he'd've dug it...:
The next day was a romantic, dark green and blue-grey one, with a lovely, wet walk and a night spent in, with homemade fixins, films and cards (Fluxx! at last!)...

The next day was like something from your memories of spring (in that way that you have to ask yourself, "Can it really be/have been that beautiful?!" Oh, but it certainly was!): luscious colours, sunlight streaming, shoes kicked off; lunch in the garden; a long, lazy walk through fields & foothills; the feeding of horses... there were tired boys, as well, of course... but we made it to the micro-brewery nonetheless that evening, well worn-out, hungry and THIRSTY! And THAT was our first fine meal "out" of the trip, I'd say. Oh, and the Big 'Uns tried to play cards after the L'il 'Uns got to sleep, but we only just barely made it...

Back in Strasbourg, we were ALL quite sick by now, but managed to do a bunch of things, including but not limited to an apéritif with friends on Monday; a delicious dinner at Caroline & Fred's on Tuesday; swimming at the municpal baths on Wednesday; a lovely dinner with the Jernites on Thursday (still minus Yacine!); and Friday's family dinner, at which we began draining the 5 litre bottle of DELICIOUS wine that Mr. Chavy had gifted us after our afternoon of tasting at his place near Beaune last September. Not only was the wine delicious, but quite frankly, this was one of the most delicious meals I've participated in in absolutely ages. We began with Renée's homemade kugelhopf, Dad's fresh-baked bread and artisanal sausage from the market and a Ruhlman Muscat; moved on to marinated fish carpaccio, baked cauliflower and Thai-inspired veggies and rice with cashew nuts, as well as the aforementioned Chavy white; then on to the shockingly good artisanal cheeses we'd found at the market that day; finishing it all off with (Dad's? Mom's? that's another story, actually...) Famous Peach Kuchen. My stomach is crying out, just thinking of it all... The boys had eaten so much all day, that they didn't participate much until the (Grampa's? Gramma's?) Kuchen came out, when they dug in like little feinds, exclaiming all the while, "Mmmm! Dis is GOOD! Mmmm! Mommy? More? Hhu-khen?"

Last but most definately not least, we took off for a couple of days in Germany, where my cousin Krista and her husband, Brian live (and work at two different AF bases, one of them at Ramstein, the other not far away). They were coming back from skiing further south on the day we arrived, but we'd found a lovely perch called the Bremerhof where we could rest and relax Saturday away, and await their arrival on Sunday. The grounds were beautiful, hilly, woodsy; the Biergarten was flowing and was full of things to keep boys happily busy; the food was good AND copious; the atmosphere was SO relaxing. We were well-rested by the time Krista & Brian arrived in time for a lazy lunch on the terrace the next day. We visited their lovely home; got to know "the girls" (who you can see below, wagging their tails); went for a gorgeous walk in the romantic hills around their village, and ate at a wonderful place called the Alt Landstuhl before saying our good-byes and returning to Strasbourg. It was really good to see their smiling faces and to hear their tales of the good life on their side of the borders. We're hoping it won't take a full 15 months until the next time around!

It was "Very. Sad," (as the boys kept explaining to me, as we walked away from the train station) to see Barb & Larry off the next day. But we've already got plans afoot for some time together in the Vosges at the end of summer - which carrot I keep holding out, every time the boys ask if they can go to Gamma & Gampa's house today, or any of the other versions of their asking to see them...

A LOT of various & sundry bloggable stuff has happened since Mom & Dad (a.k.a, Gamma & Gampa, Barb & Larry, Babs & Lars...) left on the Paris-bound train almost exactly two weeks ago. & blogging about even a feeble percentage of it is on my red list of things to do, though when and how much of it are questions that will only be answered when... they're answered. I hope you're all doing well and keeping happy. And if you're not at the moment, then I hope you will be, and a.s.a.p!

I KNOW! I KNOW!

2007-03-19T23:59:00.000+01:00

& I'm working on it! Much work and long, drawn out sick have made it a long haul, though. Hang on...

Anudder! One! or rather...

2007-03-12T22:10:00.000+01:00

THIRTY! ONES!

In my utter exhaustion, when I went back over February's important moments, I let iPhoto guide me. And since it didn't have a photo of Anne's 30th, she ended up getting... left out. ARGH! I suppose this has its advantages, though, since she now gets her own blog post - heh! heh! ...ahem.

As is my custom on the birthdays of the other five members of our family, I spent some quality time thinking about Anne on the 6th, going over the years, starting with the strange, confused memories I have of the (early!) morning of her birth... and then the the handing out of the Tootsie Pops at school that very day, and how proudly and carefully I recited all that had been related to me about her by the "indults" (full name, time of birth, weight, height)... and all the way up to the 6th February 2007. Here's to another 30 x 3 to come!

Here's a photo I love from Anne's third month in the world, and one that Anne sent from her 30th Birthday Breakfast. Both lovely Quanigan pictures - and I love the look Evie's giving her Cheerios, as though she knows that there is something coming that will be much more worth her while... And from all reports, it seems there was!

Some Summae, Eh?

2007-02-22T23:59:00.000+01:00

After a couple of weeks of intense hours of work-work-work, I have a small window in which to blog, catch up on emails and maybe even hang out an hour or two without feeling my watch burning a hole in my wrist, and so! here we go: a little bit about a couple of big birthdays, a word or two about impromptu gatherings, a few befores and their accompanying afters and other things great & small, bright & beautiful...

9 February was Pépé's 70th birthday, believe it or not! The family gathered at a lovely restaurant in a village nearby and spent the day (well, we celebrated on the 11th, actually) eating fine foods, drinking fine wines and toasting the birthday boy to another 70 to come. A lovely time was had by all and sundry, and even the babes dug (into) the delicacies with an apetite I doubt I've ever seen. Here're a couple of my favourite photos:

And 19 February was our wunnerful friend Neil's 40th birthday. A big, surprise gathering of friends was held at the Mensa that night, and once again, there was a fantastic time had by all - and not least by the man of the hour himself! Good friends, good fixins, good times... ahhhhhh!

A couple of impromptu gatherings were good food for the soul this past month. Here's a look at one that had a Before and an After. For the Before picture, everybody was supposed to look Very Serious. Or something like that:

Here are two sneaky boys. We'd told them that they could each take two cars to the park, but they cried out, "NO! LOTS OF! CARS!" and proceded to tuck a good percentage of their collection into their shirts - a trick that, once learnt, is never forgotten. Though of course, they don't get very far with it. Can't hurt to try, though, can it?

The boys were happy to have more Mommy Time yesterday afternoon. We celebrated with a mini-packet of gummy bears apiece and a long walk around the neighbourhood:

The walk culminated in a spirited exchange with a trio of quay-side fishers (funnily enough, they were drinking Fischer beers all the while), who gave each of the boys a Euro to do with what they pleased (which is to say, what their mommy pleases. And what would please their mommy would be to start a bank account for each of them, using this Euro and the three Euros apeice that a lovely woman - a stranger to us, too! - recently pressed into each of their hands when they met her in a bookstore. Gotta start somewhere; why not with a bit of Happy Money, eh?).

At any rate, when we got home, the boys were beat. Tomi didn't even last until the table was set. Leo managed, but it was touch-and-go. Dinosaur gazing helped:

Sleep is closing my eyes for me even as I type, but before it succeeds, here're a last couple of images for good measure:

Oo-de-lally! Oo-le-dally!

2007-02-08T21:54:00.000+01:00

A couple of my favourite moments of the day:
Starting with Dally's return home from work. I was beginning dinner preparations (which had been stalled by the boys' antics as we came home from the grocery store - mostly more running in circles and leaping over puddles) and the boys were playing Dinosaurs Eat Everything and Install Themselves in the Interactive House. When they saw Dally, Tomi said, "Saloo-oo-oo-oo!" ("He-e-e-ey!") and Leo thrust a dinosaur in Dally's direction, asking, "Toi veux jouer avec celui-là ?" ("You want play with this one?") I grabbed the camera, and... And later, Jean-Philippe grabbed said camera himself, after I'd caught Tomi ogling the ukulele and suggested a lesson. He eagerly settled right into my lap, and with the water for their bath splashing in the background, he strummed along contentedly... and he was GOOD!

Eats, Reads & Jumps

2007-02-07T15:13:00.000+01:00

We all LOVE Leftovers Tuna Sauce & spaghetti! (& the boys are now well-practiced noodle-spinners...)

& we had a really good day, yesterday, starting with this frantic, funny running and jumping over puddles after school. It was so hilarious that people were shaking with laughter as they walked by and tourists were snapping photos of them - and thanking us! ho! ho!

As for said reads:

It was difficult to get into CENTURY IN SCARLET, because the translation is so tiresome. The translation of The Dukays was quite lovely, and made a wonderful read, but this one... Of course, it would be better to read it in its Hungarian original. But given my present ebb of energy and comparative flow of things to do in any given day, I'm thinking this'll have to be put off for a... long time.

A recent RE-read was Jane Austen's SENSE & SENSIBILITY. I had read all of her works in one fell swoop about fifteen years ago, and had been meaning to re-read a couple of them ever since. Enter: the Arte Book Swap. (Thanks, Chengy!) Funnily enough, in the last month or so, several people have mentioned to me (without my prompting the subject, I swear!) that they're reading Jane Austen at the moment. A little cosmic breeze...

A GRIEF OBSERVED was a painful read, partly because it brought my own to the fore, and partly because it underscored several other, simlar thoughts & feelings, including the fact that there is more grief to come. Lewis' other (than the grief itself) and life-consuming point, though, is lost on me. I see no proof of God's existence in the face of such tragedy. The point is so feebly put forth towards the end of the book, that it is almost embarassing to read the assertion in Chad Walsh's Afterword that Lewis, whose mind was "trained ... to smell nonsense and fallacies and to destroy them by a merciless dialectic process," could believe that "Theism... stood up well under logical scrutiny."

I started re-reading The Screwtape Letters after A Grief, and found myself feeling (similarly) a bit embarrased by his style (which, at age 14, had seemed so brilliant), and even a bit frustrated by his simplicity and some of his (or rather, Screwtape's) assertions. I'm hoping that my Narnia re-reads won't be thus marred...!

Serious Thoughts, Serious Times

2007-02-04T20:45:00.000+01:00

First of all, some very sad news for a lot of folks our family knows and loves: Amber's father passed away a little over a week ago. Amber is a great gal and one of my sister Ellen's two oldest, best friends. She is also a fellow blogger, and so I can direct you to her own words about her dad, Jim Muller. I'm so sorry, Amber.

On another serious note, I heard from close family members that they saw my cousin Jack's National Guard unit listed as going on extended duty in Iraq. I worry about him every day - and also about everybody else in that country, of course, whatever their nationality, their creed or culture. But I don't know the rest of them like I know Jack; I didn't grow up with them; my boys don't wear the monster t-shirts anybody else (who is in Iraq) got them a year and a half ago... And every time I think of Jack, I think of his family, of course. Only, up until yesterday I could imagine that they were getting more and more excited for his return in a month's time. And now it looks like it'll be more like five more months. Ugh.

Also, some more recommended reading.

And a comment about a kind of person who I rarely have much to do with, but who sometimes find their way into just about everybody's lives: The other day, I ran into an aquaintence of ours. The conversation went fine until we were parting ways, and she looked at the boys and said in a surprisingly nasty way, "I wouldn't trade places with you!" I almost laughed. It was such a calculated, horrible little line. And she'd said it so that the boys could hear it! I might have found it slightly less twisted, were it the first time that it'd happened. But once before, and in similar circumstances, she'd said something even more pointed, and right over the boys' heads. It's hard to describe these situations (partly because you'd have to describe alot more about your dealings with the person in question, and that's not actually the point, here), but it made me pause. After all, being rude BACK is no use, and let's be honest: it's not even worth one's time or effort. Then again, being kind to the person doesn't feel like it is, either; especially when you've done that before, and it's done little or no good. So what do you do? I wish I'd thought of my grand old friend Greg's response to an extremely rude waiter in Lausanne, Switzerland: he just looked at the guy and burst out laughing. And it worked! As it was, I said I wouldn't trade places with anybody, myself, as I feel extremely lucky to be the mother of (these two) twins - implying of course that she had nothing to worry about, that trading places wouldn't be asked of her. There is another element to this story, though, and that is that you are (well, I am) left with a kind of sadness in your heart for the other person. How sad and angry must you be to resort to such needling?

Oops! The boys have awoken from their nap and are in need of hugs and noodles. More and happier thoughts tomorrow, perhaps...

THERE HE IS!

2007-02-01T22:30:00.000+01:00

We four went to see Hector in the flesh later in the evening (please see first of day's two posts, below). And what a beautiful baby we found - as well as utterly thrilled, magnificently content parents! He's sleeping well, eating well about every 3-4 hours, crying only a wee bit when he's getting a change... In other words, things couldn't have begun better.

I was holding Hector while the boys took off their coats, shoes and socks and even (eventually) their shirts (?!). When they were done, Tomi began prancing around, happily looking up at the little bundle. Suddenly there was a desperate tug at my sweater, and Leo's cry: "MY WANT LOOK AT BAY-BEE TOO-OO!" When Hector was brought down to their level for inspection, they were in awe, "caressing" him with their hands at a distance of a milimetre or two from his hair and his cheek...

Running, skipping, jumping, happy-bubbling back through the botanic gardens and towards the tram later that evening, Tomi took one of those spectacular twisting-almost-saving-himself-but-not-quite falls, during which you can't help imagining yourself as Plastic(wo)man, stretching that just-slightly-too-far distance to catch the child mid-fall. Alas, we lack super powers. Tomi got a big, fat upper lip from the fall, but! he also got a ride all the way home in his dally's arms, and lots of extra Super Love. So in the end, he didn't mind as much as he might have. Still, though, it was quite a sad spectacle.

Where's the Baby?!*

2007-02-01T11:05:00.000+01:00

This morning, the boys woke up with great difficulty. But before they'd even had time to call out, "MILK?!" (in that voice that makes you wonder how they could think, morning after morning, that you were going to forget?) Leo sat up straight and asked, "We see baby? School closed? We see baby?" and then, "Baby! Out! Laurence! Stomach! We see baby?"

See, yesterday we'd gone on a long winter walk in the afternoon (actually, we didn't get so very far - it just took a long time to get as far as we did, thanks to all of the sticks that needed picking up and waving and tossing into the river; and to the tens of school boys out on the art museum's square with their skateboards; and to the covered bridge that needed to be mounted... that kind of thing). When we got to the top of the covered bridge, the gulls all flew frantically away, but they stuck close to their perch, tooling around in the sky, swooping low over the terrace... Suddenly, Tomi pointed and cried out, "BIG GUW! LOOK!" It took me a few seconds to realise what he was talking about: the big gull was actually a big stork, gliding between us and the next bridge. It was astoundingly beautiful. In the weird three-year-old-twins-with-their-mom conversation that followed, I happened to bring up the legend of the stork bringing babies, & told them that they'd be seeing the baby the stork had brought the very next day, when we went to see Laurence & Guillaume. Afterwards, Tomi kept looking around, then looking at me in a concerned kind of way and asking, "Baby? Where?"

It's not so very often that the boys've shown a real understanding of concepts of time, so that was kind of a big deal. But it was an even bigger deal to hear an understanding of the concept of the baby's arrival. I'm still a bit shocked, to be honest.

A note to all who are interested in children's early years, and perhaps especially to those who are in the midst of them with multiples:
In the last couple of weeks, the boys have been making leaps and bounds out of toddler-hood and into little-boy-hood. It's been astounding and great fun to watch and to participate in - though it's also brought with it the trials and tribulations that this age is notorious for... x 2 (or more. People like to joke about twins being everything x 2, but to be honest - & whether it's the good stuff or the not-so-good stuff - it's more like x 3-5). We have SO much fun with them, and they are both SO unbelievably sweet and kind and delightful. But the three-dom of this two-some may nevertheless have me buying stock in Neurofen.

* This little baby game features in the film Ice Age. And we've seen this film several million times since it was procured...

POP!

2007-01-27T15:04:00.000+01:00

Our last sighting of Laurence & Guillaume sans Hector (on the outside, that is) turned out to be but two days before his birth. The docs had stopped the meds that were keeping their bairn on the inside that very day, and Laurence was up and about like a (big-bellied) bird in spring. We joked about the wee one arriving within the week, and... two days later, out he popped!

Oh! And get this! On the way to their house for lunch, we got off the tram and began crossing the path through the botanical gardens, when the boys spied a series of large tree roots that had burst through the concrete. Of course, these roots were an invitation to any small child (and many's the big kid, too) to go hop-skip-jumping. And of course, that's what mine did... until Leo missed a root and came tumbling down & straight into a fresh dog-dump. I whipped out a wipey and was hurriedly cleaning his knee - at the same time warding off his hand, which was frantically trying to caress his wounded, poop-covered knee - when the extremely handsome woman that we had passed earlier, and who had gestured towards us as she spoke with a colleaugue or a friend, approached us, bent down and said (in French), "I know you don't know me, but I know you... I mean, I feel as though I know you, since I've seen so many pictures of you on your blog! I'm Guillaume's mom!" I must've looked very confused in the lead-up to the last sentence; but a this point, I laughed and said, "That's too much of a coincidence! We're on our way to Laurence & Guillaume's for lunch!" We had a lovely wee chat and then parted ways, promising to be meeting up soon for more talk and a bite to eat, a drink to sip... and a grandson to wonder over...!

Another little wonder was born on Martin Luther King Day: Samuel Robinson Challu! His lovin' mom, Amy, was (along with her brother, Chris) one of David's and my first Iowa City friends.

Samuel & Hector are a couple of very lucky little guys. Congratualations to all six of youse!

"Mommy? This?"

2007-01-24T00:32:00.000+01:00

"That's snow, sweety! Those are snowflakes!"
"Falling, falling, soh-fake!"

That was a snippet from the conversation on the way home from school at lunchtime today. Then later, after supper:

"Mommy? My go tennis?"
"Erm... you want to play tennis?!"
"No! My go outside! On tennis!"
"Ah! You want to go out on the terrace?"
together: "YES!"

Yep. Winter arrived at last. And it's leaving its leavings still, as I type at 00:00 - hasn't stopped since it started, around 11:45! So beautiful... I love snow so much, not least (these days) for the added beauty it offers the view from our perch. And (ibid.) for the glee it brings out in small children:
After supper, we had a snow(ball) fight on the terrace and did some drawing in the snow with sticks. Also did a lot of stick-waving, of course...

Jean-Philippe and I have very different ideas about flash usage and other photographic details, and the result - aside from some interesting wee conversations and pictures, some VERY blurry or overexposed messes and a few jabs in the ribs - is that I've started taking several pictures of the same thing using each of the main modes on our digital camera, for experiment's sake. For instance:

Next morning, 24 January:
As Jean-Philippe made his way towards the kitchen to start the coffee this morning, he spied Tomi shuffling in before him. He thought that Tomi was looking for toast, but found the little urchin looking out quietly at the terrace. When Tomi sensed his dally behind him, he cocked his head gently and said with a little smile, "C'est marrant..." ("It's strange...") He was talking about the mounds of snow out there, everywhere:
The first is from last night, around midnight (after the boys' having chucked everything off of everything around 20:30); the second is from this morning, around 09:00.

When we finally made our way out and to the market late this morning - an endeavour that took an hour of getting ready and another hour to walk the 300 metres - there were but 4 or 5 stands! Then again, there were about 4 or 5 clients, so... Another hour and dozens of putting-the-mittens-back-ons, we were home again, home again...

Suggestions Addenda

2007-01-20T11:13:00.000+01:00

It has come to my attention that a few of the suggestions in my previous blog post needed a bit of extra explanation. But first! A couple of images from the other night, just before we prepared the boys for bed:
Tomi was reading through one of the boys' favourite books, given to them by GAMPA! just after their birth: a collection of many great children's sotries, illustrated by many great children's illustrators. But when he came to the images of the gestation and birth of a chick, he became entranced; and kept asking, "(What is) this?!" as he pointed to the various stages. Leo, meanwhile, wanted a posed picture of him with each of his growing collection of Absolutely Necessary for Bedtime and for Morning Milking Animals. Worm* won out in the blog selection process, but the funniest one (when it was being taken) was the Dinosaur one, because of the antics (opening the dinosaur's mouth, and ROWR!-ing); and the Goo-Goo Bear one was the sweetest, because he insisted on a few takings, in order to get the perfect image of his love for that little bear (a gift of his Great Aunt Peggy a tthe time of their birth)...

And now, back to the addtions to the previous post's suggestions:

1) The "special things" high up in one corner of the kitchen are things like juice boxes, chocolate, etcetera. They're things for "special moments" or when we're out and about, that kind of thing...

2) The cake with the crown is a Three Kings Cake. On the day of the Epiphany (the first Sunday of January - in France, at least), you gather around a cake with a small surprise baked into it. The person who gets the piece containing the surprise is the king/queen, and wears the crown for the rest of the day.

3) I'd also suggest that Pretend Soup not be given to a child before their third birthday (as Ellen did). Molly Katzen mentions that age as the starting age, and also that most of the recipes are really for slightly older kids, but can be done with extra help from an adult from the age of three. So far, we've done the pizzas, Zucchini Moons and Noodle Soup, and (although it is, honestly, alot of work when two three year olds go at it at once - and sometimes necessitates dividing the boys up for a few seconds & letting each one have his moment of glory while the other one has a window to get into the "special things" corner) they've all worked spectacularly, and the boys are really, really proud to have helped to make their lunch, supper or snack, as the case may be.

4) Of course, of course: hours after I'd blogged about the Jurassic Park incident, the boys were begging to watch it again. It was clear that they hadn't forgotten the "really! bad! boys" and "really! bad! dinosaurs," but it seems that didn't matter as much as I'd feared. (For instance, they'd be begging, and one of them would start talking about the events in the movie - as though to be sure that I knew what movie they were talking about - and say something like, "Really bad dinosaur eats one man! Breaks little house! Rowr! Yom! Yom!" referring to the lawyer's demise in the latrine.) In any case, we've put the movie away for now...

Here are a couple of images from last Tuesday's First Secret Session (hah! hah! More information later...), which culminated in a couple of cute moments between Marion and the boys. The third picture is a clearer image of (Tomi engaging in) one of the boys' lateset obsessions: stick gathering and waving. They are only allowed to do the waving "outside," of course, so the terrace has become more important to them of late...

And a couple of pictures of Tomi's artistic exploits. The drawing (which he gifted me after its creation. To do this, the boys sometimes lay their creations on my desk when I'm not looking. And when I ask about it, they say, "This (is) Mommy's," in a kind of shy way. It's very sweet) ...the picture is of a "little boy." You can see his pink arms. But what you might think are (somewhat insect-like) eyes are actually his ears. I figured this out later in the day, when Tomi came to me, distressed, with a "boy" he'd drawn and was cutting out. Sadly, he explained to me, he'd cut the boy's ears off... The second picture is of our first cutting accident. When he turned around with a cry for help, I found his scissors entrenched in his t-shirt! He'd been holding them close to his body for better stability, and the t-shirt got scrunched up into them. It seemed that he thought that if he didn't move and if I helped him, his t-shirt could be saved. Another very cute moment. (Oh, and that's hot chocolate that's covering his face. He was saving it for later.)

* Worm was a 1-year birthday gift from Ina & Jerry Lowenberg. He dethroned Goo-Goo for a while, but they now share that seat, and their reign is a peaceful and happy one. The lizard that the Lowenbergs gave Tomi is second in command to Teddy (a.k.a, Telly), and is often called (make a blathering noise with your tongue, something like:) "blah-uhl-ath-uhl," as in: "Mommy, my not find blah-uhl-ath-uhl!" ( = "Mommy! I can't find lizard!")

A Suggestion or Seven & a Wish

2007-01-11T23:30:00.000+01:00

First of all, I'd like to recommend a bit of reading.

Second of all, I'd like to recommend that you never begin watching a DVD'd series like 24 if you have any thoughts of working evenings for the coming week. Though it's highly recommended for those suffering from a severe allergy attack and unable to locate their adrenaline shot.

Third of all, I'd like to recommend cooking with wee ones as soon as they express an interest in it:
But if you have twins, do keep an eye on the one who's not cutting; look over your shoulder every once in a while and be sure that (s)he hasn't got up and into the hintercorners, where you store the "special" things...

Fourthly, and if you're thinking of following the third of my recommendations (see above), I recommend very highly the cook book that Aunt Ellen gave the boys for their 3rd birthday, Pretend Soup and Other Real Recipes. (If you click on that link, you'll get one mother's opinion of the book. If you want to compare prices online, you can go to epinions.com).

Fifthly, if you're king, I recommend you find yourself a worthy queen. And that you play Lavender Blue at your wedding ceremony. Which I recommend you hold on the first Sunday of the month of January, of course!

Sixthly, it has come to our attention - thanks to a small child at the Rheinschneck café and park in Kehl, Germany - that if you are lacking snow, you can always make gravel angels.

And seventhly (?!), we recommend very highly that you listen to your inner voice, and that even if your small children LOVE dinosaurs and BEG you to let them watch the hidden Jurassic Park DVD they've unearthed (hidden because you wanted to screen it before you decided what age you were waiting for the little ones to reach before you let them watch it )... well... you see what I mean. After having watched Jurassic Park, Leo and Tomi actually asked with serious, searching eyes if they could please watch a movie WITHOUT "bad boys." It seems they've come to the conclusion that the butler (Aristocats), the tortoise (La Prophecie des Grenouilles), the dog catcher (Lady and the Tramp) and even Malificent (Sleeping Beauty) pale in comparison with a tyrannosaurus or a couple of velociraptors. Actually, I'd agree with that assessment. Except, perhaps, in the case of Malificent. Still, though: she was only an animation. Velociraptors are REAL! RUN!

But back to the fifth, above: here's hoping Barb and Larry had a lovely, loving wedding anniversary together! (& if you're wondering why said fifth makes me think of their thirty-eighth on the fourth, I'm sure Barb & Larry will be happy to answer any queries.)

HeRe'S To a HaPPy PaSSaGe...

2007-01-10T20:05:00.000+01:00

...to all of you into this newest of years! It certainly was a happy one here at 24a. We had arranged things so that we could begin towards the end of the afternoon with the board-game players among us - & especially the young Dylans among us - & also so that people could come and go as they pleased - and as they could. Our address is a good one for such things in Strasbourg. But the adults were so blinkety-blinkin' up to their ears in preparations even at 5pm that (I have to admit) if I'd've been Dylan, I wouldn't have been impressed. However! we were so impressed with the little that we got to play of Dylan's game, Labyrinth, that we're going to try and reschedule THAT part as soon as possible. And let's be honest: for the rest of it, we can honestly say that we did it right!

We were especially happy for the presence of Clare's mom and of Assia & Mohamed; and also for the giant tiny dance floor that our wee ones inspired right around midnight. And of course, we were impressed by the city-wide fireworks display; and especially by that part that our friends, big and small, put on just under our windows. Lara & Eliza were eXtrEmeLy impressed, seeing as their big brothers were down there, after the clock turned, creating some of the havoc. YEE-HAH!

There were a precious few pictures taken, which meant that only a certain percentage of those who were there were filmed, in the end
(a few of the 9-12 crowd, and here's to 'em!). But there were several good 'uns (including the two above), and here they are:

Speaking of havoc: turns out that I wasn't the only one who thought that this year's city-wide fireworks displays were among the most impressive, ever - which is to say, of course, that they were also among the most dangerous to navigate. To begin with, there were more large, sky-spanning explosions. That was the good side. But there were also more danger-seekers, which (again: of course) meant more danger-avoiders (since alot of people are only awaiting the striking of midnight, the round of kisses and a last round (of champagne) to begin their way home. And that is also - and again, of course - the moment when the wreaking of havoc begins)... They were avoiding things like the triangular battle at the end of the street, which caught the groups who left at around 00:30 and those who arrived around 00:45 in their cross-fire. Oy!

And here is the biggest of the Xmas Corners, BEFORE and AFTER. The last of the revellers having departed around 4:30am, I slept until noon the next day. And accomplished this while the Beinert Boys Three slept the afternoon away... And HERE is to a wonderful Year 2007 to you and yours - and to everybody, everywhere. Would it could be so: peace on earth, good will to all.

...snif...

2007-01-05T23:21:00.000+01:00

I was helping the boys into their pyjamas after dinner tonight, while Jean-Philippe washed the dishes. We'd promised the boys we'd all watch a movie together, and they were really excited, partly because we'd told them it would be a 'big kid' movie (Inner Space, as it were). It had been a perfectly lovely day-into-the-evening; the boys were all squirrely and jabbering away... I don't remember exactly what thought/memory set things off, but suddenly (quite seriously: it was like being struck by lightning, blinded for a moment, bowled over) I was hit by this series of memories of and thoughts about David, and tears started falling with no warning at all, fast and hard. Leo was standing over me with his hand on my shoulder as I helped him. He ducked his head down and said, "Mommy? Crying?" When I said, "Yeah," he bent down and tenderly encircled me in his arms, then kissed my cheek very softly and went back to hugging and hugging me. Tomi leaned over and gently put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Mommy, don't cry." A bit later, they asked me why I was crying. I think they sort of understood. Whether they did or not, I feel... well, you can't really put this kind of feeling into words, can you? So I won't. Except to say that I would never have believed that I could love them any more than I already did - but I was wrong.

(a few final words & pictures from 2006...)

2006-12-31T12:00:00.000+01:00

...before I move on to New Year's Eve and the beginnings of this newest year. So much was going on during the month of December that I couldn't keep up. Thankfully, things have slowed up since. But more on that in a blog or two...

Here are a few from the Arte Xmas Party. It was Jean-Philippe's idea to stage it under the big top (or rather, under three of them). His ideas over the past few years have brought a new dimention to Xmas parties for Arte. Frankly, he amazes me still, after all these years: so quiet and unassuming, but with an imagination and a sense of the wonderful that have no bounds.

Here are a couple from a soirée arranged at Eric & Joël's, so that we could all hang out with his brother, sis-in-law, niece and another friend - all from Marseilles and all very swank. It was a great evening, to say the least! In order of appearence: (1) Where's the teddy? (2) Their next album cover (3) Hide 'n' Seek (4) Strangers in the night?

Here are a few from a soirée held at Caroline's place. The best pictures of the night are these four, which is something of a shame, because their other friends that were there are not only too swank, too ("too" = see above, chez Eric & Joël), but are lovely-lookin' ladies and gents. Next time, next time... For this feast, a hunter-friend of Fred's had caught a wild boar, so he roasted the leg he was given and whipped up some spaetzele to our collective delight. It was divine. Then again, Fred's cooking (and Caroline's) is always divine.

Here are the boys on the bikes their Mémé & Pépé gave them for Xmas. They were pros within a half an hour (well... okay, there's still work to do. But they FEEL like pros, and I ain't gonna take that away from them)! Biking is tiring work for beginners, though... Anyway, they now have another obsession to add to the list!

This was a stuffed animal holder that Tomi constructed with giggles and vigour; and the Xmas trees that the boys constructed at school:

Here are some sweet moments at play...

And the lunch crowd, assembled in front of our favourite food & drink stands in the Place Broglie section of the Xmas market:

Here are a couple of photos from 100% Locally Produced meals we had at home in the last days of the year 2006:

And lastly, here are a couple of images from an afternoon we spent at a new café that's opened on Rue Hannong, La Tarte aux Billes. You pay a set sum (6€ for big kids & 4€ for wee ones) and you receive a sweet or savory something to eat, plus a drink to sip - and you can play at any or all of the great games they have on shelves and stacked in corners and on the window sills for as long as you like. The fun stuff for 3/4 year olds is upstairs, so we collected a few big kid games downstairs, then headed up to where all could share in the fun! The muffins were a hit with the boys. So were the play farm and the car-pet (get it? huh? ho!). the big kids played a kind of fruit War and then a couple of rounds of chess. We hadn't played this last in three years! Though I suspect that Jean-Philippe's been honing up behind my back...

"Boys, guess who came last night!"

2006-12-27T23:36:00.001+01:00

"Fa-durr Kiss-muss?"
"YEAH! And what do you think he brought you?"
"Uhmm... chocolate?"

After this exchange, the boys ran out and attacked the tree. We asked them to do us the favour of posing for the Before picture, which they did, though reluctantly. See, they'd already shaken the box of Jelly Bellies that Ellen had sent, and it didn't take more than that shake for them to guess its contents. See below, first series:

Unfortunately, we had to do the opening rather quickly, since we were all late in getting up, the house was still a mess from baking and the boys' antics of the previous day - and the rest of the B family was arriving "any moment, now." Fortunately, though, we ended up having a few minutes to revel in the lovely contents of all of that packaging before the second of the three parts of the day began unfolding.

Unfortunately (#2), when the rest of the extended B family arrived, it was sans Tanti Théma and Cousine Ariane, the latter of whom had come down with something that included fever and her first asthma attack* the night before. Poor wee one. Fortunately (#2) though, the fixins were fine, the wine flowed freely and the grey stayed outside while the festivities raged within. I wish I had pictures of said fixins to share, but I was too busy partaking to be taking. Still, I don't mind mentioning that Mémé Renée brought her heavenly homemade fois gras, which went wonderfully well with my homemade Pain de mie (a.k.a, Pullman Loaf).**

An aside: among other treasures, the boys got a doctor's kit. When they realised what it was, they cried out, "Jernite!"*** before busily going about playing doc. I was a bit mystified at first by their sticking the syringe in our mouths. And then it dawned on me: the play syringe looks more like their liquid aspirin ones than my insulin ones! I explained it to them, and they get it, but still sometimes prefer to "give us aspirin" with theirs. Here's Leo, on one of his first proper goings at it:

Oh, and get this: each of us got an apron for Xmas, from three different couples! Jean-Philippe got one from the Oveys, the boys got theirs from the Kotlers and I got mine from the Larsons - all totally different and absolutely fabulous! I hadn't got mine by the 25th, but you can see (me wearing) Jean-Philippe's in the above two pics. We just got the other three tonight, and they'll soon be making their way onto these pages. More on other wonderful gifts will also be coming, and soon...

The third third of Xmas Day began as the second third was reluctantly petering out. A few friends, on their ways to or from their family festivities, stopped by for a last bite or sip. It became an epic undertaking for two of them, though. Manu and Candice rang the doorbell and walked in the downstairs door around 6-ish, and the phone rang two minutes later: they were stuck between the first and second floors! Ever-so-luckily, Damien d'Otis (as he styled himself - Otis is the elevator company) was able to come by within a half an hour. And to thank him for this (as well as for once having saved a beloved frog of Tomi's from doom when he came for a routine elevator check-up), we asked him in for a round and some tall tale telling.

By the time I talked to the folks in Portland, I was half asleep - but awake enough to understand that Ellen and Donnie were sick in bed, the fourth and fifth victims of a bug that Barb, Anne and Evie had all succumbed to in previous succession. Crikey!

* Our boys had their first when-sick asthma when they were about the same age; seems it runs in all three families.
** I am fast becoming a yeast-bread-baking addict, ever since my debut last week...
*** Our friends, Assia and Mohammed Jernite, are also the boys' doctors. I used to make the difference between going to their house and going to their pediatrics office by referring to them as the Doctors Jernite when we were going to the latter, and by their first names when we were going to the former. It seems this usage is still stuck in the boys' minds, though we adults don't use it any longer.

Ho! Ho! Hi-dee-do!

2006-12-24T23:59:00.000+01:00

After 36 hours of cooking and baking...

24 December > Chrsitmas started out in salmon & style with Neil & Clare and their bambini (+ another family they're friends with) at their place. My Stilton paté seemed to go over well; the coquilles St. Jacques were absolutely fabulous; the stuffed, baked salmon was heavenly (Leo even asked for, "More lots of fish?" several times - and he got it!); the leg of lamb was, too; the fine 'n' dandy drinks were thanks to the Oveys' neighbourhood wine salesman, who never fails - ever; the seven kids were great fun; the cracker-guns were hilarious... what more can I say? Aside from, "Many, many, many thanks to the chefs!" Oh! And it was also Felix's seventh birthday, so: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FELIX!