GAMMA! GAMPA! COME OW-R HOUSE?

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!

& 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...

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?

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!

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

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

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!

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?!*

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!

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?"

"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

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

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...

...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.