Mommy! Big! Birf! Day! (or... Big Barfday?)

23 September > Well, it all started out so well! We arrived at our inn in the Vosges - a little farmhouse built into the mountain on one side of the village of Trois Épis - at 3pm and settled in, had a small picnic in their garden, and went upstairs to our comfy, farmhous-y rooms to try to get the boys to nap and wait for... what?!

The bells tolled five and there was a knock on the door. Jean-Philippe answered and I heard, "Mrglumphanrrmassageahnoopalrghmuhn..." Whoa! And what a massage it was! TWO HOURS LONG and so-o-o-o-o-o magnificent, so exactly what I needed at this moment. Also, nothing could have better prepared me for the direction things turned later that evening...

That evening, the inn was putting on a dinner devoted to the micro-brewery beers of Alsace. There were a squillion courses, and each one was paired with "its" beer. Things were going well. Perhaps too well?
Because not long after the second course was served, Tomi emitted a wail and... everything he'd eaten that day. Or so we thought. Luckily, we were the only people on the terrace, which joined the other two small rooms, but offered a corner for the boys, where they could play while the rest of the restaurant beered and dined. This also meant that when the curtain began dropping on our evening, the show could go on virtually uninterrupted for the others. In any case, Tomi assured us that he was fine, and that he wanted to go back to the table. And when the third course came, he lost it again. And then again. And so... Jean-Philippe went up with Tomi while Leo finished his supper and our kindly hostess and I put together a platter with some of the rest of the fixins to bring up and get down when the boys were in bed.

& later that night, after we'd finished our dinner and I'd opened my gifts (frankly, it hadn't occured to me that there would be any openable gifts, after all the rest. But that don't mean I refused Richard Thompson's 1000 Years of Popular Music or Enzo Mari's Jeu des fables. Huh-uh! No sirree!), we drifted off to dreams, until... BLORK! BLORK! BLURK! WAAAAAAAA! & it was Leo's turn.

24 September > & in the morning, the boys were just fine! But then again... Jean-Philippe wasn't. For the first time in his life, he ate nothing and drank but a cup of tea for breakfast. It had to be bad. So I couldn't figure out why he was so adamant about getting us to the inn he had reserved for lunch that day, somewhere in the Vosges above Riquewihr. Until we got there, and the woman asked how many we had reserved for, and Jean-Philippe murmured, "Ehm... about 20..." with a sidelong glance in my direction. Ahhhhh...!

Here are the wee ones: Elisa & Felix, Leo & Tomi, Lara & Dylan

As part of the party moved outside after the copious lunch...

...another part stayed inside to help keep Neil's spirits up until he was finally served a truly vegetarian dish. He had asked if the munster tart had any meat in it, and was told, "No - none." It came filled with bacon. We explained the situation to the waitress, who said, "Oh, there's really not that much in there!" We had to insist.

Dylan does the Ninja Shuffle as Leo takes out the topiary...

Elisa, Caroline & Anne-Sophie pose:

Clare, Caro & Fred, Marion & Manu:

Guillaume & Laurence (& Pacio), Clare & Neil, Candice, Joël & Anne-So:

The portrait contest begins (that's Eric on the right hand side):


& here is "ellybolly" (Leo & Tomi Speak for "everybody"):
Hm... just realised that Dylan's missing. Where'd he go?!

& here is a picture from the way home, after having spent 7 fantastic hours at the inn:

& last but certainly not least:
Squillions of thanks to ellybolly for everything ( !!!! ), and especially to Jean-Philippe, who planned it all and couldn't eat many of the fruits of his labour. Snif! One of these days, I'll find some way of making it up to him...

p.s. Monday night, it was my turn. Aack!

Inside & Out

We'll be leaving in the morning for a mystery birthday weekend (well... it's all a mystery to me! All I know is that I'm to wear one set and bring another set of comfortable clothes. And my toothbrush), but before we do, I wanted to share a couple of photos from this week - photos of a couple of the little details that I like in my life here, inside and out:

One of my favourite little domestic sights (aside from my three Beinert Boys, of course!) is a bowl (or a basket, in this case) of brightly coloured fruit. This is from the other day, after having unpacked the market's pickings. I almost felt badly for digging into the plums after this picture was taken...

And below is an idea of one of my favourite corners in our home (& yeah, it's especially favoured when it's holding gladiolus, if that ain't obvious. heh! heh!): the dining area, which often doubles as a studio space. When I brought out the camera, it happened to have elements of both of its primary uses on it at that moment. & the second half is of the view from the windows. My desk is in a corner just a bit further back, and it's always nice to be working there or at the table, and to look out at this strange view, whether it be morning, noon or night. Unfortunately, my favourite chair didn't make more than 2% of the cut, but it's (just barely) there, too. And the corner of my pile of music books and gadgets indicates the guitar corner just outside of the camera's scope...

A very good early autumn weekend to all!

Gladiolio!

On Wednesday, the boys and I went to market, to market, and who did we see? But of course: Marion! Although we see Marion in all kinds of places all the time, and although we often see other friends and acquaintances at the market, the boys have decided (with some justification) that Market = Marion. So when we start off for the market, they start asking, "Mm...? Ehm...? Marion...!" And today, they were proven correct. We had coffee & juice at our post-market Stammtisch* afterwards, and then Marion walked us home. And here, also, are the gorgeous just-opening, velvety-deep-red gladiolus that Marion had stopped over with the night before (along with our just-off-the-stove supper, though you can only see the meaty part here. The other parts have closed in on the gladiolus, perhaps out of fear of a future flash).

And here are our wee boys, who, having decided that they are actually Big Boys, decided as well that they would eat at THEIR table that evening...!

Leo had his First Day Back at School today. And it went oh-so-well! Which isn't as surprising as it might be, considering that he'd been seeing a Very Well Tomi take off and come home Very Happy from school for days. Leo actually started asking on Sunday night if he could go back, too... And now he can! Here they both are, walking home at lunchtime and taking in all of the shop windows along the way:

* Stammtisch is a German (& an Alsatian) term, meaning the table where the regulars (of a café, bar, bistro...) sit down to eat, drink and/or be... well... be themselves, actually.

Old Friends, New Circus

This last one was a weekend in which we did very little, out of the necessity that sick wee ones bring, and yet even that little that we did was more than enough to wear us all out, though happily.

After Friday's group parent-teacher meeting that lasted much longer than the hour that they'd planned, and which revealed engaged, swank teachers, we had a delicious dinner with Caro & Fred until Tomi actually started getting us ready to go, explaining that it was time... hilarious! Leo'd been sleeping since we'd begun eating on a matress Caro had put out especially for him. Unfortunately, I didn't have the camera for this part of the evening. However... after we'd got home and got the kids in bed and were beginning to wrap things up ourselves, I got a phone call. Caroline: you forgot your insulin on the counter! Luckily, they live on the next street over, so five minutes later:(The two late arrivals, Antja & Nadia, followed by Caro, Fred and li'l aul' me)

The next evening we attended the opening for the Théâtre Jeune Public (http://www.theatre-jeune-public.com/): New Circus!* The boys LOVED it, though Leo started lagging just about the moment we arrived. Tomi was clapping wildly and thought the sketches were hilarious. Leo lay down comfortably on his dally's knee in their front row seat and smiled - and every once in a while the next day, he'd look up and say, "Cer! Kuss!"
(In the 2nd of these three, Tomi had just asked me to be sure that Teddy was in the picture; & in the 3rd, he's doing a kind of blues-y dance in the buffet tent afterwards...)

After the circus, the boys went home, and I swung 'round to the opening party for a new, pocket-sized cultural agenda that some friends began this autumn. I'm doing a sort of graphic novel/cartoon page for each month's edition, all of which takes place in our favourite Strasbourg tavern, La Hache (mentioned earlier on this blog) - and so I'll leave it to you to guess where the party was held...! From the look of things, a good time was had by all.

Ah, and here's a wee look at my favourite corner of the terrace, which has done extremely well over the past summer, despite the weird weather patterns and my forgetting fertilizer. Some of these plants had done very badly at the end of last summer, but we brought them in and gave them all the encouragement they needed, and now...
Oh! And Tomi is now officially a "Big Boy." At any rate, that's what he'd have us believe. And now that he's a "Big Boy," his shoes are "Big Shoes," his jeans are "Big Jeans"... etcetera. He loves school. He's excited to know that he'll be going the next day as we tuck him in to bed, and he's so proud when he comes out of the classroom at lunchtime. He smiles at me (well, us, since Leo won't be able to go back until the runs have run out of steam... ugh. Sorry) as he comes out and goes straight to his peg and lifts off his backpack, shrugs it on, and then - only then! - comes over to give me a hug and a kiss.

* New Circus is super-inventive, super-funny & sans animals - that is, unless the circus members decide to act the part of the animals!

Sicky Sees Sesame St. & Then Some

So! About six weeks ago, the boys (more or less accidentally) turned the telly on. And since everything was wired correctly (this is another story altogether), they were immediately able to see the results of their button pushing. And what whould be on at that hour? But Sesame Street! Cows! SESAME STREET COWS! This had the instant effect of their thinking that TVs always had cows on them, which was quite funny while it lasted.

The thing is, that neither of us is much of a TV-watcher, excepting Arte, the news & films. We hadn't exactly been trying to avoid TV for the boys' sake - we just don't have the TV-turning-on reflex. But now that the boys've seen cows and cars and cats (this last thanks to a hilarious Japanese animated film that we bought... erm... for them?) on TV, they are enthralled with it.

So... when Tomi was so ill earlier this week, I let him watch Sesame Street for his second time, and... And now I have the anwser to a question that several people have asked us over the past couple of years, namely: How is it shown Over There?

I haven't taken the time to look into the whole history of the thing, but a version called "1, rue Sésame" seems to have come out for the first time about five years ago. The version we have now, though, is called "5, rue Sésame." Both are co-productions (with the Sesame Street people). It's filmed (at least in large part) in French, with a French Street and French versions of everyday details. You may or may not be able to see in this picture that the modern-day Mr. Hooper is in front of a store with a sign reading, "Épicerie," for example. The documentary elements are at least in part filmed in other countries or regioins where French is spoken. Haven't yet seen enough to know whether they do a second language part...

Otherwise, here's Tomi on his first day BACK at school, in front of the fridge art he and our friend Manu put together last night, just before Leo puked spectacularly all over Manu, among other things and people:

And here are our boys, after Leo and I picked Tomi up from school & after they'd taken the elevator upstairs and back down all by themselves, giggling hysterically the whole way. This was the third time they'd done it, and although I should probably still be worried that they'll get their fingers pinched in the doors, even three hours later, I am left with the ticklings of a belly laugh that their rascally, happy laughter brings up every time they do this... p.s. The Martian green spots on Leo's jeans are the result of a second puking, as we bought t.p. & victuals on the way home from school... Ugh.

Yoms & Yawns

Jean-Philippe has been rattling the pans and stirring in the pots again. I love it when he does that - and so do the boys!

The school schedule has my boys taking three hour naps and actually (--NO!--) (...yep!...) asking to go to bed at around 8pm. Again: (--NO!--) (...yep!...) Or maybe this scene is more a result of the other thing that school has brought us: sick days. And so soon! Ah, well...

Beauty & Being

My ex-husband once said, when asked about happy childhood memories, that he had none. "None?!" "No; the fact that happy things that have happened are forever in the past makes them irretrievably sad. And nothing can take that tinge from them."

This is one way of looking at the subject.

Actally, I understood his point - and can probably sympathise with the idea more now than I could then. In any case, in the midst of things and thoughts, this conversation came back to me last night. After I'd been woken up urgently to change sick Tomi's diaper (it took the both of us, Jean-Philippe and me, to get things back in order and our little one back into a clean bed) and then been no less urgently called back out of bed again to play the guitar for Leo, who had woken up in the interim, pleading for the "dih-car!" and as I tried - for a long time unsuccessfully - to reagain sleep... as thoughts and emotions began tumbling.

To a large extent, said thoughts and emotions were brought roiling to the surface by an unexpected email last Wednesday. Our mutual friend, Dave Caliger, had written to tell me that David Henderson's father, Vaughn, had died on August 25th. It's hard to know what lead to take from this point, because there are so many. But I'll begin with the fact that as I read Vaughn's obituary on the Lensing site, I was utterly overcome by the love that had gone into its writing. I believe that David H wrote it; he certainly had a loving hand and heart in it.

To make an unending story ridiculously short and more to the point, I think that it would be fair to say that last week and last night's thoughts could be boiled down to several categories, and that the most abidingly important of them is:

The Beauty - or Beauties - of Being, & why we do better to concentrate on that/those above all else (and less on the negative sides of life, for example). Further reduction obviously boils down to the oft-repeated "we only live once," and also to the idea that if we must leave this life and those we love in it (and unfortunately, so unfortunately, we must), then we'd do best to leave some good behind, even if it's mostly good memories. After all... if we've left those behind for others, then we've undoubtedly left something even better, though it may not be physical or have a name.

Vaughn left a beautiful skein of "things" & memories for his family. And although he may not have imagined it, he left a friend of David's a line to a beautiful school of thoughts & emotions. Thanks, Vaughn. & thanks, David.

Beaune &cetera

The long & the short of the Beaune &cetera Adventures is now up in full!

But I do have a preface to make, concerning a question that several of you have had, as to Leo's most recent haircut: Yep, he had it chopped clean off. But that wasn't the plan. It was just that the hairdresser (yeah, yeah, I know, I know: but we just couldn't take it any longer. You wouldn't believe what the thought of a haircut does to these boys. We can't believe it, either!) ... the hairdresser was so frazzled that it was the only thing she felt she could do. It was shocking at first. But it's growing out, slowly but surely... as you'll see soon!

In any case! Here's (to) Beaune et al (!):


We spent a gorgeous 9 days going to, being in, being around and going home from Beaune (France) with my parents, from 26 August to 3 September. Unfortunately, as is often the case, having a great time had as one of its consequences that few pictures were taken that aptly illustrate the beauty of the surroundings or the good times being had. Advanced apologies for being somewhat short on the illustrative side...

26 August > We take off at last around 10 am in our filled-to-the-brim (with people and possessions alike. I had a guitar leaning on me the whole way there and back!) tank, direction > Beaune. We get there about a million years later, at 5pm. We set off in search of the Jernites (friends from Strasbourg; some of you may have met their swank 16-year-old twins, Salim & Kenza, when they were staying with Barb & Larry this summer). Having found the Jernites, we set off in search of a restaurant:


Then, having driven half of the restaurant's clientèle off with the antics of two overly tired and stimulated 2-yr-olds (only half kidding, here) and having eaten delicious foods and drunk fine Burgundy reds, we head home for a well-earned night's sleep before...

27 August > ...taking off with the Jernites in search of more fine foods and wines. Which we found, of course, and in abundance! Visited the Château Pommard, where we adults tasted wines and the wee ones devoured several bottles' worth of grapes, under the kindly eye of the tour guide...

Ate a fantastic spread in St. Romain. Here's a look at the poached egg starter I still dream of:


Tasted wines at Hubert Chavey's domain. Mr. Chavey is a generous man who makes wonderful wines and sits you down wherever you like in the various corners of his estate to drink them... with him! Little actual tasting done; more like swigging. When we left (reluctantly, to say the least), he asked what year the boys were born; disappeared a moment; and brought up an enormous bottle of 2003 white. Here is Mr. Chavey, serving Mohammed another glass & here is also the group of us (- moi, who was acting as group photographer):

When we asked Mr. Chavey, as we left, if he could direct us to a restaurant in the area that appreciated children and had things like pizza (again, for the boys' sake), he looked incredulous and counted off the things working against us on his left hand: "So! They 1) want pizza 2) in a restaurant that appreciates children 3) in Meursaut 4) on a Sunday evening…" We were waiting for the ax to fall, but: "Only one thing to do! And that's go to the Grappe d'Or!" Which turned out to be the camping ground's eatery on a hill just out of town. Beautiful view, simple fare, and the boys could explore at will – or almost. Perfect end to a beautiful day.

28 August > A few days of rain begin, and we (sort of) take a day off and hike around the city of Beaune, including the amazing Hospices. We take out (Bœuf Bourgignon: mmmm!) and heat up and sit down to a good dinner at our rented place (a part of a former convent & quite lovely, especially for it's stone tiled floors and antique furniture and for the view on the east side. And we play Mille Bornes for the first of four times. (Oh, and… all who know her will be utterly shocked to hear that Barb was on the winning team all four times.)

29 August > We head to the Abbey de Fontenay, which was stunning, even under the relentless rain.

And then we stopped in a nearby city we'd spotted on the way up, Semur-en-Auxois, which turned out to be gorgeously intriguing. It was built into cliffs, had an up-and-coming-den-of-artists thing about it, and offered a romantic (in the way that cities that are coming apart at the seems can seem) walk about the ramparts & down to the water and around, among several other things: wonderful homemade ice creams at a swank little place near the city gates; a strange supper at a heavy-on-the-cheese place; a... ehm... shower... of sorts... Ah! & there was this lovely & reassuring sign over one of the town gates ("Semurians are so very happy to make the acquaintence of strangers." -S. Munster, 1552):


30 August > Here are a few quiet moments from early in the day at our dwelling place:

We bike through the same country we rode our tank through on the 27th, doing many of the same things along the way, for instance tasting wines and eating well (or rather, picnicking this time). It is the perfect Autumn day: blue sunny skies studded with clouds & green, green rolling hills - the ancestors of which vineyards now filling our bellies and heads. Mmmm! So good! The only problem that presents itself is the effects of wine tasting upon our muscles, which are required to propel us up hill (& down), whether we are propelling children, as well, or not. Or whether or not we needed to take the same roads several times over, owing to... erm... in-ter-esting navigational skills...

31 August > A day spent in and around Autun, with the usual suspects (fine foods and wines, sinewy walks about lovely medieval towns & their museums and churches)...

...and including a suspect hedgehog. I only mention this last because of the remarks of the teenage girls who were walking past it at the same time that we were. They looked at it with a bit of alarm, and one of them said, "There's a lot of that going around about town these past few days. Birds and small animals falling like flies..." As if it were a horror movie script. Though to look around, you'd've said that nothing could be further from such a thing!

01 September > A complicated day to explain, though the upshot is that we have many more bottles of fine wines; more bellies full of tasty foods, the whole topped off with our first real Fine de Bourgogne (!!); either a restful afternoon spent walking and antiquing or a restless afternoon spent walking and eventually eating ice creams; and a quiet evening eating & drinking well and playing... more Mille Bornes!

02 September > We head towards Alsace, with a first stop in Arc et Senans and the Salines Royales. Here's us about to tuck into lunch before a long afternoon at said salt mines:

After which, we wound our way into the Vosges and to our gorgeous B&B and then to the exquisite inn (for dinner), with it's truly handsome innkeeper(esse). More beauty, more fine drink and dumplings!

03 September > We reluctantly leave our night's lodgings and head to Le Corbusier's church on the hill (one of the so-many in France that were testament to terrible human loss in time of war). The return of rain meant deep greens and blues and browns, though it also meant a loss of the famous streaming coloured light inside the church.

The boys were very tired, but the next stop perked them up considerably: the Ferme-Auberge Entzenbach. Oy-yoy! I wouldn't even know where to start. Though I can promise that if Aunt Ellen & Uncle Donnie come as they think they might next year, we will most definately try to get back there with them.

I didn't actually promise Barb that I wouldn't tell the story of our descent, though she tried over and over to extract such a thing. And yet, I have some sense of Barb's decency. (hee! hee!) And so here is a summary in pictures:



Soon afterwards, we were home again, home again, jiggity-jig (and despite the longest traffic jam in history on the A6). As for the days and thoughts and images thereafter, though... Well... they'll have to wait a day or five. It's time for a trip to the Land of Nod, the better to be ready to get to school at 8:20 tomorrow morning. If the boys' First Real Week of School doesn't start out with their missing a day or two, that is -- thanks to a mega bug that got Tomi straight off, but waited until the weekend to strike wee Leo. Snif!

First Day of School

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

Well... before telling anything about our last week in Beaune and other beautiful places, eating delicious foods, drinking delicious wines (as well as a couple of Marcs de Bourgogne, in the place of & until we found the Fine de Bourgogne that Barb was on a desperate search for) and walking and biking beautiful trails... before all that and more, we feel we must mention that today was... Da! DA!... Leo & Tomi's first day of (pre-)school!

And what a day it's been: First Day of School Blueberry Muffins; First Day of School Accident on the Rug; First Day of School Ironing of the First Day of School Trousers...

Here we are on the First Day of School Ride Downstairs in the Elevator:


And here are the boys starting out in the opposite direction on their First Day of School Walk to School:


And here are the parents on their First Day of School Retreat From the School (which you can just see over the walk around the entrance and playground) to their First Day of School Coffee:


What a strange day... The boys needed more than the changes of clothes that we'd brought for them - as their teacher said, "It's the emotion that does it." Then again, they were so happy when we found them again at noon: Tomi smiling and dancing, and Leo holding another boy's hand and and smiling happily... The school is beautiful & the teacher seems very sweet and understanding... & it turns out that their little buddy Chiara is in their class, too! The adventure continues on Friday (since they start the smallest ones out by introducing a thrid of the class to the classroom on three separate days.

Now, I'm going to sift through the pictures of the past 10 days and try to get some of them up before Larry & Barb are back in Iowa ( ! )...