Thursday, 14 November 2013

jeudi de paris - yes, its back!

I've been terribly uninspired lately.  After the hustle and bustle of summer, the arrival of the cold weather was inevitable, and my body seems to want to go into automatic hibernation mode.  I haven't gotten the full blown flu but the bug is certainly hovering around.

The girls were excited to go back to school, and with the school system 'reform', now have school on Wednesday mornings making it a 4 1/2  day week instead of their previous four.  Its taking a while getting used to this rhythm because Wednesdays off school was a good mid-week break which allowed for a play date on Tuesday afternoons or a movie at home and the Wednesday itself dedicated to a bit of lay-in and other less scholarly activities.

Thank goodness we had some exciting visitors to sweeten the start of the school year.

Téa, as you can see, was just over the moon to see her godpa and be able add to her collection of spoons (she gets a silver spoon a year from godpa).  

Peter took some great photos for his blog, and did a fun interview with our friends which he will soon post on his blog life is a song if you can't dance.  Which kind of reminded me of my empty promises to take photos of our now-not-so-new apartment for you.  My latest excuse?  My camera has broken down.  Well, my favourite 'its-all-in-the-camera' camera that is.  I made some efforts anyway, with this other little camera.  And now you can see, that actually, I am not so great with the camera after all.

So anyway, here is a picture-story of recent (ok, some not so recent) happenings, and what's in and around our home:

We've been up since four am in anticipation of the first day of school!

Wooden ceiling beams typical of old French apartments, like ours. 

Our living room wall stirs up an on-going debate; do we keep the green wall green?

Our 16th century building features hand-quarried stone and very thick walls.  A note to residents:  no horse carriage in the courtyard please.

Wallpaper in the girls' room.  A bit of nature, a bit of religion, a bit of music...

Our own personal chef.

What was waiting for me at the post office after the summer holidays.  Thanks Ivy!

Another beat-the-post-summer-blues care package in the mail.  Thanks Kathy!  Yum yum…

A "it's-not-Valentine's-Day, I-love-you-anyway" present from Monsieur.  He didn't read the marketing tagline "Pour les hommes, qui aiment les femmes, qui aiment les hommes, qui font la cuisine"
Translation:  For men, who love women, who love men, who love to cook.

The most prominent landmark nearest to us, The Panthéon (being refurbished).

The café and restaurant scene of our neighbourhood.

The trudge uphill to home, scooter style.

Our street.

Our street, from another angle.

The courtyard of the secondary school Anaïs will go to in a couple of years, 3 minutes' walk.

Monsieur himself went to the same school, Lycée Henri IV.

Me trying to be creative on the staircase of the school.

Picnic while the weather says we can.

No, no, its not a factory using child labour!  Just a metal art workshop.  

The kind of shoe I don't wear on the cobbled streets of Paris.

An autumn morning on our last visit to Sturget in October.

Elise:  Do you want to be scary or beautiful?
Anaïs:  Can I not be both?

Roasting chestnut and toasting marshmallows on Halloween night, a much warmer option to trick-or-treating out in the rain.

Bigger people get bigger fires.  Deal with it.  Save us some marshmallows grand-pére!

A recurrent conversation...
Girls:  Mama, can we have a horse?
Me:  No.
Girls:  Mama, can we have a dog?
Me:  No.
Girls:  Mama, can we just take the neighbour's cat home?

Mission: baguette from the village boulangerie.  
Mission accomplished, plus a detour to the tabac-presse for some magazines.
Always works with papa.  Mmm… any surprise?

Dahlias and a rose... at the Jardin des Plantes.

Keong visited with his mum and aunt.  Anaïs pictured in the background.  Can't help herself, dancing up the bank.

The reason why we live this charmed life, and why most of the above is possible.  Merci, Monsieur!

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