blondefish.blogspot.com: October 2013

Sole Rebels #GotSoul

Sole Rebels is an eco-fairtrade footwear company with a difference. It rejects the notion that developing countries are there to be helped, and instead is a 100% home-grown and home-owned initiative to create, grow and control a successful global brand.

In my work on global value chains, I discovered that there is often a gap between what the market wants, and what developing countries think the market wants. This means that middlemen can add value to a basic product from a developing country - and keep profits associated with that value addition. I also found that many initiatives in developing countries are still rich-country owned and run, which means only a percentage of profits get back to producers.

At Sole Rebels there are no middlemen and producers control all the output and get all the returns. Each shoe is made to order and takes around 6 weeks to produce using organic cotton and recycled tires, by some of the most marginalised people in society.

Charity and Aid may feel nice, but it does not create sustained prosperity for the recipients. What is needed is self-controlled and self-directed prosperity making. Sole Rebels offers an answer. We hold the solution through our purchasing decisions. Over to you:

Neck Craning #Regeneration

I never thought we'd get so excited about cranes. But I suppose they are high up, probably look like they are flying to a small child, and they move in very exciting ways (along, up, down, round). Good job there's so much construction going on around us for a one crane-loving boy.

FishLove #CelebrityPower

FishLove

Possibly the oddest 'stop overfishing' campaign I've ever come across.

Little Boy Blue Part II #Magician'sCan'tFly

It was just one of those days. Small Fry didn't nap in the morning at daycare, so that meant he slept first and then ate, which always knocks off his schedule. And for some reason he woke up crying, like really crying. Maybe it was the day being so bizarre, maybe it was teeth, maybe it was the fact that daddy was out at band practise, maybe it was the Skype call in the evening that got him all excited, or simply none of those things, but he just wouldn't go to sleep.

So up he got again:

And on went Baby Einstein while I started clearing and washing up.

Out went the baby from the high chair:

Smacked his lip, got a feed and went straight to sleep.

And this time daddy came home to a momma with a bruised heart.

Anything to keep the mac going #GoLocal

When I left the OECD in December 2008, my colleagues contributed enough to my leaving gift for me to buy my beautiful MacBook Pro, on which I wrote one PhD...and saved 150 GB worth of photos (basically, all of them).

It has served me faithfully, including surviving one dousing in champagne that left the keyboard a little sticky, and I'm not quite ready to give it up yet, but I did need to make some space. It had got so desperate that Skype couldn't find enough spare memory to even open.

So I decided to try our nearest electric-gear-selling retailer for a new external hard drive that would house all those photos. Wanting to be cool, I bought a super slim one that weighed about 1 gram and was about the size of a credit card.

Mmm. Never try to be cool.

The thing was too small to power off one USB port to be reformatted for a mac (or my computer too old....I never really got it) and required two cables. But no two-headed cable was provided. I happen to have one for my current external hard drive, but as I had just bought a super-duper-Slimline one, my cable didn't fit.

Panic. Cup of tea. Think. Email some friends. Think some more. Resign myself to going back to the store. Just hoping I can get my money back. Well, it IS France and getting what we consider 'normal' customer service isn't always guaranteed.

Back I trundle. Hey, it isn't all bad:

I do actually get my money back, and I am so relieved that I don't want to risk a second purchase in the same store. Instead, I call El Puma who has some smart advice: what about that local computer shop?

Sure enough, they have hard drives for the same price but with twice as much space, are just around the corner, have personalised attention and the solution I was actually looking for: they'll do it all for me.

Tick for local.

What happens in the south of France #DoesNotNeedToStayInTheSouthOfFrance

http://www.flickr.com/photos/106242514@N05/sets/72157636859442265/

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Password: ingridfred

Getting dunked #ByWaterForHim&ChampagneForUs

This afternoon we attended Louis' baptism in our beautiful local Catholic Church, which I haven't actually managed to visit yet, Sainte-Marie-des-Batignolles. It's quite a popular Church and most Saturday's you can spot a bride and groom with their dressed up friends and family congratulating them on the Church steps.

Our little quartier in Paris is very baby friendly and there has been quite a baby boom. It's the only reason I can think of that the Church schedules all baptisms for a Sunday afternoon, instead of prolonging the main mass every Sunday. We witnessed Louis' parents' wedding back in July and were delighted to be invited back for his baptism (and not only because where there's a celebration there's champagne).

Small Fry models another of Oma's wonderful winter creations:

Winter woollens #WeHeartOma

Small Fry had a fantastic week with Oma if photographic evidence of their days is anything to go by. But another treat of Oma's visits is getting made-to-measure winter warmers.

Small Fry getting measured

New matching gloves, socks and scarf. Don't worry, there is a jumper too!

A new day #NewModeOfTransport

Before

After

Blondefish Baby #TheElPumaMix

Small Fry

11 month birthday

8.8 kg (50th percentile)

75.5 cm (91st percentile)
BMI: 15.8

Unchain My Heart #Science&Art

Meeting up with visitors to Paris is always great for an excuse to see old sights through new eyes, and some new sights too, all while introducing Small Fry to this crazy, wonderful world we live in.

First up: a tree-lined avenue with cuddly toys tied to the branches overhead.

Which way is here?

The Pont des Arts. In recent years, tourists have taken to attaching padlocks with their first names written or engraved to the railings, before throwing the key into the Seine as a romantic gesture (said to represent a couple's committed love). The City of Paris hasn't quite figured out a definitive policy on how to deal with the new fad, although French police have been known to patrol the key to stop keys being thrown into the river. They must have the lazy cops on duty as the place is full of these padlocks (and perhaps the Seine is full of the keys). They can be found elsewhere too. I wonder how much weight they add to the bridge?

Park Life #SarkoSighting

There are some areas of Paris where there are very few green areas. We are particularly lucky as within 100m we have two fantastic parks. One is the Square des Batignolles, hosting all our little duck friends, waterfalls, a crepe and waffles van (for that Sunday afternoon snack), all right alongside the Gare Saint Lazare train line where a local or regional train passes every 30 seconds or so (keeps little boys amused while mama eats her waffle). Then there's the enormous Parc Martin Luther King, right at the end of our street. The park is part of a regeneration area where the old Gare Saint Lazare sidings used to be. Right at the end of the park are where the new Courts of Justice will be built. At 160m it will be taller than the arch at La Defense and will completely transform our neighbourhood with the expected addition of around 30,000 people. New houses are springing up along the left and right flanks of the park. We did start to get interested in an investment opportunity...until we saw the prices: 17 000 euros per square metre on some floors of these new apartment blocks. In any case, we are benefitting from the extension of the park to include a wooded running area, rain water catchment area and an eco-sanctuary, in addition to the still-fascinating skateboard park that is currently there.

Just slighty further afield after a 1mile walk we come to the almighty Parc Monceau, the 8th largest park in Paris. It's a beautiful park with a 1km running track for the super keen and donkey rides, carousels, water features, swings, slides and a crepe/waffle van for everyone else.

It's also halfway between my friend Geneviève's house and my house, and so a perfect place to meet for an afternoon run. Small Fry was at daycare, but her little boy Asher accompanied us asleep in his jogging buggy.

It's hard work pushing a buggy while running (even a full-suspension one designed to be pushed while running) and given our generally unfit post-baby states, we weren't exactly pummeling along a fast pace. But we still overtook the ex-President of France.

Yes, Nicholas Sarkozy, apparently so friendless now that even his 2 bodyguards ran 1 metre behind him, was also plodding his way around the dirt tracks. He was cheating though and cutting across the grass at the half way point.

Obviously, we were two blondes (even a buggy doesn't change that), and obviously, well, he's French. Eye contact was made. I'm not saying anything happened, but when you know when you recognise someone and you involuntarily smile because you know who they are? Yes, I did that. He sort of pursed his lips in response. But, we did pass him another 5 times. Coincidence? Surely not.

Reuters took the above shot. I did have my camera with me but it seemed a bit silly to pull it out for a pic of an ex-Prez. We could see from the looks of those sat on the benches along the running track that most people had recognised him, but to be fair, everyone left him alone to run his lonely run (I'm telling you, he should have brought his baby in a buggy. THEN he would have had plenty of attention).

We cackled our way around the rest of our run, and noticeably sped up as he approached. I'm assuming he was in awe of our awesome buggy-handling skills, hot mama looks and quick turn of pace as we bowled past him.

OK, ok, so it's not got this kudos: (spot sister in the background)

But we got at least 2 laps of laughing mileage out of Sarko's sock height.

Sniffly #NotAnExcuseToNotLookGood

Another day, another virus. Thanks very much crèche and crappy weather.

But at least it's a chance for Small Fry to wear his new hat (thanks M&S!).

Poor Oma, she could have got this cold weather back in Scotland!

Standing tall #WhenHeShouldBeSleeping

I put Small Fry down for his nap. 10 minutes later I hear a funny cry. It's not his usual I-don't-want-to-sleep cry, nor the I'm-turning-over-in-my-sleep cry. I go in and there he is...proudly standing in his cot. And stuck, because he can't get back down.

So much fun he did it again. And again.

My first mail as a Dr! #TurnsOutICanBlurTheAddressToo

Automatic floor cleaner #CommandoCrawler

Small Fry has found some serious speed even despite his high-friction version of crawling.

He does an ace job of cleaning the floor at the same time*

*NOT to imply my floors are very dirty. I do actually sweep and wash it after every meal time but the air in Paris is really dirty and dust builds up really quickly. Honest.

The responsible one #WhoLetTheBabyFall?

What? I do all the hard work of calling up the crèche, getting an appointment, keeping the appointment, making such a stunning impression with Small Fry that although there is a waiting list of 90 kids we are given a spot within a week, then doing all the paperwork, and faithfully dropping off and collecting Small Fry, and STILL daddy the man is the 'premier responsable'.

Wireless Technology #NoNeedForLuxuryToys

Off goes the wifi.

On it comes.

Off it goes again.

Yes, Small Fry has found that if he pushes the light on the router then it goes on and off...and mama makes all sorts of fun noises.

Little Boy Blue #JustWentForACoffee

While mama's away, the boys did play.

Until one of them face planted off the bed.

To be fair, the bigger boy was right beside the little boy but the little boy is quicker. Now the little boy has a bruised cheek and split lip and the bigger boy has a bruised ego and a bruised heart.

Can you see it on his left side?

Caption Comp #LittleBoysBlue

It's really nice to have become friends with mums who have boys too (and who apparently all have wardrobes dominated by the colour blue). Now that they've begun to start moving, it's much easier to go to someone's house rather than a café. Small Fry particularly enjoyed the rug which enabled him to try all sorts of new manoeuvres that our slippy parquet at home normally prevent.

But he has also come from Sweden with a sweaky voice. We think it's the end of the cold he caught right before we left, but he's got practically no voice at all and what we can hear is very high-pitched. So this afternoon's 'playdate' is probably going to be with the doc*.

*Update: Laryngitis

Swedish Smörgåsbord #AWork&FamilyMix

And we're back.

And knackered.

Turns out that 7 full days of work is a LOT of work. Having Small Fry there actually helped maintain perspective otherwise it would have been all too easy to work the remaining few hours that were not taken up with meetings.

At the start of the week I wasn't so confident and after the first couple of nights when Small Fry needed some gentle reassurance (a cuddle and a feed) at 4am....and 4.30am and 5am and 5.30am and 6am, I was beginning to think that work and family just can't mix. But I really believed that 8 days would have been too long for us both away from each other and eventually his adoring entourage helped him settle. It turns out that you CAN mix work and family but you need an awful lot of support. Thanks to Tia Rosita, Pekka, La Moz, Le Poz, Daddy and Oma for all your help.

During the day, I was participating as a consultant on marine issues on a review of Sweden's environmental policy. You might think a review of a front runner in the green movement such as Sweden would be pretty precursory, but it was very insightful and I have quite a challenge ahead of me now in capturing governance and implementation issues in a fair way. But while I was stuck in meetings, Small Fry got to see quite a lot of Sweden.

The weekend started with some tourism: visiting Tia Rosita and Pekka who live not too far from Stockholm. The long and low autumnal light made me homesick for Scotland (the greenery and cold only strengthened it).