blondefish.blogspot.com: May 2018

The Church on Rue Aguseau #Churchtimes

We love our Church under 2 community...which is steadily growing. Here, some of the smallest:

Crevette on the far right

And here's us heading home after one sunny Sunday:

Like 2 years ago, we attended the Roland Garros Family Day...another brilliant occasion of queuing for yonks, sweating like piggies, seeing famous tennis players (Djokovic, Nadal and a host of French people that El Puma got excited about), eating ice cream, and then doing the long traipse home at the end of the day. And somehow it was still a lot of fun.

Djoco and Nadal on the big screens

Home Sick Home #onthemend

I've been coughing for 4 weeks straight and I can't seem to clear it. Then last week we had a few days where it was boiling hot by lunchtime (29 degrees) and then the heavens opened in a torrential downpour in the afternoon...each time catching the weather forecasters off guard, which meant I never had a raincoat, wellies, jackets, or even a cardie usually. Honestly, check out youtube of shocking Parisian downpours last week to get an idea of the torrents and hail. All that meant that this week was also accompanied by fever, chills, the shakes, sore joints, nausea and dizziness. Time to see a doctor, especially as poor El Puma was cracking after taking up all the slack while still sorting out his apartment, doing his job, and a few other things besides.

Turns out I have bronchitis, and with some antibiotics already in my system, am feeling better already.

Anyway, back to those storms. It started to spit rain on my way up to the school, but as it had been so hot and crevette was in the sling, she had no sleeves, shorts and no socks or shoes, and I was pretty much in the same condition thinking about it. It was definitely very hot and sticky and I got enjoyed the slight cool down. By the time I reached the school it was definitely raining but still pretty warm, so it was pretty much just my feet wet. By the time we left school it was a downpour. We agreed it would be better to get home so we ran for the bus. We were wet, but things were reasonable.

On the bus, it was like the heavens split in two and all the water up above suddenly crashed to the earth. The noise was deafening and we couldn't see out the bus windows. And then it was our stop.

Nothing for it really but to get off. Except we arrived on the park side of the street and all available shelter - plus home - was on the other side. The bus paused before starting off to let us cross in front of it across the zebra crossing, which sort of put me under pressure to cross. And half way across I suddenly noticed the far curb. There was an absolute river of brown water coursing down the hill from the construction site further up the road. It was about 2.5m wide, I couldn't see the bottom, it was actually creating waves, and was moving really really quickly. I stepped in and sort of realised my mistake - it would take at least 4 steps to cross it so I would be soaked, and it was much deeper and faster flowing than I had anticipated.

Fingerling came to a standstill almost immediately, but with 3 wheels remained upright and I pulled her through with water up to her knees. But Small Fry's scooter got whipped out from under him with the force of the current. He fell, panicked, but kept it together enough to grab the scooter as it started to slide away, and kept going. We got to the other side, practically all of us in tears (crevette was howling with the force of the storm and rain) and nothing for it but to continue the last 300m home.

We were as wet as wet can be. Absolutely and totally. We got everyone upstairs, stripped, warm, in jammies, and in front of the tv. I suppose I was last and, yeah, bronchitis.

The picture above is just one I liked.

The Power of Love #RoyalWedding #Analysis

So apparently there was a wedding last weekend. My invite must have got lost in the post. Much like the last time...when El Puma and I had to follow the vows of Kate and Wills from a taxi cab in Bangkok. This time BBC Radio 4 helped us out as we drove down to the Loire.

I'd quite like to steer clear of the Royal Wedding. Honest. Apart from maybe a quick keek at the dress. I would have have preferred it if the whole event had been private. But of course they can't do that. How else can the monarchy renew its sense of legitimacy and establish its relevance? Instead, British Royal Weddings are its works of art, reflecting its values and vanities.

I suppose I am a republican for all the obvious reasons, and not least because the monarchy exemplifies the class problem in the UK; a problem I find most distasteful. I'd rather be born a citizen and not a subject and not have others born to rule over me.

Ultimately, a good ol' Royal Wedding either cements or corrodes the public support for another generation of monarchy. And by this standard I think they did rather well. After all, it became an excuse for "ordinary citizens to initiate conversations of their own free will rather than, as custom dictates, either waiting for their dogs to sniff each other or deciding not to speak at all".

Before I get too negative, let me comment on the two best parts of the day: the mother of the bride, full or grace and serenity (no. 1), a black woman listening to a black preacher talk (no. 2) about slavery in the very white halls of the institution of the British monarchy. And it's that sermon that provided the perfect 'marmite' moment...you know, the one where the nation is split into equal camps of lovers and loathers. For me, it was evangelical without being evangelistic: the Power of Love. What I mean is that there is quite a lot in the Bible that is not really gospel in the fullest sense of the word but is really, really useful for living. Take Proverbs, or Ecclesiastes. You don't have to be a believer to benefit from them. But how about if you see it written the following way?

Whatever your take on it, at the end of the day it was hilarious to see the same face on the Queen as on Elton John's.

And if this has been all too boring, then all you really need to remember is that last Saturday an American divorcée married a man whose brother will only become king because of his paternal grandmother's father who only became king because his brother wanted to marry an American divorcée.

[thanks to brilliant analysis from The Guardian, The New Yorker and Christianity Today, from which all the above is lifted...and which I couldn't agree with more]

Another day #41

I was awfie impressed with myself today as I managed to make El Puma's 41st birthday tiramisu while in a feverish state, and had to completely skip the dinner to go to bed early.

This is the moment at which El Puma reached '3' as he was counting to blow our his candles. Yes, the two older rotters blew it out for him somewhere between 1 and 2.

The spirit of things #Angers

Since our Centre Parks weekend 2 years ago, we've been looking for an excuse to go away with our dear friends the Moyals. Kelley-Anne and I have each had our babies around the same time (their no. 3 is due in August), which is helpful as it means we are looking for similar set ups...and we totally found it at the Chateau de Breuil, about 300km from Paris in the Loire valley.

And of course, we had yet another long weekend (this time, Pentecost) to use up.

It's basically a large 5-bedroomed manor house (yes please!) with a humungous garden. The kids just ran and ran and ran, while we stayed pretty stationary on the terrace.

Who wouldn't, right?

On our full day there we went first to Chalonnes-sur-Loire in the UNESCO World Heritage Site area.

We just missed the boat (literally)...they do cruises in ancient wine barrel transporters so after a little walk we decided to spend the rest of the day in Angers. And what a hidden gem that place is, especially its amazing Chateau.

Angers was the cradle of the Plantagenet dynasty, home of the Apocalypse Tapestry, the biggest medieval tapestry ensemble in the world. Anyway, it was amazing.

Outside the castle:

Inside:

Originally, the chateau was built as a fortress in AD 970. the outer wall is 3 metres thick and extends for about 660m with 17 massive towers. Method no. 238 to repel your enemy: make them drunk on your fabulous wine grown on the walls of your castle.

Unusually, for France, they had thought of everything, including some rest stops in the shade:

And some more random photos from our stay.

Crevette at lunch

The other 2 at post-lunch dancing in the square. As you do.

Kelley-Anne doing Fingerling's hair:

Poser:

And a lunch stop on the way home:

What are the chances of her having curly hair do you reckon?

First Expedition #Growingupsofast

Small Fry was hardly back from Scotland before he was off again...this time on his own (for the first time)...well, him and his whole year group.

He was so excited that we were the first to arrive at the school...

...by a long way (30 mins)

Itching to get on the bus

They spent 2 nights in Burgundy at a Pony camp, where they brushed and rode their pony 3 times, and did a bazillion other activities it seems...including pottery and a disco on the second night.

Nothing for it but for us girls to make the most of our girlie time together.

Cuddles

Cafés

Small Fry was hardly back from Scotland before he was off again...this time on his own (for the first time)...well, him and his whole year group.

He was so excited that we were the first to arrive at the school...

...by a long way (30 mins)

Itching to get on the bus

Cuddles

Cafés

and enjoying the sunny weather

When I asked Fingerling whether she missed her brother, she said no. And I well believe it. She became even more clingy now that I only had to share her with one sibling. And as her chatterbox brother was not around, she fully exploited the space and yacked and yacked her way through the 3 days. Both Small Fry and I got to Friday completely exhausted.

Clan Moments #ScottieWeek

Flying solo for the first time with 3 kids? Check
With a stopover on the way? Check
With too much luggage? Check
With poop on your shirt from when your baby's nappy leaked? Check

It had all the makings of a dreadful journey home, but we had simply had TOO MUCH FUN during our week in Scotland for such silly little things as a whole day of travel, an unnecessary two flights, and a booming import-export business resulting in too much luggage (again) to dampen our spirits.

It was fantastic catching up with great mum-friends while back in Stirling, but it was really some amazing times with family that made our week so special.