Paris in sight...

We've got a little bit of everything going on here at the Dukedom at the moment.

First up, the oldest little lady turns 7 tomorrow. I've spent the last week trying to come to terms with the fact that a) I have a 7 yr old, and b) this means it is birthday party time again. What I wouldn't do to have a roller-skating rink in my neighborhood at this time of year.

Just to make sure the house is even messier than usual for the party, we have officially gone back into the fray of house renovations. This time around, painting the stairwell and upstairs hallway and all 7 doors upstairs, removing the paint from the beautiful stone stairs (the person who applied that first coat of paint all those years ago should have been guillotined!), and repainting all 12 sets of wooden shutters. Those of you who know how expensive paint is in France will understand why we have been recently considering selling our firstborn.

All these renovations have been spurred on by the fact that we will be having visitors soon. My dad and my uncle are coming for a 3-week stay over Christmas. My dad has been out several times, but this will be a first for my uncle, and it will be the first Christmas in over 15 years that I will get to spend Christmas with my side of the family.

I'm going to meet them in Paris when they arrive and we'll spend three nights in the city before taking the train down south. I've rented an apartment in the 6th, booked the train tickets, and am now employing Master's level research skills in finding some good restaurants for us to try. I'm arriving two days before them to give myself a little 'me' time and hope to fit in some book shopping and lots of café sitting before the grand tour starts.

For those of you living in Paris, would love to hear some recommendations for restaurants and bars, and particularly bars where we can listen to some music, as per request from my dad (so probably not rock or punk, maybe jazz or chanson français, or something like that!). Thanks!

The garden shed...

Our once cobweb-ridden garden cabanon has had a make-over. Its new use is, officially, my writing room, but unofficially, the place I go to hid from the little ladies. My most important condition on its remodel was that it could lock from the inside.

I don't have any before photos to show you, but I can tell you it was pretty shed-like, concrete floor, crumbly walls, no window, spiders everywhere, and full of garden furniture (who knew we had so many chairs?).

When asked what I wanted for my birthday, this was my answer. And the Duke obliged, doing it all himself. (Hmmm, come to think of it, maybe he really wanted a room that he could lock me in, too...).

Home is where the heart is...

Before:

After:

Hello.....Remember me?

I seem to have mislaid the computer for over a month, sorry about that!

We've been having gorgeous weather recently, and then today, after the sun and the rain and the little rainbow, I swear I saw snowflakes. This is not normal weather behavior. I mean, how is one supposed to dress for all weather eventualities in one day? I find that removing and putting back on loads of layers gives me really bad hair static, which is never really a good look, and apparently slightly frightening to young children, according to my 4 year old little lady and her dance class friends. Just one of many future die of embarassment moments I'm sure she'll have to endure, grâce à moi!

Things are quite busy round the dukedom at the moment. Along with house renovations, veggie garden preparations and work, we are getting ready for our earlier than usual onslaught of enemy, I mean family, invaders. Both of our fathers will be visiting, which is great for the little ladies to see their grandads, but their visits always tend to highlight the fact that grandmothers are much more helpful visitors. Maybe some of you with mother in laws would like to set me straight on this, but what I wouldn't do sometimes for an older woman in the house who senses I may need some help and offers to make the coffee instead of just asking for some!

I learned a new French word today: Foutu(e), which is an adjective and comes from the verb foutre. I think I may use this word alot. Here are some of the ways in which these useful words can be applied-
Tout n'est pas foutu. It's not a complete cock-up (screw-up).
Qu'est-ce qu'il fout? What the hell is he doing?
Aller se faire foutre. To go to Hell.
Je me foutrais des claques! Sometimes I could kick myself!
Je m'en fous! I don't give a damn (shit)!
Ca fait un an de foutu. That's a whole year wasted.
Je ne sais foutre rien! I know fuck all about it!
Funny that my entire 4 year degree in French Literature never once introduced me to this essential verb and its derivitives. Surely Balzac and Zola must have had occasion to use it. Yet another example of how completely useless my degree has proven to be........

no point starting at the beginning.....

Recipe for the day: deep breaths, fresh air, crap television, large quantity of hiding from the children......

We are currently in the process of major renovations, so you'll have to excuse the frequent updates on the amount of wallpaper I've managed to scrap off the walls each week. Currently on layer 3, in the girls' room I started about 4 weeks ago.

Feeling a bit of the winter blahs at the moment, even though it's 70° and sunny. Lots of birthdays this month, and I'm feeling slightly nervous about throwing my first mixed French/English toddlers birthday party. Surely the level of sugar intake is the same no matter what country they are in? I'm hoping it goes well and isn't too awkward for the French mothers.

Saw 'Thank you for Smoking' the other night and quite liked it. Can almost imagine some zealot is trying to airbrush out all cigarettes from classic Hollywood movies.

It is probably painfully obvious that I'm new to this blogging thing, so please bear with me. I hope you may find something vaguely interesting along the way......