This year for the first time, it's just the four of us for Christmas. One little family, and only two people who really know it's Christmas.
Luckily, we have the webcam, to share a few moments with some of our loved ones. Not all technology is bad, some of it has even been welcomed into our twenty-first century-reticent home with open arms.
Because last year's yuletide stay in the mountains was such a - ahem - success*... this year we have decided to head to the ocean. We are leaving for Ile de Ré on Saturday morning, back in a week.
Enjoy the festivities! Thanks to all who've been kind enough to read my blog and dabble in our domestic dilemmas and tribulations in 2009!
* This isn't really fair. The mountains were fine, it was just the morning / 24hr sickness that made it feel like a week spent in the ante-chamber of hell...
Photo taken last time we were in Ile de Ré, October 2007
I stared at my wardrobe and all I could see were tones of beige, navy and grey.
It all seemed so neutral, so bland. So... wintery.
That's when I bought the purple trousers.
A bold fashion statement?
Or a sign of mid-winter madness?
The jury is still out, but the trousers are on.
My friend O. is a soon-to-be-famous comic writer. I.e. a writer of comics. But he's funny too. His favourite topics are politics and male-female relations, which I guess just about covers everything under the sun, if you think about it.
Anyway, I encourage you to check out both his comics and his artwork on his website.
And if you prefer to read in English, well, O. has recently hired a fantastic translator, who is busy making his comics sound as witty and (im)pertinent in English as they are in French (yep, I am she). Take a look at them here.
Enjoy!
Since the snow and the cold have arrived here in Toulouse, the boys and I encounter very few other people on our afternoon walks.
In fact, 95% of the fellow strollers we meet are dog-walkers: grim-faced souls wrapped up in thick layers of wool, eyes to the ground as their spritely dog gallops by.
You would think that a bit of snow might be fun for kids? Yet the only other child we met on Friday afternoon belonged to an older lady who smiled and told me: "I'm from Normandy, you know. That's why I don't mind the cold. I bet you're from the North too?"
"Yup," I nodded, "I'm definitely from the North, too."
It seems that people from Toulouse have the wrong attitude to cold weather. They see it as a burden to be avoided, rather than simply a great opportunity to accessorize (hats, scarves, gloves...)!
More seriously, I don't really understand why people here just retreat into hiding, rather than let their kids play around in the snow. But there's something peaceful about being the only souls out on days like these. Again and again, I realise that I'm happiest when I'm out of step with the rest of the city.
Every year, the same old scene.
It's distribution day: every employee of the Firm (plus dog, plus baby, as the case may be...) goes to the big warehouse clutching his or her "bon" (token) and collects the Christmas gift they've selected from the catalogue.
Sounds nice, yes?
No. Santa's little depot this is not.
Every year, the same old rotten atmosphere that makes me seethe.
Pushing, shoving, annoyance, high tension... people clutching large boxes of Japanese electrical appliances and stacking them greedily into their car boots.
And what always amazes me is: everyone is guaranteed to get a gift! It's not as though there's a limited number, or even that it's a first come, first served situation... No, this is not a soup kitchen for the homeless, yet all these well-fed, well-off people suddenly act like their future happiness depends on getting this one free gift as quickly as they can.
I'm sorry, but I find it kind of depressing.
Not depressing enough to renounce my own gift altogether and stop going, sure, but it may actually come to that one day.
This year, at 3 p.m. (why was nobody actually at work?? Why were half the employees of the Firm completely free to go gift collecting in mid-afternoon??), I had to endure a shove in the ribs and a couple of knocks to LB's pram in order to walk away with my new telephone and a box of Lego.
Sure, it's worth it. I don't look a gift horse in the mouth (this is a very idiomatic expression: French friends will need a specialist dictionary...).
But each year I walk away thinking that yes, this truly is the Christmas spirit at its very worst...
PS. Yes, it's snowing in Toulouse. That annual day of "life is at a complete and utter standstill" is upon us. Canadian friends, feel free to smile smugly.
After a whole day spent entertaining my two offspring within a 60 square-metre confined space (our house) while, outside, the temperature plummeted to -2°, an unexpected treat awaited me. (And no, I'm not referring to the two episodes of Sex & The City I somehow managed to watch whilst bouncing LB on my knee and pretending that hypnotizing a baby with cathode rays consituted responsible childcare...).
FH came home from work and uttered those romantic words every woman longs to hear: why don't you go out by yourself for a couple of hours? I'll look after the kids.
Before you could say "cabin fever", I was out.
Dizzy with freedom, I realised that I didn't actually have anything to do. Wednesday evening is, in theory, the time I go for a swim. But you know, it's winter. It's cold.
My heart's desire was simply to... be alone for an hour.
So I drove around a little, parked up, sat back and listened to a political debate on the car radio.
Outside, the ground frosted over, the darkness was crisp and charged.
Inside the car, the heater buzzed and a government minister babbled on about national identity and immigration.
It wasn't much, hardly anything really.
It was fantastic.
Dear Maman,
Just a quick note to say thank you for finally getting the message!
I've been trying to let you know for quite a while... and it was a bit frustrating that you never seemed to realise what I was saying.
I know that the books say I'm "officially" too young.
But I'm your boy, not the textbook baby, and you can see how big I am!
I mean, even those 6-9 month clothes are getting a little tight around the belly these days, aren't they?
Anyway, I 'm sorry that I've been so grumpy these past few days. My gums have been hurting and yes, my belly has been rumbling.
Thanks again, Maman. You really are the best!
Love from your little boy, LB xx
