I actually have Internet access today (woohoo) so I thought I’d write a quick post to reconnect before we lose it again with five things from France.
This, along with ooh la la, is one of La Belle Fille’s must used expressions. It’s odd to watch your daughter turn French.
……but I still want to marry James
After starting to comment on things with the addition “just like we did in England” it became obvious that La Belle was starting to realise that not only did she like her new home, but the country it was in wasn’t completely alien either. Phew! But then I noticed a new phrase; she’d come into the room and say, out of nowhere, “but I still want to marry James”. Ahhh, so sad.
Living in the French countryside is all we dreamed it would be; however the dream didn’t include the reality of spiders – they’re everywhere. The other day I went through the house with a large duster sweeping away the cobwebs (which were being spun frantically as soon as my back was turned I’m sure) and bashing a few of them over the head with it too. Country living is bringing out my savage side. I was fine until I started to imagine a Roal Dahl like, spider’s revenge scenario. Not good.
Baked beans, fish cakes and fish fingers
All, all with garlic in them. We’re Catholics so we eat fish on Friday and whenever Le Marie is away on busines this will often be fishfingers and baked beans. The other week I cooked them and Les Petites and I sat down to eat. Oh mon vache! They were bad! The fishfingers themselves tasted as if someone had taken haddock, added garlic and battered them. I’m pretty sure they inspired the painting The Scream.
I started sneakily feeding them to the cat. La Petite Fille outright rejected them. La Belle struggled on valiantly; apparently stunned by the cognitive dissonance the situation had created. You could almost see a think bubble above her head – “but fishfingers are good??!”
I kept asking her if they tasted ok and she kept saying yes in a small, broken voice. Eventually I couldn’t do it to her anymore – they all, including those still in the freezer, went in the bin. My advice – never buy French fishfingers.
The long lunches and long days
I must admit when we saw the school day times I was worried about how La Belle would last; 08.45-16.45! But the thing is both she and I are a lot less tired. The British school days, along with their shorter lunch times, are so rushed. In the UK, in secondary schools at least, it’s become the norm to see kids wandering round with a bag of chips and a slice of pizza. Here in France they sit down at a table to have a three course meal with cutlery and a napkin. Apparently the cook (this is her telling it, so probably not the actual cook) comes and tells La Belle to manger when she doesn’t want to eat what’s in front of her, and she does! They then have plenty of more time to digest and play.
For me that means there’s no rushing around and I actually get to rest too. At the end of the day I’m not as exhausted and I have more time to spend with her. As La Marraine said this evening in our miracle Facebook messenger call (ahhh Internet, I’ve missed you) their brains are well nourished too!