Apart from the cute chip earnt when trying to bite a piece out of her grandparents’ parquet floor, Aurore has only one more milk tooth to push out to have her full set of milk-teeth.
Oh! That’s how often I’ve got round to writing! Oops…
I’ve thought of so many things I could share at so many pointless moments. Little one is growing well and too fast and Mr and I are both well, enjoying our work and family life.
The sun has finally thawed the long winter out of our tired bones. Why it has seemed so long, I’m not completely sure, but we are overjoyed we can see the tail end of it.
Lilac in bloom and lilly of the valley sneaking out early in the courtyard… It’s got to be good!
I forgot how to save photos smaller to upload them, so this became a forgotten draft. Sorry. Just before Christmas I remembered and have been meaning to finish this post since. Here you have it, piccies included.
For my birthday I got 20 red roses and tickets to go and see Sting. (I’ll tell you more about the symphonic experience in a later post.)
Right. I know that wasn’t yesterday, but look anyway:
I thought I’d write and post some photos, specially with summer having rushed off and autumn galloping in…
I’ll start with the Mont Blanc simply because I spent a couple of weeks working in Savoie this summer, took some nice clear mountain pictures and want to show them off.
This little hut was next to our neighbours’ house. Most traditional chalets have a cold store like this where they would have kept things like grain and hay over the winter.
Work isn’t always hard and can have perks you don’t expect.
I spent some very relaxing cooking or washing up times having a book read out loud to me, all about Savoie customs and life in previous centuries. As well as making much lighter work, I learnt loads of old savoyard tricks and admired beautiful old sepia photos.
I worked as home-help for a disabled lady and her sister took us round the mountain in the family’s work van to see sights and go for a walk.
My Beloved having lent me his camera, I was snap-happy, testing features like zoom, panoramic and more.
This combination yielded a squillion photos from which I’ve had a hard job choosing.
Here are my favourites.
See, out of 500 taken, these are only a drop in the ocean and you still have lots of examples of my photographic skill (!) to admire.
(So many in fact that, having finally published this post last night, I decided it was stupidly heavy to load. This morning, I scaled all the photos down for an easier read.)
Luckily for me, fuzzy photos made it a bit less difficult to choose.
The Alps are so beautiful! I keep repeating this and thinking it, over and again, every time I look back at the photos.
May I have inspired you to take a climb and a breath of fresh air!
Next is one of my favourite mountains and I forgot it’s name. It’s a stereotypical mountain shape and I find it so satisfying to look at.
I first thought of the Pic du Midi, but then remembered that’s in the Pyrenees, and anyway the name simply didn’t sound right… Google has come up trumps finding me this link which shows the Aiguille Verte from a different viewpoint.
So the peak with ‘midi’ in its name could have been that one, but judging from the earlier link it’s probably this next spikey friend of Mr Mont Blanc’s.
I’m not sure whether this was the one, but while I was in the Val d’Arly, there was a lot of talk about some awesome engineers and crew managing to figure out how to drain a glacier that was fit to burst above a large alpine town.
It was tense.
Those guys have my respect and then some: great inspiration, resourcefulness and inventiveness and most of all courage to work on the dodgy landscape in the first place.
A climbing frame…
and its natural habitat. 😉
(Argh! The frame extending above a picture, underneath the previous one, is annoying! I’ve successfully fought the previous occurrence with waffle. How does one make a frame obey?)
And a final shot before turning my back on the majestic view.
From left to right: the Aiguille Verte, the Aiguille du Midi, the glacier and Mr Mont Blanc.
I started putting some photos into a holiday message last September and have since forgotten how to shrink them and done other things instead.
A dear friend sent me this yesterday, an old one and one I agree worth pondering today if ever.
“An Obituary printed in a newspaper – Interesting and sadly – rather true
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
– Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
– Why the early bird gets the worm;
– Life isn’t always fair;
– and Maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.
Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.
He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers;
I Know My Rights
I Want It Now
Someone Else Is To Blame
I’m A Victim
Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.”
I’m the best!
Well I think so anyhow 🙂
I’ve just figured out what was amiss and got my internet connecting again!
Skype was the only thing running and the wireless was fine, just the internet… All it came down to was numbers.
I’m proud 🙂
can you tell?
I’m nearly all packed, tomorrow afternoon should see me fully moved into N&S’s spare room, then Saturday morning should see the bulky things and last boxes moved into storage.
A massive massive thank you goes to those who’ve helped me stay sane, be it by helping or keeping me company in some way, or once or twice by getting me out of the house for a breather. All good. Fabrice gets an extra gold star for putting up with tears and frustations, fears and annoyance and staying on the other end of the phone regardless.
Guy’s had his review which confirmed that he’s staying in Bristol.
I’ve packed and weighed in my suitcase for Sunday’s flight to France for my holidays and it’s 20.2kg, leaving me hopeful that 200g is nothing to worry about. I’ll just make sure my hand luggage is under and I can always pull out a couple of T-shirts if need be.
I’m getting way too good at packing cases.
Not as good at boxes. I’ve sorted out less than I needed. I suppose it means I’ll have to sort more when I unpack. The rush of the past few weeks hasn’t given me the time though.
Well, it’s just about bedtime.
I’ve had to say goodnight to my lovely early today and I’m dragging my feet to get up the ladder to sleepy-land. My last night in my loft bed. No-one’s bought it yet. I’m a bit sad about that. But then I suppose it’s what I get for having a big-kid’s bed isn’t it 🙂
I’ve received the best offer of a place to lodge and have said yes. It’s since then turned out even better and classes as Fabulous! It’s just down the road, the room is big enough, the family is lovely, the rent is better than cheap, and they’ve offered me a place to store anything I don’t sell.
I’ll probably move in by end of June though this is to be confirmed.
Fabrice on the other hand has slipped & broken his leg. Now in hospital recovering from Sunday’s operation, he’s sleepy & sounding pretty positive. The consequence though is that there will be no moving things from here to there in July, unless we can make up a new plan for later this summer without involving him. Brain in gear! That’s why I’m glad about being offered storage space.
So God comes up trumps after all methinks. The logic therein of course is His not mine. Once that’s accepted, the fact He’s unchanging & everpresent in mind, it’s chocs away!!
Work’s interesting & keeping me entertained. So far so good.
News from Bristol is an extra 6 weeks trial.
That was last week’s news so it leaves me wit just under 5 weeks to know what I’m doing next, then when Guy decides I’ll either give my notice on the house or tell my landlady who will be moving in.
Fabrice and I are getting on, missing one another, talking loads, being quiet, trying to not run over the free hour time too often, laughing lots, and pulling through our longest ever time without being able to meet up… I dread verbalising that we’re halfway through, but it is a kind of victory anyhow. I assure you that ten weeks is a horridly long time to be deprived of hugs, kisses and being able to see the glint in his eyes 😛
Work’s ticking over. Part of my old team is joining my new house which is both mighty odd and interesting. On investigating a bit more, I’ve sadly confirmed my impression that our big bosses seem out to spite us. So far every single member of my old team has said they got a house which they hadn’t put on their wish-list. Apparently, the reason is that they were skills-matched to the houses they’ve been sent to. So they sent us someone who can’t lift and someone who won’t go near poo or vomit… Logical for a place which requires us to change nappies on kids sometimes as big as teenagers and who have more or less mobility and weight. I dread to think what could have happened if they hadn’t done the skills-matching.
I’m trying to sort through stuff in the house and begin to sell things. I need to decide what to take to France, since it could need storing until I move and also because I’m currently looking at the possibility of shifting furniture plus anything feasible (as in not the clothes I’ll need) over to France during our holidays this summer. Fabrice and I have got hols at the same time and Maman nearly so I need to find out about vans and ferries etc. The logistics are a bit mad but my love is patient and helps keep me sane…
I should be mowing the lawn or at least edging it… I shall begone while it’s still light!