healing simplicities

I miss Shereen dreadfully and tomorrow I shall visit Baboushka and cheer her up.

blah blah blah I am back.

On the third, a seven year old boy named Ethan said that I looked like Michael Jackson. Over the next two days we kinda became friends after I drew a spider on his face, and he elaborated on this, saying it was my hair that caused this resemblance.

On the fourth, we went to Pont L’eveque, which is basically where we do the groceries. There was horse riding in the afternoon, and I lost skin off my knuckles. Then later the horse went and stepped on my foot and just yknow, stood there for a good half a minute before I managed to push him away. This hurt quite a bit at the time, but no significant damage was done. My knuckles are scarred, though. Later we ended up at the beach and I walked waist deep into the sea in my jeans to stop a rebellious little girl from going out too far. I hate kids.

The fifth! More horse riding, this time with a horse that hated water, which would’ve been okay if the sprinklers hadn’t been on. This time I actually felt all my sore muscles, and in the evening it hurt my back to take in a deep breath. This was most interesting, as everything felt different to any of the usual soreness. Ethan’s little sister Jane, who is apparently a terror (but I just find her such a little person), took me everywhere by the hand. Kids are just lovely, it’s awesome.

Nothing really happened on the sixth, except we went swimming with some disgusting obnoxious girl named Judith. She was terrible, and attention seeking and loud and a real glutton. Which would be forgivable if she was the slightest bit interesting, but all she had to say was that the food was SO GOOD in FIVE MILLION DIFFERENT WAYS IN FRENCH.

The seventh was more horse riding which was cut short because of rain, and then in the evening it was sunny, and we lay on deck chairs doing silly exercises till it rained on our faces. Rain is just epic.

According to my notes nothing happened on the eighth except that I wore a skirt and we went to the pool. Something to note is that all the riding and swimming takes place in Deauville, and the water in the pool is salty, and I find it rather cold, but this is perhaps because it is indoors. The ninth was just really hot and the girls and I were bored so we tried to climb the apple tree.

On Friday the tenth, lili, who was the lady that took care of the girls and did a bit of house keeping, and jerome’s mother had a spat. It was over trivial idiotic things but Lili is apparently not coming back which is a terrible loss, as jerome’s parents are seriously not going to be able to take care of those girls alone. Both warring parties then disappeared for the rest of the day, and I did the lunch dishes because no on knew how to start the dishwasher.

Who knows what this day is, but there was horse riding with a rather rebellious horse named Gringo. I seriously love this horse. Clarisse and Julia, who are the relatives in Deauville, came over for lunch, and I taught Karina and Julia to play checkers. This was just a lovely day, we sat on the grass and chilled. That evening, Karina and I started to tackle the invasion of dandelions and stinging nettles in the garden, but at about 8 we walked over the the neighbouring farm to get some cows milk. The farmers mother took our bottles, and then just stuck her arm upto her elbow in like a vat of milk, and handed it over. We only got to see two of the cows as we’d missed the milking, but they were absolutely gorgeous cows. Karina made pasta, because I’d mentioned that Hugette’s food was /just cooked/ which really was getting boring as I am accustomed to the epicness that is my mother. Then there was a jazz concert in the town, and everyone attending was old and white and one woman kept giving me dirty looks which was just amusing.

On Sunday, we went to pont l’eveque to buy a chicken, so I could roast it with garlic. These people had no garlic, at all. And almost EVERYTHING we cook in my house starts with a bit of garlic. You’d be hard pressed to find a meal where we don’t have garlic. I’m sure it’s never happened. But anyway, we bought some garlic at pont l’eveque, and a chicken. The chicken had LEGS and a HEAD and these were removed in front of my face and it was VERY different to buying chicken here in ridiculously hot AUH. I also bought epic strawberry soap for my sister and for Shereen! Somehow in the evening we were in Deauville and I went to a bookstore where we met Clarisse and Nicolas, who is Julia’s brother. It was a sorta meet nico, kiss nico, say see you later nico affair, which is a great deal nicer than the OMG HI IMAGINE MEETING YOU IN MARINA MALL sort of affair, but anyhow.

On Monday the girls went swimming and I walked about Deauville because the salt water and the cold sort of put me off. There was a man sewing a button onto his jacket in the street. As usual there was no one remotely near my colour, though I did see some leathery sun baked Europeans. We went to Clarisse’s for lunch, which was a most animated affair, one that my family would be totally incapable of. Anyhow we had some wonderful ice cream for dessert and I was offered grigottines which were terrible and didn’t taste of anything but alcohol and caused some sort of exothermic reaction in my mouth. The girls went swimming again in the compound pool, while I sat in the sun with Julia miserably eyeing the clouds that were doing nothing to shield me. Bad show, Europe, bad show. Paloma probably did something adorable, as I have a note that says “oh paloma,” but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. The two of us made the chicken though, with lemon and garlic and some herbs I found in a bottle and salt but NO PEPPER. She came by while it was baking and then asked me “how do I know to make this?” Her grandmother refused to eat, which I also found amusing. That chicken was epic, but the potatoes Karina made were more epic, and everyone else was happy so boo.

Tuesday was the 14th of July, and we went to the beach and buried ourselves in sand. Didn’t watch the fireworks because Karina and Jerome were leaving for Paris that night. Paloma said goodbye to her mum with a kiss sur la bouche, and she made valentine and I count to sixteen. Right after she said it was my turn, “mais pour un, parce que c’est la premiere fois.” On Wednesday the girls went swimming again, and I gave them a shower because seriously, their hair was getting a bit filthy, and no one was really bothered. This is a sad thing. I needed to shampoo their hair, so I put shorts on and got in the tub with them. Paloma wouldn’t let me dry her hair though, because “c’est mon corps, et c’est moi qui decide!” I told her that she was difficult, but cute, and then a while later tried to dry her again while she was distracted, and she ran out screeching “t’es mechant!” When I stopped her and asked her if she really meant it, she said, matter of fact, “oui, mais tres mignon.”

Nothing really happened for the next few days, so I shall just end the post on the epic part of my stay here, mmkay.

although the answer was vamos en taxi a la casa, this  would not be the case, and we walked home from the eiffel tower. this post is going to be shorter than I have time for, due to a few annoying facts..

1- French keyboard

2- Every single word I type ends up underlined in red

3- bleh

anyhow, I am very tired and very happy and not in the least bit hungry! And just yesterday I had chocolate cake with something to do with marscapone or something, went out for ice cream, rode a caroussel in gleeful abandon, napped, found my alter ego burrito, missed a bus and stuff and stuff and stuff!

(the flight was boring, btw)

and yet with all this to fill up my day and tire me out I am STILL unable to sleep! but this is okay it is the only time I get to be alone. 

also the canary loves me!

also I love kids! apparently you can made a chèvre out of fromage and crème fraîche! and I love how they try to teach me spanish!

 boom-de-ah-da boom-de-ah-da boom-de-ah-da boom-de-ah-da

So like, Imma totally going to France yo. You guys gotta keep things up n runnin' while I gone, mmkay?

ANYhow...

So basically I'm packed, unpacked, repacked, prepared, unprepared and totally woo. All thats left to do is take a shower, eat dinner, chill till eleven and go to the airport and get on a plane and whoooosh. Squeet~!

I'm SO not excited, at all...

Right, so I'll be in Paris on the 2nd, and the 19th, which are the only times I'll perhaps-maybe-I suppose have access to the interwebs. Of course I will regale you with tales of adventure and food and lovely little girls that demand 500 percent of my attention, but you'll have to settle for it in blocks, or a block, however things turn out. Obviously this won't be the case if I actually do have myself some interwebs, but yeah...

Woo plane trip by meself and no one to tell me to eat the food or go to sleep or switch seats! Yay France! ahahaha!

coherent sense next time I promise.

holiday wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

:DDD