Poney, football, Badoit, and pizza

Today was an extremely busy day. I had to be at the family flat at 10:45 to take over. Isabelle and Basile went to Nantes for a wedding. The older three kids had plans to go camping with scouts. Which left me with Zac.

I had to leave with Verena at 11:30 to take her to her Poney lesson, otherwise known as Equestrian in America. We took our line 13 up to Champs Elysses to catch line 1, which we took all the way to Neuilly, a posh suburb. We got off the metro near the fountain, which was a perfect picture op for Verena since she looked so cute in her Poney garb.
Soon after that picture I looked at the time. We only had 10 minutes to get to the facility. We needed 15 minutes. Oh dear, running running running. I must mention that for the last four days I have been running everywhere. It seems as though I've become chronically late over the last week and I have found myself chasing metros. Nightmare.
The area was gorgeous. I am a big fan of Neuilly now. There are so many trees and it helps with the Fall season turning the leaves all shades of red and orange. We finally arrived and Verena said, "I have a shortcut through this fence, you keep walking and go in the white gate." I did. Well, okay, what do I do after I go in through the white gate? This was a mystery. I found a stable with about ten girls riding. It looked as though it were welcoming an audience. I went upstairs to the seating and began watching. I even opened up my water (sparkling, mind you) and granola bar (thank you Aunt Georgie). After about ten minutes, Verena still hadn't shown up. Back outside I went. I walked through the mud and manure to no avail. I wanted so badly to take pictures of the facilities because it was so incredibly picturesque. I couldn't believe it. Even the smell was great. I mean, if you like the barn and manure smell. I haven't smelled that in over six years. It brought back memories of mornings at Oklahoma State when there was a strong east wind coming through. Mmm mmm, manure.

After walking around for a good twenty minutes, I found her. There were about ten girls in all. Some had beautiful and graceful horses. Some had the short and stubborn ones. Verena had the latter. However, hers wasn't the worst. There was this other little girl on a white horse. I could not stop laughing because the horse wouldn't go. The little girl would jerk her entire body to try and get this dang horse to move. Kicking with both legs while poking and slapping it with her little poney stick. Oh, what a sight!

The funniest part came when it was time to trot and gallop. The horses must have eaten something the night before that didn't agree with them. I was standing at the gate with a very distinguished (and very French) father. Well once the horses started their trot, every single one of them began releasing their flatulence. Let me say that I am trying to use the most sophisticated language to describe this to you. Anyway, it took everything in me not to die laughing. I could feel my body shaking just trying to hold it in. After the second lap of constant toot noises that I will call The Ten Horse Toot, I couldn't hold it in. I let out some pretty loud giggles. Immediately after I did, the father did as well. We laughed for a good long while.

After her lesson we had to run back to the metro, then rush home so that I could get the older kids on the bus to make their trip for scouts. I had completely forgotten what to do for lunch. I didn't have time. I called the boys and told them to eat lunch before we got back. They said "Well what do we eat?" Um, well, something. They usually don't get to decide so it puzzled them as to what they could make. We arrived back and it seemed as though they raided the grocery store; pre-made sandwiches, chips, cookies, Fanta. Verena scarfed down her food and Barth began to pack and I began to yell. For two days I told him to pack. Alright, I won't get into that. We are ready to go when Balthazar says that he isn't going. Great. I text Isabelle to tell her and she writes back with a message of anger that I could not repeat to him or you. I just told him that he needs to make sure that I am present when she arrives home and pours her wrath on him.

Zac and I packed up our bags for a Hillsong picnic and football tourney. We grabbed deux pain au chocolate and some sparkling water for the journey. It was a long ride on the metro, but halfway there I noticed Celine was sitting directly behind me. How does that happen? I introduced her to Zac and he fell in love. Once he realized that she was French and spoke his language, there was no pulling him away from her. We arrived at the parc finally. The boys started the tourney and the girls laid the food out and Zac played with a new little friend.



The winning team

The girls were starting to make up cheers. Some of them were like "Oh my gosh, someone save them. Those cheers are hideous." One gal mentioned that I was a cheerleading and they freaked. Some of the Australians said "But I've never met a real-life cheerleader before!" They asked all sorts of questions. They wanted me to show them some chants to do for the guys, but I said that I couldn't remember many. Then I explained that we would learn them at cheerleading camp and one said "You've been to cheerleading camp? There is actually a camp for cheerleading?" Yeah she was pretty enthusiastic. I've never felt so much like an alien before.

Zac started getting extremely whiney, so we went back. He really wanted Celine to come with us, but I knew we had to be back for dinner. We said goodbye to Celine. She was talking to a group of people, so Zac went over to her. I couldn't resist taking a picture of how cute he was.
I was so tired on the ride back and couldn't bare to think about cooking. I asked Zac if he would want pizza. He was so excited. We stopped at Proxi and bought pizza and Fanta. I thought the kid was going to pass out. He couldn't stop bouncing around. We got home and I was shocked to see Balth on the couch. I assumed he would be out with his friends. I immediately felt horrible that I didn't invite him to the tourney.

He doesn't like cheese so I made some spaghetti for him. We had dinner and some good conversation. He began getting ready to go out and I began packing Zac's bag for a slumber party at my place. Going up the stairs to my studio Zac was all smiles. I asked if he ever stayed the night with Jeannette and he said "No, never!" I asked if he was excited. He responded with, "I am having my first sleepover with...my...NOUSNOUS (pronounced noo-noo)!" Once we got in the door, he ran over to the bed and got under the covers. I put the Chronicles of Narnia on my computer and let him watch it for a while. Then he turned it off, began to read and fell asleep.
It was a good day. Tiring, but very good.

And POOF! I'm French...

Today I went shopping. It's become winter in two days and I have a sweater and a long sleeve tshirt to keep me warm. I figured it was probably time to prepare for a winter I've never known. As many of you ladies know, and some men, an appetite can develop quite fiercely during shopping. Your mind can drift as your look through the racks of clothes and you hardly notice all the walking that you are doing. I got about three miles of walking done in my cowboy boots today. On my way back I stopped at Proxi to grab a snack for lunch. Some friends of mine introduced me to these fiber crackers that look like cardboard, but are surprisingly good. I wanted hummous, but they've been out for DAYS. Instead I grabbed some cheese and Badoit. I got home and began my lunch. As I was eating, I looked at it and realized that I would have never, and I mean, never chosen to eat this before coming to France. Here I was eating cheese, stinky cheese, with fibre crackers and sparkling water. If I were back home in Dallas, I would look at me and laugh. I can't lie, I really like this stuff. Don't hate me because I drink Perrier or Badoit.

My little Green Thumb

It seems as though I've brought out the Green Thumb in little Zacha. By the way, I call him Zacha now. Wednesdays are our long days, so I am always thinking of little activities for us to do. Today's agenda included a picnic, English lessons, and planting Texas Wildflowers. He has known about this for about five days, and for five days it has consumed his thoughts. His brothers encouraged him, but let out giggles because of this innocent enthusiasm for planting flowers and watching them grow. After school the weather wasn't so great, so we had lunch inside. Bummer. We made our way to the flower shop downstairs and purchased a small bag of fertil soil for 1,50 euro. Upstairs we went. I found a pot that had a dead plant in it, so I salvaged it. I poured the soil into the pot as Zacha's eyes twinkled. He was hopping around on his knees.

I handed him the seeds that I brought from home. He started opening the package. He looked and was so upset because they didn't look like seeds. He thought we got jipped. I had to tell him that they all look different because they are different flowers. He was relieved. He could barely wait to get his hands in the dirt.

I told him that he could put the seeds in the dirt. And he did, VERY meticulously. How adorable is that? Afterwards I handed him the stick so that he could stir and till the soil and let the seeds find their home. He was all smiles.

It was time to water our new little seedlings. I let him carry the pot to the sink so that I could show him how to water them, since it will be his job from now on. Kids can get a little overzealous and water plants too much. So I told him that he could "sprinkle" them with water because we don't want them to drown and die. That's what he did - very very carefully.


We found a home for the pot on one of his window sills, right next to Jonah and the whale.

I will keep you updated on the growth of Zacha's little babies.

Yet.Another.Strike

That's right, another strike. They happen quite often around here. I can always tell when there is going to be one by how the police prepare. They put on their armor, which looks like American football padding, and start to head to the end of Rue de Grenelle at Boulevard des Invalides. I was up in my room when the chanting began. I started a conversation on MSN with my friend Katy and it went something like this:

Connie: I've got another strike going on downstairs again.
Katy: Really?
Connie: Yeah.
Katy: Are there megaphones and signs? hahahha
Connie: Yeah.
Katy is laughing at this point because I don't think she was serious when she asked.

There was some guy on a bullhorn and yelling something, which I could hear perfect, but I don't know French...still. Then occasionally other people would start cheering. It honestly sounded like a Friday night football game in Texas. Not only were there megaphones and flags and posters, but there were tons of whistles. That's right, whistles are a must if you are planning to be a part of a strike. Remember that.

For your pleasure, I stuck my head out of my window and took a couple of pictures. I wish I had a good zoom on my camera - or even video so that you could hear the chanting in all of it's glory.


After more time elapsed and the noise still hadn't let up, but actually progressed, I went downstairs to check it out. I was too scared to get much closer considering my luck with taking pictures that are guarding by police.

Welcome to France.

Beloved CHI: March 2003-September 2007

Dear CHI,
Over the last four and a half years, you have served me well. Over the last year, you have complained, but still continued to do a fantastic job. My thick hair that tends to curl at odd place found comfort in your talent. It's true, my hair found it's identity in you. During these years, you cut down my hour of preparation to only twenty minutes. Because of you, I was able to sleep in a little later and still look like I had a professional coiffing. I am sorry if the high voltage of French electric sockets is what caused your sickness and emminent death. It is with sadness that I say goodbye. Thank you for your faithfulness over the years.

CHI
March 2003 Dallas, Texas - September 2007 Paris, France


Without further ado, let me introduce you to Remington. I went to BHV to purchase some mailing envelopes. I decided to check out the 4th, 5th, and 6th floor just to see what they had. Well I happened to stumble across this straightening iron that had ceramic plates and heats up in 60 seconds. CHI, at the beginning, would heat up in 10 seconds. Could Remington compete? For only 19,90 euros (on sale from 29,90 euros) I was willing to take the gamble. Upon arriving at home, I ran to open the box and plug Remington in. I think he can handle the voltage since he is French. After two minutes of Remington-ing my hair, I am extremely happy. I have a new friend. As much as I loved CHI, Remington is filling his shoes quite well.

Let me introduce you...

Remington

Raise your hand!

I am starting to miss teaching. However, my Wednesday English lessons with Zac are enough for me. I pick him up at noon every Wednesday so the day tends to be a little long. I decided a couple of weeks ago that it would be a great time to improve this little guy's English. For months now I have been trying to get him to say "Why?" instead of "For what?" I couldn't figure out why (or "for what") he kept saying that. Then I realized that "why" in French is "pourquoi" whose exact translation into English is "for what". There you go. Now, if he says "for what" I just don't answer until he corrects himself. It's working famously.

The other night we had avocado and vinaigrette for the entree. I took out the pit of the avocado and could not get myself to throw it away. I could teach Zac so much with this one pit. So I kept two; one for him, one for me. I had him help me put the toothpicks into the pit and add water to the glass. We set it by the window in the kitchen. Every morning after breakfast he walks over to check and see if the water level is good. I have done the same in my studio.

This inspired me to plant flowers to add color and life to my flower pots outside my window. I mustn't be outdone by my neighbors! I brought packets of Texas wildflowers and bluebonnets from home. I planted them and watered them a little with hopes they would sprout. After only a few days, they have! I cannot wait to see them bloom. I am giddy with the thought!



Oh how I love science. Be sure to read blogs on the progress of my seedlings and avocado pit. I shall think of a name for my pit...any suggestions? Be creative...

By the way, I know that I don't have enough soil in my pots. I plan to buy some as soon as I find a place that sells it. Remember peeps, we don't have Calloways or Lowe's or Walmart or Home Depot or Wolfe Nursery. I've got it all under control.

Another birthday...

Yesterday really felt like my birthday. Actually I don't really know what birthdays "feel" like. Do you remember when you were a kid and you could hardly sleep the night before your birthday. Just all the excitement to have a day that was all about you? Knowing that you would wake up with your parents saying "Good Morning...Happy Birthday...do you feel any older?" That doesn't happen anymore. However, once you are a big kid and "on your own" and a self-proclaimed, independent person, we tend to make all our days about ourself. We have money in our pockets and we buy what we want, when we want it. That's pretty much how it is. Then birthdays become more of a remind that life is slipping through our hands at a rapid pace because our last birthday was only a week ago, right?

This birthday was different. I had a package from my parents to open. It has been sitting on my sofa for almost a week now, just staring at me. I opened it after I took Zac to school. Today marked my beginning of marathon training so to my surprise, there were two workout outfits and a right shoe! Yeah! Now I have my right shoe that matches one of the left shoes that I received in August. However, to my happiness, but my marathon training's dismay, there was also a fair share of junkfood. Oh Lord, you all know of my self-control in this area. I like candy and it likes me. Thanks Momma and Pops!

Something new that I learned today. You CANNOT add Country Time Lemonade mix to Perrier. The bottle of Perrier resembled something of a bottle of champagne upon popping the cork. The water exploded all over my apartment. I will only put the Country Time Lemonade mix into still water.

Later in the day I checked the mail. TWO MORE PACKAGES! One from Sweet Kayladear and another from my Aunt Georgie.

Kayla had asked a while back what I would like. I gave her one thing and she pulled through. I have looked all over France for this book. It's coming out in theaters soon and I wanted to read it before I saw it. She, being the great friend she is, included the notorious Hot Tamales and popcorn again. Rockstar, that's what she is!

My next package was something of a surprise. My mom mentioned that I was getting something from the great Aunt Georgette, but nothing could have prepared me for the girlish adventure that was neatly tucked inside this little box. It's was a Party In A Box. I will list it all out...

- Hot Tamales
- Lemon Heads
- Granola Bars
- Bunco - Wooo fun times ahead!
- Pin the Tail on the Donkey
- Champagne confetti poppers
- Glitter pens with feathers
- Silly String
- Pink Streamers
and drum roll please...
- A TIARA!!!

I was entirely too spoiled on this day. I had a card from my sister and brother-in-law and Morgan...it scared me when I opened it. I need to figure out how to post a video on here. You HAVE to heard the song in this card. Zac and Verena have been carrying it around the house opening and closing, opening and closing it over and over again.

I had emails, text messages, voicemails from amazing friends all day long. Thank you all for remembering me. I love and miss you dearly. Thanks for making 28 so great. I'm a rhymer.

28

I was invited by my lovely friend Anne to come and have lunch with her family this afternoon. Celine, her sister, and Gaby, her brother, are also good friends of mine. What a clan! So I made it over there around 12:30 to hang out and eat with the fam. The view ranked as my number one. They live in the 13th, which is in the south of Paris. From the 23rd floor balcony we could see the Eiffel Tower, Invalides, Sacre Coeur, Sainte Chappelle, well everything. Absolutely breathtaking.

We sat down to eat and of course, it was fantastic! At the end of the meal, they went to the kitchen to get the dessert. A little while later I heard all three of them singing Happy Birthday! I was shocked. I was so humbled. I have been in Paris for three months and I feel that friends I have made are friends that I have had for years. Anne handed me a gift bag. In it was two precious things. One was something I needed for sure. A recipe book with PICTURES. I have a recipe book at the family's flat, but there aren't any pictures. I just need to know what my goal is? What is my meal supposed to look like? Now I have a book that shows it to me. There was also this sweet little silver and purple necklace. To add to it, the cake was brownie-like and absolutely delicious. I think it's the first cake I've had in a very long time. I had two pieces. For some of you that know me well, it goes without saying.


A picture with Isabelle (childhood friend of Anne's), me, Celine, and Anne. Gaby had already left for Connect Group, but I am sure he is fine with not being in the picture with four girls.

Celine and I left to catch the bus to Chatelet. The bus stop was so pretty, so I took this picture to capture it all. It's at Porte d'Italie.


We walked from Notre Dame to Chatelet and chatted for an hour when we got there. We had a strange encounter with a strange man. He asked us for directions and we said we didn't know and he kept standing there looking at us. It was about a good five minutes. It was so awkward and uncomfortable.

Celine's connect group arrived, so I left. I had a couple of hours until I need to leave for a girls night of hanging out and talking. Jasmin said to arrive at 6pm since their connect group was running late. Great, more time! I left around 5:45 so that I could arrive a few minutes late and not arrive as Johnny-on-the-Spot. It happened that way though. It was six o'clock on the dot. I knocked on the door and there were a few nervous eyes. I just chatted in the kitchen with a couple of gals. Then I noticed that James walked in. Huh? Then I started thinking that something was going on. After thirty minutes of cueing into things, they announce my birthday...SURPRISE. It's actually funny because it's a known fact that the French are always late. I was told to get there at 6:00 and I did, only no one else. It was a great time of talking and eating and eating and singing and eating. There was some killer Tiramisu that I stalked for the night. Everyone was in good spirits and I was able to ring in my new year with good friends. Sweet Eric came in with four long-stem roses. I've never had long-stems before and definitely not in Paris. They were from him and the Gim's (Celine, Anne, and Gaby). They are now in a vase on my desk looking out my window at the city.









Thanks to ALL of you that put all of it together. It's been an adventure and huge blessing to walk beside you over the last three months. Paris is a great place to turn 28...

My feet hurt

My favorite thing to do in Paris is walk. It doesn't matter where I walk. I always learn something and I am constantly finding something beautiful that I haven't seen before. Today I needed to find a few token items near Notre Dame. I took my camera with the intention that I would walk around and take a few snaps. I have found that it is such a stress reliever to walk and take photos. Not sure why that is, but it is.

Once I bought the items, I was off on my journey. Watching the river is unlike anything. The breeze of Paris air, the blue of the sky, the sound of the river, and smells of the French food - it is what defines living here. Of course there are the amazing views and history, but not everyone gets to experience half of the greatness without pausing for a full day and walking alone and taking it all in.

This man on the steps of the Seine understands what I am talking about...

Fall is here! I am really excited about this, but I had no idea it would turn THIS cold this early. I am hoping that we get a little more warmth before the bitter cold makes it's way through the city. As you can see, the trees are turning. They actually started changing colors soon after Summer arrived. El Nino really threw the seasons off.

On my walk, I see a few cool things. Um like a light post.

And the Velib bikes. These are the public transporation bicycles that are great if you return them on time. If you forget to, then you might get a nasty little bill on your credit card. No this did not happen to me, but I will say that Velib is a nightmare on wheels. I opted not to blog about my two experiences with one. However, bikes and me have never gotten along - 1) Sophomore year at OSU I was riding my bike across the pedestrian walk during class changes when it's really busy. My shoelace got caught in the chain. My bike stopped mid-stroke and I went kerplunk in the street and stayed in the street because I was attached to this large hunk of metal - 2) That night my bike was stolen - 3) New bike, same year. Riding through Lewis Field parking lot and the left petal falls off. I pulled out my handy toolkit at home and realized that the grooves were stripped. No way I could fix 'er, so Dad fixed 'er. 4) Bike was stolen - 5) Two years later when leaving work at the athletic department, I saw my bike. I knew it was my bike because I had this horrific, gold ZTA sticker on the frame. I guess I put that on there in during the three weeks that I was actually a Zeta. I had a picture of myself posing with my "Zeta Bike", so I took it to the police. Since I had proof, they released the bike to me. However, it was so rusted that I couldn't ride her much longer. To make a short story long, here are the Velib bikes.

The building where Marie Antoinette was housed before her beheading


Pont Neuf

Light posts, again. They are just too pretty. Especially compared to the grey/silver ones at home that have no aesthetic value whatsoever.


Love birds. Every bench in Paris looks like this. Honest.

Bridges, bridges, and more bridges. This is Pont Neuf again, except on the south section. It crosses the tip of Cite (that's the portion to the left) and has a view of Pont des Arts.

Pont des Arts again...from the other side of Pont Neuf. This one has a view of the Eiffel Tower.

Looking back onto Pont Neuf

Random things along the way...




I was walking and noticed all these artists and their art propped up against this beautiful building. It is rather modern compared to the traditional Haussman style buildings, but still gorgeous. I kept walking and saw the front finally. It is the Musee D'Orsay. This is where all of the French Impressionist art is. I plan to go very soon and cannot wait. I was a part of UIL competition in fifth grade. I had to memorize all of the historical paintings from Renoir, Rembrandt, Picasso, de Vinci, and some I can't remember. Memorizing the name of the painting and it's exact spelling (even in French) was part of the task. I LOVED it. Never did I think that one day I would see those paintings with my own eyes.




I continued on my walk, but was nearing home. No big plans for the day, except to rest my feet. I have a few hours before I need to be dressed and on my way to a birthday party for a couple of cool girls from church.