French la Vie

Gabriel Adores Olivia

A happy little family.

Gabriel adores Olivia.

 

When Gabriel started to consume solids I would say,

"Mmm, mmm, mmm, yummy for the tummy."

Gabriel started to say this too, especially when something was extra delicious.

He refers to being hungry, or wanting something to eat as, "Yum".

When Gabriel first saw his mother he let out a giggle, nearly leaping out of his father's arms

to get to his mother and his sister. He was very aware that a baby was coming referring to her as Papilotte.

After he kissed the baby he said, "mmm, mmm, mmm." in the sweetest little voice.

My heart melted with tenderness.

 

 

 

Olivia 

(In French it is pronounced with three syllables and in English four I am told.)

Eight pounds.

Born October 21.

Chelsea had a natural, easy, speedy (two hours plus) labor. Amazing. 

Breastfeeding.

 

Nobody guessed name, date, weight, and hair correctly in the guessing game.

Though some of you did guess the name, and a few the date, even fewer the weight...

Original I thought Ophelia, 10 lbs, October around the full moon and no hair.

 

 

 

Hours old.

Thank you for supporting our family with love and kindness.

Overload to happiness.

My Afternoon Date

We walked hand in hand

to the ice cream shop.

After that treat we around the corner to the park. 
A band was playing so we stopped and listened.

 

 

If ever you want an authentic view of Paris, go to this park on a Sunday afternoon or any day after 4:30.

Park Villmin

 

For a delicious original bit to eat breakfast, brunch, lunch, drinks, or dinner... outdoor dining too.

Cafe A

 

Fav handmade ice cream La Fabrique a Gateaux et a Glaces

A neighborhood ice cream shop with classic and original flavors.

Along this street and the surrounding blocks is the Canal Saint Martin. 

Shops, restaurants, small hang outs, very local flair.

Boheme style of Paris.

___

 

 

 

The Artist and His Animals

 

 

Gabriel's artwork is his gift to me.

I love the various hoove colors.

And who stays in the lines without being told so?

Gabriel does. 

The striped leg,

The orange mouth.

One yellow leg.

So many intentional details.

I am going to Paris tomorrow to be with the two little chunks of my heart.

xxx

Breaking News: La Rentree

First day of school.

Someone is not happy.

As Gabriel said this morning, "Maybe we can figure out a way so I do not have to go to school?"

And what is Olivia thinking? She begged to put on a backpack and to go to school.

The two remind me of Chelsea and Sacha, though Sacha is Gabriel and Olivia is Chelsea. Oh, and that feels like yesterday.

"In France, school is compulsory from three years old (since the beginning of the 2019/20 school year) until 16.

A child's year of birth determines when they start school,

and the school year starts at the beginning of September."

I personally think that it is too young and shouldn't be compulsory.

School in Europe,https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-43562029. Click here to read more.

 

Last year, Gabriel started school.

And it went well until...

____

 

Luckily, the day ended well, especially when Gabriel found out Billie -, his best friend, was in his class.

Billie is his superhero, and she is unlike Gabriel. A little firecracker of energy in the playground daring to do things that Gabriel admires and cheers her on.

What I think about the French Education:

 

Someone once told me that the difference between a French person and an American person could be summarized like this:

"If you put a French person and an American person in the middle of a dense jungle and asked them to find their way out, the French person would bend down and look at the soil for clues, look up to see which way the wind blew the trees and which way the sun was moving across the sky... in other words, the French person would study the situation at hand before making a move. On the other hand, the American would climb up the nearest tree, look around, and holler, "HEY, Anyone out there?"

In general, because thankfully we cannot label a whole country, let alone a single person, the French are more methodical in their approach, trusting that they can find their way by themselves. In contrast, the Americans look at teamwork and will go on a limb to find a new way.

Why?

If you ask three hundred thousand French people, "Did you have fun (as in liked, enjoyed, considered it the best years ever...) school?" Two hundred and ninety-eight of them would answer solemnly, "No." Then, they would look at you oddly and ask, "Why?"

French students go to school to learn how to study. Fun is rarely in the equation. On the first day of school, they are taught to come into the classroom and sit at their desk quietly. They are not allowed to talk unless they are asked a question. If the teacher asks the students for a response or "Who knows the answer?" The French child is supposed to raise their hand no higher than their shoulder, with their pointer finger in the air. Unlike an American student, they cannot wave their arm frantically and excitedly say, "I know, I know, ask me!!!!"

The French are taught from a very early age to sit still, listen, obey, and if in doubt, re-think; if you don't know the answer, listen, and if you think you are right, you probably are wrong.

Therefore, when they know the answer, they know they are right. Their opinion is well thought out; they can back it up with many examples. They will listen to your arguments and ideas but ultimately believe they are never wrong.

American students are taught they are the masters of their universe and can accomplish whatever they want if they believe it, work hard towards it, and have the money to get it.

The Americans and the French come from very different upbringings, educational approaches, and ways to be. In France, you rarely hear: "If there is a will, there is a way!" Watching my children go through the French schools and listening to many of them talk about schools, I believe I would have suffered dramatically in their mold. I was raised to climb a tree and believe in myself, even if I didn't have a single example to back it up.

This is not to say either approach is better or worse than the other. Both have advantages, both are worthy, and both ways of educating can shape a different way of thinking.

In the end, the American who climbed the tree and the French person who studies the surroundings find their way... and both ways bring for an exciting conversation at the end of the day.

 

Tatty McLeod says it best... as she inmates a British woman and a French woman on many differences between the two. Tatty is French/ English

___

 The Local: an online newspaper, a very good source of French for ex-pats

and others who are interested in life in France

 

Their description of going back to school and the meaning of "La Rentree."

 

 

Cooking with Olivia

Set up a makeshift kitchen outside

Take a cup of water, some dinette set dishes, a spoon...

Uncooked pasta,

mint, basil, oregano, rosemary, lavender and bay leaf.

Rocks of course.

 

We spent the morning pretending.

Olivia likes basil, pasta, and rocks, the rest forget about it.

-----

I found a lovely old child's cupboard at the brocante. The makeshift kitchen.

The Memorable Haircut

  

A little haircut by the pool for Gabriel while on vacation. I thought I was giving him his first haircut. Such a memorable spot, a good memory creation I would be smiling about for years.

I know how to cut hair. You will never guess where I learned unless I wrote it on my blog years ago. I want to remember if I have mentioned it here. But I need help remembering.

 

My daughter burst my bubble by telling me I had given Gabriel's first haircut about two years ago, in Willows in my Mother's kitchen. But do I remember doing so? Terrible! I didn't believe her; I was convinced this was his first haircut. My daughter brought photos to correct me, and I looked at them in disbelief. 

I am not losing my marbles, maybe just a few sweet memories.

Thank goodness, I can still make them.

River Swim

 

 

"The Ardèche River is a prominent river located in the Rhône-Alpes region of France. It is known for its stunning landscapes and the famous Ardèche Gorge, a natural wonder that attracts tourists and outdoor enthusiasts. The river is popular for various water activities, such as canoeing, kayaking, and swimming." 

 

 

 

We went to the river for a swim. Fish were visible in the water, and the rocks along the bank were slippery. The water had a greenish tint, which made me hesitant to get in.

Gabriel, known for his overly cautious nature and doubtfulness, surprised us by jumping in and swimming across to the other side with his Dad and Yann. It was a wondrous sight! His bravery encouraged me to overcome my reservations and join him in the river.

In the end, he managed to swim back and forth eight times.

Olivia was the first to jump in. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera ready at the time. She's genuinely fearless at times, especially when compared to Gabriel. Her 'go for it' attitude often paves the way for him, motivating him to follow suit.

 

Selfie by Chelsea

 

Photo by Chelsea.

Olivia is decked out. She liked that we both had glasses on.

Exploring Today

 

I know I shouldn't, but how can I not, given how life unfolds daily among us?

I wonder what this world will be like when Gabriel is my age.

Will it be as enchanting? Peaceful? Sacred? Full of life?

If he becomes a grandparent,

Will his grandchildren's hands be stained blue from blackberries they collected on the untamed bramble?

Will they follow dragonflies admiring their dance alongside the reeds?

Will they grab a fallen tree branch and use it to explore a creek until dinnertime?

Will they have nature as their playground?

Will the sunshine rosy their cheeks?

 

(Thank you for your lovely notes about Yann's photo of me. But please do not hold your breath for another one of his photos. It could be another ten years from now.)

An Afternoon Treat

 

An afternoon treat at a cafe in Cassis with Olivia, and Gabriel.

One of them delighted in a sugar crepe,

while the other devoured a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Meanwhile, one of them amused themselves with an empty chocolate ice cream dish.

The excitement continued as one of the little ones suddenly stood up, pretending to be a lion.

The cherry on top-- started with one of them having a meltdown when we switched seats due to the heat. 

---

Crepe or Galette

from Crepe Magique

Click below to find out more.

Everyone who traveled a little will tell you the same thing : crepes can be found all around the world. But they are made with very different types of flour !
The basic principle if really simple : it consists in cooking a blend of cereals and water on a hot surface which, once hardened, is usually garnished before being folded and ready to eat.

• In China, there are crepes made with rice flour.
• In South America maize flour is used to make tortillas, whereas in India ''dosas'' are made of chickpea or lent flour.
• In Europe and Russia, buckwheat flour is used.
• But it is certainly wheat flour that is found in most countries : in North America (pancakes), in Europe and Japan (crepes, piadinas, etc.), in Northern Africa ("msemen").

TRADITIONAL FRENCH CREPES

CREPES

Crepes are made of a blend of eggs, melted butter, milk and wheat flour. The resulting batter is used to make savory crepes, for example those garnished with ham and cheese. In order to make sweet crepes, all you need is add a little sugar and flavor to the batter. This variety of crepes can be filled with chocolate, jam or honey.

Traditionally-made crepes are paper-thin and made of salted butter so as to become crispy on the edges while remaining soft in the center. Their color is yellow, with browning.

Discover our crepe recipe

SAVOURY CREPES

Savoury crepes (called "galettes in French) are made solely of water, salt and buckwheat flour. This variety of batter is gluten-free. They are more savory than crepes and their color is brown. Galettes are generally filled with salty ingredients, although salted butter caramel can also be used. You can tell a galette from a crepe thanks to the holes that are due to the fermenting of the batter.
Traditionally-made galettes are made of salted butter too.

Our galette recipe here

SO : CREPE OR GALETTE ?

Here is a recap chart presenting the differences between crepes and traditional French galettes.

CREPE

Flour type: Wheat

Other ingredients: Eggs, milk, butter

Presence of gluten: Yes

Batter standing time: 2 hours

Salted butter cooking: Yes

Cooking temperature: 200°C (400°F)

Color after cooking: Yellow

Presence of holes: No

Thinness: Very thin

Sweet fillings: Yes

Savory fillings: Yes

Taste: Light

GALETTE

Flour type: Buckwheat

Other ingredients: Salt, water

Presence of gluten: No

Batter standing time: 6 hours

Salted butter cooking: Yes

Cooking temperature: 250°C (480°F)

Color after cooking: Brown

Presence of holes: Yes

Thinness: Average thin

Sweet fillings: Seldom

Savory fillings: Yes

Taste: Strong

Via Crepe Magiques 

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

Who Is God

 

Walking hand in hand along the crowded streets of Paris on their way to school, little Gabriel, as curious as four years old can be, turned to his agnostic Daddy with yet another question in the slew of questions a child can ask on any given day. "Daddy, who is God?" he inquired as he had asked before, with his curious eyes looking up at him.

Martin paused momentarily, finding the right words, "Gabriel," he began, "God is love. God exists in everyone and everything around us. Although we can't see God with our eyes, we can feel God..."

Now you must know that the word "Feel" sounds the same as the word "Smell,"

Which in French is "Sentir."

Gabriel thought about it ...

Martin wondered if he understood as he could see Gabriel's wheels were turning and how he would answer him if this conversation went further.

And then, in an unexpected twist, Gabriel replied while nodding his head, "So, God is like a fart." he said as one would say, "The sky is blue."

Martin was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond to this surprising analogy. Yet, his parental instincts kicked in, and he managed to stifle a laugh, understanding the whimsical connection Gabriel had made was not in malice. 

And so, another memory was etched of the unpredictability of raising a child.  

A child's magical and mystical perspective effortlessly intertwines, shaping their lives and understanding of the world. Our role is to be present, cherishing their candid and imaginative musings.

 

A Child's World

When a child learns to communicate, those first words emerge like candy from a dispenser, sweet and colorful. They gift us with their newly found words. Each word holds a world of meaning, opening doors to deeper connections and understanding.

I find myself utterly captivated by this spontaneous expression. It reminds me that life's simplest moments can be the most profound. Children possess an innate ability to communicate from the heart what matters to them.

And oh, how I listen! With rapt attention, I savor each note of their composition. I am moved by the authenticity of their communication, unfiltered and raw, reminding me of the need to express ourselves with our language, be it in love, frustration, joy... or "I have something to say!"

The child's language journey is a masterpiece in progress, a testament to the power of curiosity, creativity, and connection.

Gabriel's English blossoms daily. On the other hand, Olivia, unlike Gabriel at his age, enjoys playfully repeating English words. It's endearing to see Gabriel watching her intently, seemingly thinking, "Hey, I could do that too!"

The other day, as I was preparing lunch in the kitchen, Gabriel suddenly jumped into a conversation with me. His enthusiasm caught me off guard, and I struggled to comprehend his words. However, I was determined to understand what he wanted to convey. I asked him to repeat his words and tried echoing what I thought he meant. Unfortunately, my attempts to grasp his message were in vain, as I seemed to be missing the mark completely. His French is far better than his English, and he only tries to speak English to me. 

Patiently, Gabriel repeated his words slowly, letting me piece together his darling thought. With a joyful gleam in his eyes, he shared, and I understood after his fifth attempt,

"Bambi (his beloved stuffed animal) "fais" is fist feps. I fee em! I fo appy, I appy tears."

I repeated, "Bambi took his first steps! And you saw him! You are so happy! You have Happy Tears!"

He held Bambi closed and beamed, "Yes!"

I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sheer sweetness of Gabriel's imagination. His love for Bambi and his rich emotional expression of joy. Knowing that the first steps are a significant milestone in a baby's "life" were heartwarming. It was a reminder of how children observe our attitudes, actions, emotions... our responses to life and learn from them.

As I hugged him tightly, I marveled at his sharing with me and the beautiful emotions he could now express in words, in happy tears.

Exploring By the Creek

Hand in hand,

we skipped toward the creek's edge, a stone's throw from our home

we roamed, 

Early in the morning, racing against the soon-to-be afternoon heat,

we set forth on a quest with nature's rhythm as our guide.

 

 

 

"Have you ever seen a dragonfly?" I asked, the memories of my childhood flooding back. "When I was little, they were everywhere, along with caterpillars. Countless, they were! We had to walk on our tiptoes carefully, you know, not to squish them. Can you imagine a sidewalk teeming with brown furry caterpillars?" I said as he gazed up at me, trying to envision the scene I painted with my words. "And dragonflies perched on our shoulders!" His eyes widened with wonder, but then a shadow of fear crossed his face. "I scared of dis!" Gabriel is a shy little person when it comes to experiencing something he doesn't know; he is sweet and apprehensively sensitive to the world around him; holding my hand tightly, we meandered toward the creek, and I knew he wouldn't dare dip his toes in the water no matter how much coaxing and comforting I offered. So, on a muddy wet rock due to the rain the night before, we settled, with Gabriel in my lap, finding safety in my embrace.

"Where are the dragonflies? And the fishes?" Gabriel questioned as he panned the creek's surroundings. "We have to be very still, allowing nature to feel that we are not a threat," I whispered, encouraging him to be patient and observe. 

We sat in delicious silence together, sipping in the soothing breeze and meditative creek. Time seemed to take us in as we blended with nature's rhythm, slowly lifting its veil; Our surroundings came alive. Gabriel turned to me with the biggest silent wow expression on his face. A dragonfly landed gracefully on a nearby reed, its blue iridescent wings shimmering in the sunlight, matching the joy of Gabriel's delight.

 

(Large metallic damselfly with fluttering, butterfly-like wings.)

Gabriel's eyes lit up with awe as he marveled at the delicate creature. "Look, Vavie, a dragonfly!" he whispered excitedly. I smiled and nodded, savoring the moment of discovery and connection. "You see, Gabriel, this is the gift of being patient!"

In that stillness, we became one in nature's play. With each passing second, Gabriel's fear softened, replaced by curiosity and awe. In silent harmony, we observed the dragonflies fluttering and the fishes swimming while water striders raced here and there on the creek's bed. We were witnesses to nature's unfolding before our very eyes. 

 

 

As we sat in quiet wonder, a playful squirrel caught our attention, darting along the tree branches with lightning speed. Gabriel's eyes sparkled with delight, and he giggled, "The squirrel is fast, Vavie!" I nodded in agreement, marveling at how nature rewarded us.

"Did you know, Gabriel," I said, "that a dragonfly is also incredibly fast? Some say it can fly as swiftly as a cheetah runs!" He turned around, eyes wide with surprise, and said, "No, Vavie! That can't be true!" I chuckled and replied, "Well, nature holds surprises."

"We'll have to look it up when we go home," I suggested, and he eagerly nodded.

 

 

We headed home for lunch with full hearts and empty stomachs.

We chattered with excitement about all that came into sight.

The creek, oh how it dazzled us, a wondrous, magical place,

With awe in every word we spoke and gratitude on our faces.

"Next time, we will put our feet in the water, okay?" I asked, knowing the answer.

 

NOTE:

"According to legend, Mary Magdalene left the Holy Land and found refuge in the Massif de la Sainte-Baume to continue life as a hermit and to do penance. Her endless tears flowing freely gave birth to the Huveaune. Lucy + Jorge Orta drew inspiration from the Mary Magdalene myth to create Marie La fée de la source. Alone in the woods and kneeling over one of the Huveaune’s sources, she bestows an offering of water upon us. In the water cycle, Marie represents the moment of outpouring, when water contained in the earth suddenly bursts to the surface and becomes a source. She is a symbol of giving and sharing.

Marie La fée de la source was inaugurated on April 6, 2013, in the Martellières, Saint-Zacharie." 

 

The legends

There are many legends here, and they begin in the Paleolithic period. In Antiquity, barbaric rituals were carried out on altars in the forest. Blood flowed in large quantities, turning the moss red. The forest was formerly called Our Lady of the Waters. Water is indeed everywhere on the mountain range, and is said to be Mary-Magdalene’s tears.

Click on both to discover more.

 

 

 

The Walled Garden

Beneath the vast tree's shade,

a peaceful place to be.

A friend's garden wall,

Olivia's wonderland unveiled.

Where butterflies dance,

and rocks await her hand's embrace,

Crunching leaves' symphony,

enchantment in simplicity's grace.

 

Child’s Play

 

Two antique toy horses with two little people having fun playing with them.

Should I be mindful because the toy horses are collectible?

Nah.

Memories are more valuable.

The toy horses have endured many children,

And this may be their last leg, but I doubt it.

Gabriel and Olivia are not galloping on them. They sit and giggle.

Oh, and Gabriel has created a bubble paper collar for his horse.

 

Curls in the Lead

 

One similarity between these two little ones is their untouched, curly hair. 

Gabriel’s hair remains uncut, while Olivia's is finally growing beyond peach fuzz.

 

 

Bastille Celebration in Cassis

photo via Martin

We told Gabriel about the fireworks. When the evening grew darker and darker, the fireworks would begin, booming loudly and shining bright like thousands of stars in the sky. He tried to stay awake, but neither the booming firecrackers nor the glittering stars overhead could keep his eyes open.

Sweetness Overload

Waiting for us when we returned home was this little one.

After an 11-hour drive from Italy, he renewed us with his smile and hugs.

Hand in hand,

we went to the fountain to see the fish, smell the overloaded rose bush, and then rub our palms together with lavender and breath in its summer scent.

Olivia will come with Chelsea in a few days.

 

Memories I Want to Keep of Gabriel

Gabriel had something important to tell me, and just like that, he started to speak English. Becoming bilingual is not as easy as one would think, and it certainly comes in many forms. Some people are born into a bilingual family, some study a foreign language, and for others like me, it is more like sink or swim: I paddled.

Chelsea only speaks English to Gabriel and Olivia, Chelsea and the children speak French to Martin, and Martin speaks English but mainly only to me. I speak English to everyone in my family, and they all speak English to me; Yann speaks French to everyone but not to me, and Gabriel speaks French to everyone too, but recently started speaking English to me! Olivia smiles.

As I was saying, Gabriel had something important to tell me. His words were heavily accented as he searched for them enthusiastically. He said, "Vavie, at our ouse ze washing (turning his hand around in a circle to express machine), (so I added machine?) Yes, ze washing machine tis... At this point, I watched him think, admiring his attempt to express something important with his limited vocabulary or, I should say, his newfound tongue in a second language. I understood instantly he did not know the word in English. As he searched, I recalled my attempt to use words I knew for words I didn't know. "Soup-Air I used for Super" The French use the word Super more often than we do in the States, and it doesn't sound corny. I said "Soup-Air" to replace words such as great, fabulous, wonderful, nice... it is a super word to have in your pocket as is, "Ca-Va," which means an entire mini vocabulary for the French. It saved me in many conversations. 

Anyway, Gabriel had something important to tell me and just like that he found a word he needed to tell me about ze washing machine... he said, "Mommy telephone un personne ze washing machine is sicky." Sicky meant broken. Wow, he did it. He communicated with the words he knew brilliantly! Sicky is a child word we use to describe a child when they are not well and the washing machine isn't well.

 

 

 

 

 

A Recapture of Gabriel's Birthday Party

Gabriel and the Dinosaur Cake

 

 

 

My nephew Joe and his girlfriend, Jazmin, from California, are visiting us.

This morning I told them they were responsible for creating a dinosaur cake for Gabriel's fourth birthday. They rose to the occasion without hesitation, even though neither had baked a cake nor made frosting. I added that I did not have a mold for a dinosaur cake.

I thought it would be a fun-loving memory of their time in France. Yesterday, we spent the entire afternoon at sea in Cassis. Today we decorated, they baked, and I cooked. 

Voila, success, a chocolate dinosaur cake with a blueberry eye.

Gabriel was pleased. 

----

 

 

 

Gabriel is 4

 

Four years ago, four years of joy and discovery.

Of a love unknown before.

Four years of celebrating life through your eyes.

Happy Birthday dear Gabriel!

I will see you tomorrow, and we will have all the fun.

Who is Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

The little family went to the woods for a picnic.

The little sister found delight in being outdoors, hearing the sounds of nature, and sitting at the big wooden picnic table.

The older brother, but still little, worried, knowing the story of "Red Riding Hood."

He asked as he held tightly to his father's hand,

"Are you sure, really sure, that there are no wolves around?"

I suppose I might have shared those "big eyes and big teeth," overly exaggerated.

 

Note: Gabriel LIVES in his soccer outfit and bike helmet.

Photos by Chelsea

Community Living, Life in France

Gabriel has a friend. A friend is a man who works as a cashier at the little grocery store next to their apartment in Paris. The cashier has befriended Gabriel by talking to him whenever he comes in, "Hello Gabriel, how are you today? What do you have? What are you doing? Where is Mom? Is this your grandmother?" He encourages him to talk with a question. Of course, at first, Gabriel was shy. Still, over time, he’s become buddies, and now when he goes into the grocery store, he runs to the cashier man going into his stall; with a giggle, he knows he has a friend ready to engage with him, and whatever the cashier man is doing, he stops happily talks to Gabriel, "Hey, buddy, what’s new? What do you have you been doing today? How is your sister? How was school today? Whoever is waiting at the checkout counter stands anxiously and waits, but that does not bother Gabriel and the Cashier. Those who live in the neighborhood expect it; it is their grocery store. It is more than a grocery store; it is a meeting place.

At the market in Cassis, two women sell their vegetables directly. The vegetables are fresh, beautiful, in abundant often; I’ve asked for recipes, as many locals do, and their recipes have a traditional Provencal flair. They have gladly shared them with me. I enjoy cooking and hearing different tricks and flavors about it. I wondered how they made their traditional PISTOU soup; each person has a slightly different take. Graciously, she shared her recipe as if we were sitting and having a coffee at a café; "I do not put tomato in mine; I use potato instead of pasta; make your pesto, and add the rind of the Parmesan to the vegetables as they simmer, it adds flavor..." the people in line becoming agitated, most of them tourists, forgetting to slow down, wanting to buy and go, the other locals were listening and adding their two cents to the recipe, as I expected they would. One of the tourists huffed, "Please, hurry up. This is taking too long. Can you do this later?"  In which the vendor turned to her with a rebuttal, "Look, this is a community. I’m not here only to sell my homegrown vegetables but to be part of the community. We talk, we share recipes, we laugh, we ask about each other’s children; if you want something fast, there’s a grocery store around the corner, go there, buy your food, but if you want to have a conversation, if you want to buy from my stand, you might have to wait a while."

Gabriel skips happily to the grocery store in the big city, and the cashier bends down to greet him and personally treats Gabriel as if they’re best buddies; they are, creating community. The other day Gabriel took him a drawing, one of his unique drawings of suns and flowers. The cashier was so touched. He talked to Gabriel for at least five minutes. They spoke of the details, the colors in his drawing, and the kindness of sharing.

Life as it should be, community-oriented, kind, and sharing of time. 

Olivia

Today Chelsea sent me this photo of Olivia.

I could gobble her up in one bite without adding any sugar.

Chelsea says Olivia constantly says "Mamon' for Mommy and "B-iel" for Gabriel.

She has yet to master my name and has said, "Daddy" either. It will come.

 

 

A Child's Kiss

 

Sweet-filled with everything good?

Gabriel runs up to me for one reason only,

Hugging my leg, he kisses my thigh;

if I am sitting on a chair, he kisses my arm,

and if we are face-to-face, he holds it in his hands and kisses it.

At first, I did not understand why he was kissing my thigh...

Gabriel's habit of kissing wherever he can reach

It is a testament to the eternal nature of a child's love. 

His innocence blesses me.

To love without waiting for the right place or time.

 

 

Two of my Favorite People

 

Click here to see a video of Gabriel and Olivia

I am on my way to Paris to be with them.

xxx

Gabriel Dances Ballet

 

Click on the link below to see Gabriel dance ballet after seeing Swan Lake. He proudly pointed his toes, and guided me to video his movements , “Especially, look at my face.” 

We went outside, on the port in Cassis, to dance which he freely did for about ten minutes. No inhibition, pure feeling, expressed with innocent sincerity. Sweet little child!

 

Click here

 

Typepad, my platform for my blog, is not letting me add the video here. If anyone can help me with blogging/Coding/Tech stuff, I will gladly host you in Provence! I am in need of a personal assistance (must be able to drive in France.)

 

Easter Egg Hunt

When my children were the age to hunt for Easter Eggs,

After they devoured the chocolates, I would tie the Easter Egg candy ribbons to their basket. 

One for each year. Now, I will add Gabriel's and Olivia's ribbons.

Gabriel wanted Sacha's basket, and Olivia didn't have a choice. Of course, Gabriel doesn't realize that Sacha loves his basket ... I hope he doesn't mind sharing.

 

 

I hope you had a delightful celebration of renewed life,

full of hope, wonder, and chocolates.

Joyous Easter!

Correction to Yesterday's Post

 

Yesterday's link to the post did not connect you to the personal video.

Here is the correct link:

“ I hope there are days when your coffee tastes like magic,

your playlist makes you dance,

strangers make you smile,

and the night sky touches your soul.

I hope there are days when you fall in love with being alive.”

Brooke Hampton

Click on the text will take you to a clip I made on my instagram that shows my family.

Bananas and Artwork

Gabriel enjoys drawing: people, the sun, and flowers. After school at the park, he carefully describes his art to Olivia while she holds onto her banana halves.

Chelsea sent me this photo of the artist and his admirer.

 

Gabriel and Olivia

Follow the link below to watch,

Gabriel and Olivia's adventure on the stairs

 

A Drop that Contained the Sea, by Christopher Tin

 

The moment I saw this, I had goosebumps.

Countless times later, I still am moved.

And now Gabriel and I have watched it at least 15 times. We know some of the words and act the scene out; he is the conductor or drummer, and it is magical and holy at the same time. The first time he listened to it, he grabbed my arm and held it tightly. I told him about Goosebumps, happy tears, and the feeling of something profound that moves you.

Last night at dinner, we listened to it, and he asked me to turn it up loud.

Gabriel has very limited screen time, usually, none at all unless he is with me, and then we only watch three you tube clips a day, clips, such as, "How to milk a Cow" or "Tractor Ted'" or “Twenty Trucks for Kids”, and even then it is only three of them, not all of them at once. 

So, "A Drop That Contains the Sea" is a big deal as it is the most extended video he has ever watched (No, they do not watch TV, cartoons, or any movie. What is Disney? Or Animation? This Concert/Orchestra for any age is a must-see;

Gabriel and I talked about it often during his two days here. And then we sat and listened to it without the video imagining the conductor, the singers, the violins, the choir, and the nanosecond moment of silence woven into the piece.

Please tell me what you think of it.

 

A Date with a Soccer Player

We spent the day together, just him and me.

We frolicked in the cold outside. Looking at birds in the trees, playing in the sandbox at the park, pretending to be dogs and cows, never kicking a ball, and then late in the afternoon sitting at the counter having hot chocolate at the nearby cafe.

 

Gabriel wore his soccer outfit with peach-colored leggings underneath with pink and yellow sneakers. Mix and match, with a pastel scarf tied around his neck and a grey stocking hat, pulled over his eyes. I don't know how he could see. Chelsea wasn't feeling well this day, so I think he dressed himself as a darling ragamuffin.

 

 

We went to the cafe to have a drink and waited for his dad to pick him up. Gabriel was timid to sit at the counter, I thought about putting him on my lap, but I was nervous about the hot chocolate spilling, so I stood by him instead. The melted chocolate was served in a cup, and a silver creamer had hot foamed milk to add. Gabriel did it himself and never spilled a drop. What charm.

When his dad arrived, we went to say our goodbyes. I bent down on my knees to hug Gabriel; seeing he was sad, I asked what the matter was. He said, holding back tears, "I love you and don't want you to go." He buried his head into my neck, and we held close.

And there, in the pathway to the cafe, with people coming and going, we shared a hug that lasted an eternity. I closed my eyes and soaked every bit of it in. 

 

 

Love Time

We have been with family at the wedding of our nephew Jack. The internet connection has been the only hiccup, so our time together has been flawless, though my blog posts appear when they want to and not when I post them. 

Olivia started walking while we stayed at our friend Janet's home. 

So much happiness jammed packed in a day, not by anything big, but simply being with those I love.

Of course, Olivia's first steps were big, as we were all there to witness the moment.

Photos by Chelsea and me.

Happy Birthday Olivia

 

One year old.

Little Sweetheart.

 

 

Ponytails, Learning to Stand, and Fun with GrandPapa

Photos and texts were sent to me by Chelsea.

 

Meanwhile, someone is standing and dating to walk.

 

Gabriel’s First Day of School

 

 

 

 

Gabriel woke up happily, anticipating his first day at school. Giggly with excitement, he went through his morning routine without a hiccup. Checked the boxes with ease:

Breakfast,

Brushed teeth,

Got dressed...

The day before, he said to his mom, 

“...you know at school I have to run and play.

Because I have lots of energy!”

Yesterday, in France, marked  “La Rentree,” Mandatory Preschool (starting at three years of age) up to University. Chelsea, Papioca, Martin, and Gabriel walked around the corner to his first day of the school alongside students who were doing the same thing all over France.

Gabriel knows the path to school as he has frequently walked past it on his way to the park’s playground. He hopped and skipped, gleefully holding his parent’s hands as they headed towards his new adventure.

But when he arrived with the multitude of parents and children entering the school, his eagerness suddenly turned a corner.

As Chelsea told me, he screamed, cried, threw himself to the ground, and had to be coaxed, held, and reassured... It was the exact opposite of his morning dreams. 

...

Chelsea sent a video after his first day of school;

Chelsea asked Gabriel as he sat on her lap,

“How was school today?”

With exburence, he said, “Good!”

“Did you have fun?”

“Oui”

“How was lunch?”

“Good!”

“Did you like your teacher?”

"Oui!"

“Was she nice?”

“Oui!”

“How were the other children?”

“Good!”

“Wow! A perfect day huh?!”

His demeanor changed.

Chelsea said, “Were you a little bit sad this morning?”

“Ummm, pas trop.” (Not too bad.)

“Pas trop?”

And with that, he drew her attention to something on the table.

 

Sweet Goodbye

 

The day came to an end; we went to say our goodbyes.

Hugs and kisses, full of thanksgiving, and memories tucked in.

Gabriel took my hand I bent down; he leaned in, kissed my arm, then said,

"Vavie, you can come to stay with me in Paris. We have many beds, but you can sleep with me. Okay, come!"

And that was the final cherry blessing on top of the delicious holiday in Ardeche.

Ah, three-year-olds. Talkative, loving, full of questions, energy, and frustrations, and soaking up everything at record speed, wanting to be with those they love all day long. Childhood is not wasted on me such a raw gift to be able to witness. 

 

 

Tender Heart, The Meaning of Life.

Gabriel was sitting on the couch, his little legs in a position I could not mimic, his hands on my knees as I told him stories of my dad. "My dad, named Vo, loved motorcycles. He had motorcycles to ride in the fields, on the roads, on uphills, and on racetracks," I leaned in close to Gabriel, "Vo would be impressed with your bicycle riding; you are so fast!" Gabriel listened thoughtfully. He asked, "Where is Vo?" I smiled into Gabriel's eyes; "Vo died long before you were born." 

A little frown on his brow, "Why did he die?" he asked.

"He died because he was old." as soon as I uttered those words, his lip quivered as if his heart knew the depth of life, his heart, you could say, was on his sleeve.

I knew how Gabriel looked at me; he was thinking, "Do you think Vavie is old?"

With a child's honesty, he solemnly said, "Yes. Why aren't you dead?"

Looking into his sweet baby face, I grinned,

"Because it isn't my time yet. I am here, and hopefully,

I won't die so we can play for a long time."

His frown softened.

Chelsea added, "Do you remember what Mana (his other grandmother) said about people who die?"

"Yes, they go to heaven."

"Do you know heaven is?" I asked.

"No, it is in the sky. Do you know?"

"I want to believe it is love, a big happy love, love that holds us all together forever."

And with that, he said, "Come play with me."

And I did.

 

How Do You Say I Love You?

How do you say I love you in sign language?

I taught Gabriel how to hold his three fingers up.

Chelsea sent me this picture as they were on vacation,

I noticed that Gabriel had his three fingers held up.

Of course, a sweet baby smile speaks of love too.

 

A Child on a Summer Day

and then again

When I realized the grocery shop would  soon close

Gabriel decided to crawl?

 

6:30 rise and shining

Breakfast, then out to the beach.

Sand and salt

Balance along the wall to the park. 

5000 steps later

Nonstop play

a cold shower turned into a water fun fest

A big creamy lunch with gnocchi

and fresh summer fruit

Two stories…

 

The longest deserved nap.

 

 

 

What to Wear When Riding Motorcycle

To protect your head wear a helmet:

Grab a pair of red boxer shorts

pull them down nearly covering your eyes.

Next, take a pair of socks, preferably a matching color to your “helmet”slip them on as gloves.

Not seen in the above photo, though an important part of the rider’s attire,

is to take off the protective chair leg felt pads and add them to your knees and elbows.

Then take your earphones slipping them on so that the head part becomes a shield for your eyes.

You are ready to ride.

Shoes not required inside.

That is how we roll.

 

Heatwave in France and Knee Socks.

On a blistering hot summer day

Gabriel decided to wear knee socks.

Because that is what three-year-olds do.

 

We watched a group of men jumping into the canal Saint Martin. It was very tempting, the splash of the water, the hot sun on the pavement, the lack of air… tempting. 

 

We tried to stay cool.

We had ice cream.

France has a heat wave. As I grew up in the Sacramento Valley, hot days in the summer were very common. I wouldn’t say I liked those days back then, and I certainly don’t want them now. The only difference - my cousin’s pool - And that was a big difference, a wonderful difference, the memory-filled highlight of summer days.

But heat waves in France are uncomfortable, especially in Paris. 
But not if you are three with knee socks and a teeter-totter.  

And cherries.

 

 

 

And Now He is Three

(Text and photo by Chelsea)

When you have a child, you inherit a visual gauge of life as it shows how fast time goes by and how a child can develop, grow and become. The visible gauge subtly reminds us to reflect, be grateful, and be aware of the time we have had.

Three years how can it be? 

Who is Telling the Story

On the Train to Paris

Memories of our plane ride to California came rolling in as we took the three hour plus TGV from Marseille to Paris.
We went back with Chelsea and the little ones as Yann had a meeting in Paris and we could help Chelsea with the children.

Three adults two children.

We all took naps except Gabriel and Papioca.

 

 

Then this one thought why not learn to crawl on a table in a moving train? Sort of felt like the story: Cat in the Hat.

 

A Beautiful Gift from Manuela Buisset

 

Soon after Gabriel was born a beautiful handmade gift arrived.

Every single detail was created with perfection. The cards, the stationary, the

book with photos circled with lace and sweetness, a darling elephant... a

package of beauty, love, generosity and creativity.

 

 

Manuela Buisset created this treasure for Chelsea

weeks after Gabriel was born. It remains a treasure.

 

 

Made with vintage and antique textiles.

 

This divine book of photos that Manuela made using photos from my blog.

So unexpected, delightful and WOW what a gift.

My appreciation of this treasure continues.

How thoughtfully kind of you Manuela.

Thank you a hundred times over.

 

Stand with Ukraine 

Third Day Update

First Day:

Gabriel had a fever and slept most of the time.

Didn't eat.

 

 

 

Second Day:

Gabriel had a dry cough, less fever, and still wasn't eating.

 

 

 

The third day:

Still not eating, no fever, and a dry cough.

Nevertheless, he was playing and seemed happier today.

Except, Chelsea has a scratchy throat and a dry cough.

She took a covid test it was negative. She will take another one tomorrow.

 

Papioca

 

 

Papillote is a French Christmas candy as popular as candy canes in the States. Though it doesn't look anything like a candy cane it is made of chocolate. You might think it is a bit odd that I am writing about a Christmas candy during Easter ... Though you will see my story doesn't have anything to do with Christmas except the name of the candy.

 

Since Martin and Chelsea did not want to reveal Olivia's name until she was born they called her, "Papillote" in the months leading up to her birth.

Gabriel understood this to mean Olivia had this name. From that moment on the name, "Papillote" has stuck with him.

When we arrived at my Mom's home Gabriel said his sister's name was, "Papillote".

My mother had a difficult time pronouncing "Papillote" so she asked Gabriel to teach her how to say it. 

Gabriel would say, "Pap-pee-ought".

My mother tried and tried to pronounce it though she just couldn't get it right.

After the 100th time, my mother gave up and said,

"Okay, forget about it, I am going to call her, "Tapioca".

And she did.

The day went on with my mother singing and saying, "Tapioca" and Gabriel correcting her every time,

"No, Vavalinga it isn't "Tapioca", it is "Papillote".

But my mother shook her head adding, "I cannot pronounce it, so Tapioca it is."

By the end of the day, I don't know who said it first, the two names merged -

"Papioca"

and just like that, another nickname came to be.

 

 

 

Daisies under the Sun

So after running around, and around the park

following Speed Racer on his pushbike.

I asked if he would like to lay down in the patch of daisies? Instantly, and quite surprisingly, he got off his pushbike and walked over

to the wild patch of daisies.

In my mind’s eye, I imagined he would take off his jacket, and his pink helmet while giving me one of his sweetest smiles. 

Nope.

 

He laid down and covered his eyes due to the bright sun.

 Which gave me thirty seconds to take a photo and a small break

from running behind him on his pushbike.

 

 

 

 

Blackberry Pie Making with Va

When you learn how to make pies from the master.

My mom bakes every day- every day, she makes cookies, pie, cream puffs, or something in that sweet order and from scratch.

And even though she can make those sweet things with her eyes closed and turned around backward

she still followed the recipe to the “t.”

My mom doesn’t take shortcuts or deviate from the recipe; her 86-year-old hands move gracefully.

 

 

My mother made a blackberry pie from blackberries that she picked last summer.

My mom freezes her measured blackberries in four-cup bags ready to use.

Gabriel used the leftover pie dough to make his little pie-

not quite the same, but we didn’t tell him that.