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| Embarrassing even myself... |
Here it is well into January and I've near given up on this blog - one windmill too many? And I know I have to find a new skin ... That icon is tired, even in my world of subtle hyperbole and misused metaphor.
French - the language - took a back seat to the boys, a little project work, the logistics of moving from a flat with lots of built-in storage, wardrobes and bookshelves (though not one built-in soap dish) to an apartment where the only thing built in are three soap dishes. Merely figuring out the recycling schedule for the massive amounts of Ikea-flatpack-generated cardboard over the holiday took a ridiculous amount of focus. But now we own a refrigerator, oven/range and something called a combo washer/dryer which still freaks me out.
But we've also figured some stuff out: our favorite local boulangerie, the washer/dryer child lock, and we're on something like our fourth trip to Ikea. I stopped Facebook check-ins there, getting embarrassing.
AND we just learned about "la gallete de Rois", King Cake, which is eaten by Parisians mostly on January 6 (Epiphany). This is a puff pastry tart with a surprise "something" (usually a small figure) baked which earns the finder "king/queen for the day" and a little paper crown. We picked up such a tart, Oliver's been wearing the crown around since, and just learned we should've been looking for the "something" ... luckily after thawing the last couple slices for tonight's dessert it made an appearance, and we crowned Elena - who even remembered to use the French phrase "J'ai la fève!" when she found the little plastic giraffe thing. (We haven't participated in the Roman tradition of killing off the recipient of the fève.)
So in summery here's our weekend with soundtrack courtesy Google's slightly creepy (but seductively easy) Auto Awesome...
