Bonne fête des mères

It's Mother's day here in France. I'm gasping with thirst but still have to drag myself awake to properly receive Evan's present which he has been working on at the maternelle for 2 weeks. It's a cute heart-shaped box with little messages and paper with lipstick kisses...so adorable (altho' I had wondered about the lipstick traces on his mouth when he came home from school recently). Ciara made me something too, but asked if she could keep it 'cause she'd like it for herself!

Saturday Night Fever!

Girls night out in downtown St. Genis. Unfortunately, it clashed with the Eurovision Song Contest which I hadn't seen in years and I would have definitely turned on the telly for! Met up with Fiona & Fiona, Florence, Grace, Margaret and Rosamund in Charley's Bar. My first night out in France. Discovered Fiona (not saying which one) is a secret smoker! Lot of fun and much beer consumed. Five of us ended us squeezing into a 2-seater Porsche to travel home in style!

Check out the awesome Eurovision Flash Mob Dance (Ireland dances in at around 3:20).

Français on a Friday

So Friday is the day I blitz my French. Two classes at CERN - a conversation class in the morning and a preparation for DELF B1 (diplôme d'études de langue française) in the afternoon. Didn't have my homework done, so tried to wing the subjunctive...yeah that went well!

Do you prefer cats or dogs? I can't decide.

School Schedule

It's mercredi so the kids are off school. How's this for a schedule?

School	8:30 - 11:30
Lunch	11:30 - 1:30
School again	1:30 - 4:30.

Every Wednesday off and 2 weeks holiday every 6 weeks.
Pas mal eh? Unless you're a PARENT!

Listen Up World!

Welcome to my blog! Seeing that it's already 10 months into our year here in France, this blog should really be entitled "Two months in Thoiry", but that doesn't have the same cachet. (BTW you can expect that I'll pepper my postings with the occasional mot français - just to give this the authentic, pretentious tone it needs.)

Lot's Wife by Wisława Szymborska

I love this poem. It's one of my favourites of all time. I hate the story of Lot's wife in the bible. She doesn't even warrant a name, just is some silly woman who can't do what God tells her to do. I love the idea of reclaiming her story and all the possibilities of her turning around to look, especially that is was deliberate. The phrase "From the disobedience of the meek" especially resonates with me, and also the ending - "It's possible I fell facing the city" (my emphasis). Keep in mind that this is a translation - how good must it be in the original Polish?
Wisława Szymborska won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1996.

Lot's Wife

They say I looked back out of curiosity.
But I could have had other reasons.
I looked back mourning my silver bowl.
Carelessly, while tying my sandal strap.
So I wouldn't have to keep staring at the righteous nape
of my husband Lot's neck.
From the sudden conviction that if I dropped dead
he wouldn't so much as hesitate.
From the disobedience of the meek.
Checking for pursuers.
Struck by the silence, hoping God had changed his mind.
Our two daughters were already vanishing over the hilltop.
I felt age within me. Distance.
The futility of wandering. Torpor.
I looked back setting my bundle down.
I looked back not knowing where to set my foot.
Serpents appeared on my path,
spiders, field mice, baby vultures.
They were neither good nor evil now--every living thing
was simply creeping or hopping along in the mass panic.
I looked back in desolation.
In shame because we had stolen away.
Wanting to cry out, to go home.
Or only when a sudden gust of wind
unbound my hair and lifted up my robe.
It seemed to me that they were watching from the walls of Sodom
and bursting into thunderous laughter again and again.
I looked back in anger.
To savor their terrible fate.
I looked back for all the reasons given above.
I looked back involuntarily.
It was only a rock that turned underfoot, growling at me.
It was a sudden crack that stopped me in my tracks.
A hamster on its hind paws tottered on the edge.
It was then we both glanced back.
No, no. I ran on,
I crept, I flew upward
until darkness fell from the heavens
and with it scorching gravel and dead birds.
I couldn't breathe and spun around and around.
Anyone who saw me must have thought I was dancing.
It's not inconceivable that my eyes were open.
It's possible I fell facing the city.