It's just an au revoir

Well, all good things come to and end. And some bad ones too. This may be one of the latter. This blog is finished.


Raphaël's here and it just doesn't make sense to go on about 4 in 15 anymore.

But don't despair. If you are laid up in a hospital with a broken leg and no cable, you can follow our us on our new blog:

The fourth floor

Or you can ask the nurse for extra medication...

See ya,

The Bumble Bee and Gongo Bongo from the Congo

And then there were three

Even at my tender age I know that some days you'll remember forever. Today is the first day of spring  (I know some technicality said it was yesterday but common, it was today, really).  Today, on this first day of spring, the sun made a hasty appearance though a misty sky. Today I finally lost that tooth that had been wobbling for so long. And today my little brother, Raphaël was born.

Raphaël Francisco was born today at 5:59 pm, in the 15th arrondissement of Paris. Habemus another little angel.

Check out a few early snaps here: the third man

Getting ready

Waiting. Everything takes forever. This little guy is in no hurry. It's been months and still nothing. I mean, how long do these things hang around for anyway?


Don't get me wrong, I've been through this before and am fully aware of how long these things take, but it seems that this tooth just doesn't want to go.

Oh, and there's the baby too. But I know why he's making us wait. First, why show up during school vacation? He's probably a pretty good guy and doesn't want to get in the way of our big day in Fontainebleau, or our inspection of the canons at Invalides, or the animal reserve. I've learned to tie my shoes, read books,  gone out skating, and done a bunch of stuff that I couldn't have done if I had a litte guy to take care of. And second, I'm sure he doesn't want to make an appearance before everything is ready.

We've painted the crib, rearranged the room, got the stroller back, washed pretty much everything. But still no sign of the little guy. We've got a new Pope but no new brother. Maybe he was waiting for Francis to settle in first. A guy like that can steal your thunder.

As for my tooth, maybe it's holding out for a better deal from the tooth fairy. Last time the cheapskate  only left four euros and some candy. Anyway, who ever heard of a tooth fairy who leaves you candy? Somethings up.

Want to check out the start to this glorious 2013? Wander around these crazy snaps: Hey, this looks an awful lot like 2012.

How about an intimate peek at our winter vacation? Check it out here: you mean we gave up skiing for this?

Not so fat Tuesday

Papa says that he wants to give up working for Lent. Mama would like to give up being pregnant (and will certainly do so during Lent, her eternity of bliss is assured). Inès wants to give up math and I want to give up school altogether.

But more than anything, we would all like to give up being sick. I'm a little tired of our home being turned into a hospital ward and want it back. I also want my weight back. Going from 17 kilos to 14 and a half has made me a smaller big boy, though it has made me the first in our family history to sport a six-pack.

In the midst of misery there is always a break in the clouds. On Mardi Gras I showed everyone my American roots. I told my classmates how we American Indians (or Native Americans if you want a job with the government) always managed to outrun the buffalo. "Chief indian keepum trim. Lay off peace pipe, eat only vegetables and lean buffalo meat, easy on the trans fats. Run around house, drive rising moon mama and setting sun papa crazy, keepum washboard stomach muscles."

As usual, there were plenty of knights, pirates, princesses, there was even a cowboy or two (hey dude, my papa is from Texas, you look like a yankee!). But I was the only petit indien.

By the way, papa can rest easy. I gave up scalping for Lent.


Want to see a few more? Check out some carnival snaps here: almost Rio

Hello 2013

In France, you can say happy New Year throughout the whole month of January. That's pretty forgiving. Just the type of place where mama and papa need to live.

Last year closed as usual: exhaustion and the silly belief that a week in Greece...

 ...and another in Chamonix...

 ...would actually do something to cure the fatigue.



Common folks, get back to the lights of 14th street and stop complaining.






Check out some snaps of Christmas in Paris here: Creezmass

Check out some snaps of Christmas in Athens here: Crismapolous

Check out some ski snaps here: Snow joke

Mac is back!

When papa said that the hard disk had crashed I had visions of visitors from space with broken arms or people at the Olympics with big bumps on their heads. Cool. But apparently, it was something else. Certainly nothing very interesting.

Now yet another year is getting ready to retire. I mean, is any one of these going to stick around? Last thing I knew I was in kindergarden with my feet up and a margarita in my hand (the flower). Then it's just a blurr of summer, rentrée, fall, Catalans, homework, fourth birthdays, sixth birthdays, unmentionable birthdays, birthday parties, rain, cousins, Mayan pessimists, Japanese food, vineyards, orange shoes, red shoes, tennis shoes, sun tans, lost teeth, lost time, swimming pools, cagouls, visiting Ata, Thanksgiving turkeys, mama's growing belly, friends coming to town, friends leaving town, friends being run out of town, learning to read, learning to swim, learning to skate, Carambars, puzzles, pirates, knights in shining armor, knights in pyjamas, Princess Knight, sleepless nights, nights at Cyriac's house, knights at Cyriac's house, more knights, even more pirates, being late to everything, Eloi et le Chamoi, guitars, picking up pianos, dropping off pianos, traffic, English classes, Advent calendars, Mauris doing Haka, 6 year-olds doing Haka, boys' names mama likes, boys names papa likes, boys' names no one likes, boys' names papa will have to learn to like, ballet, little devils, goggles, ice cream, chocolate balls, whipped cream,  poems, picnics, dragons, lost school supplies, sugar highs, bunk beds, musical beds, leaning Christmas trees, climbing walnut trees, homemade pizzas, clutter, and painters in the hall.

That about sums up this fall.

Hair the sunshine

Why wait 'til summer's over? It may be nice to start the school year with a new coupe, but an early visit to Bruno guaranteed the best hair on the Costa Brava. Those Catalans didn't know what hit them.

Check out our July trip to Bruno's here: I'll swap you some hair for one of those cotton candies.

The lost pearl

Papa and I don't always see eye to eye. I've been waiting for signs of loose teeth for months. But for some reason, papa wasn't quite as keen. Most of my school friends have lost at least one tooth, and mine seemed to be stubbornly in place.

Not long ago, when mama and papa told me that my teeth would fall out if I didn't brush, I had a great idea to speed up the process. Since then, mama and papa decided that they wouldn't really fall out, they'd just turn black from neglect, so I dropped that plan.

But not long ago, walking back from the boulangerie, I noticed something exciting. A little less reticence in my lower front tooth, a central incisor to be precise. Indeed, some noticeable movement. Was it true? I asked papa. But instead of shouting for joy, like I did, he seemed to let out a sad little wimper and blubber something about "my little baby".

A few days later, maybe a week, mama and I were back at the boulangerie. As usual, I pester for some of the hot bread until mama finally gives in. But no dirty hands on the clean bread, I have to take a direct bite.

And that's how I lost my first tooth in the fresh baguette.

Papa and mama combed the floor. But they never found the little deciduous creature. My big worry was how the tooth fairy (la petite souris) would know to leave the cash. A drawing of my tooth ensured proper delivery.

But I still don't understand why papa looks so devastated. The tooth fairy would have taken the tooth anyway.

Check out a couple more: out with the old

Rememberance of things to come

Tuesday, May 1st, a strange thing happened. It didn't rain. But that's not all. the sun came out. And it was even pretty warm. Of course, the first day of May is a pretty big holiday in most of the world. When a day like this falls on a Tuesday, and you're in France, then there's no question about it. You build a bridge - between Sunday and Tuesday that is. No self-respecting Gaulois would work on Monday.

But I was on about Tuesday. This is the day that it didn't rain, the sun came out, the temperature went up, mama and papa didn't go to work, and that Clara came with us on a boat ride to the Jardin des Plantes. It seems like only yesterday. But it was really the day before yesterday. Ah the memories.

Inès and I like to think about how one day, we'll remember all the things we get up to today. "Wow, that's the parc St. Lambert? I remember it so much bigger!" or "When we took the path to the Chetif Moulin d'en Bas, I thought we were crossing the enchanted forest and that dragons would eat us if we didn't make it back to Ata's house by dark."

What will we take with us of spring 2012?

The visit of Saute Mouille la grenouille who showed up with Lorin, Edith, and my friends Tess and Scarlet?

Bubbles?

Going to the Jardin du Luxembourg with all my friends from the petit section? 

Dancing? 

Mardi Gras?

The day papa saw the Easter Bunny running away from the Chetif Moulin after leaving his booty of melting chocolate eggs?

Hanging with my cousins before they moved back to Greece?

Retro fashion with my best friend?

I wonder...

Second summit attempt

The conditions were good. Dry. Temperate. A few clouds, but not enough to block out a generous sun. We could see the summit from down below. This was going to be a good day for a second attempt to summit the Eiffel Tower after our first try in December 2010.

The second attempt would be made with the Greek team. They are based in Luxembourg, a country known for its challenging peaks. They had summited several of them, without oxygen.

At base camp everything looked good. Mama had planned ahead. We had tickets right to the top. We were on time (No, really, we were on time. Yes, mama too). We prepared for our first ascent.

"Désolé, l'ascenseur jusqu'au sommet est en panne, vous pouvez monter jusqu'au deuxième."
Translation: "Sorry folks, the elevator to the top of this mass of iron you probably traveled across the word to see is out of order. Hope the second floor is good enough for you...again."

This is not unusual. We climbers are used to disappointments. If conditions are not right, an attempt can be foolish. Only stairs or ropes to the top of the Eiffel Tower 324 meters up? Conditions NOT RIGHT.

Dude has another chance. There will be a third attempt.

Want to see the whole expedition? Check it out here: Elevator to Everest

Our Lady on Monday

Paris on a Sunny February afternoon? Corina off and papa on duty? Walk up to the rue de Vaugirard and take the number 70 bus. Find a couple of seats. Gongo can fall asleep on papa's lap; I can slumber the fur coat the lady next to me is wearing. Wake up on the Quai de la Megiserrie and cross the Pont au Change.

At night, once we've complained about going to bed, brushed our teeth, complained about going to bed, taken deep breaths, said our prayers, complained about going to bed, and pulled to covers, mama and papa read us stories. One of my favorites is Paris Parade, about the best city in the world. I know just about all the places there. And one of my favorites is not a minutes walk from the Pont au Change.

It appears on the first page of the book. It houses the Crown of Thorns since 1239, Quasimodo had a gig here as a bell-ringer a while back, and it's home to Gabriel's much beloved gargouilles.

Notre Dame de Paris!

Yeap Notre Dame, the very one.

It's big, it's beautiful, and it's in my town baby, my town. It's also on an island called Île de la Cité which is next to another island called Île Saint Louis. To me and the Gongo this smaller island means ice cream. Not just any ice cream but Berthillon, the best ice cream this side of the Orion Belt.

Strawberry and mango please.

Papa had honey nougat.

We hassled the swans and the ducks, checked out the bouquinistes and the painting of the naked lady, watched papa get yelled at because he let two kids handle a delicate painting of a naked lady, wandered along the Quai des Grands Augustins and onto the Quai Voltaire, wandered up the rue des Saints Pères, the grabbed a cab as fast as we could because I had to go to the bathroom fast!

Yeap, in Paris it's always a holiday.


Would you like to see way too many pictures of the Gongo and me eating Berthillon ice cream? Check'em out here: not your average Cité