Tu sais, there are perhaps a zillion and one reasons for living in France, but one of the main reasons that we forced papa to move to France is vacation. Not just that you are already in a vacation spot without even moving, but that you actually get vacation. Tu sais, a decent number of days off. Kind of like the Roman Empire just before the Germans showed up. You know, seven, eight, ten weeks - plus holidays.
In the summer, most normal people point the car south. This year, being a fairly unconventional group, we drove north to the Aisne to a huge cousin convention. For four days we prepared for that most bewildering of holidays, tu sais, the 14th of July. Tu sais?
The days were full. There were flat tires, ping pong tournaments, conjunctivitis, World Cup finals, Play Dough moustaches, potato picking, donkey feeding, roosters thieving, picnics, flowers floating down the lavoir, corn reaping, thunder storms, hot sun, fireworks, Champagne, Bambie terrine, five-star breakfast service, abandoned castles, swimming, appéros, bike riding, barbecues, and cousins, cousins, and more cousins. Wow! Tu sais, the people that stormed the Bastille must have been pretty angry. But with all these vacation days away from home I was wondering, who has time for a revolution? I mean, wouldn't it be better to be our working on your tan? Tu sais?
But I'm not one to complain. I suppose that all those people who wandered off to the 11th arrondissement with pitch forks in hand got us last Wedensday off. And that's great because as papa still complains that he doesn't have enough days off. Tu sais, I think he's right.
Given that I'm still on vacation, I'll wonder off to the beach tomorrow and think about retirement.
1 comment:
Today a dragged myself to the office after a wonderful 3-week vacation. These last blog posts are exactly what I needed to cheer myself up. I had a good laugh with the ones of the ping pong tournament and I sometimes think I am dreaming ...these kids are soooo cute
thanks baby!
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