4in15: Between summer’s end and Christmas

The world starts to change after Gongo's birthday.

Days get shorter, I mean seriously shorter. If you blink it’s night time again (“papa le sun n’est pas ooouuuut!”). Clouds roll in. Sidewalks get wet. Leaves fall. We use the umbrella that papa bought us in the height of summer, when it seemed like it would never rain again. Shoes change to boots and mama doesn’t smear us with sun cream anymore. Here comes the sweater, then the jacket, then the coat. Then the sweater, jacket, and coat ‘till we can’t move our arms anymore and we look like scarecrows.

But, tu sais, this time of year doesn’t bother us at all. Nope, we’re multicultural creatures and that’s one of the positive points of having a connection to the northern portions of the New World. Rock groups dressed in black like to write melancholy songs about October, but for us October means Halloween!

Then, in November, comes one of Papa’s favorite holidays, Thanksgiving. Turkey, stuffing cranberry sauce, yams, pumpkin pie, and a 1990 Phélan Ségur that Jacques brought over, yeah baby! France and the United States blend in a transatlantic culinary alliance that makes papa’s eyes, and taste buds, water!

There’s also early snow, theater, a 1946 Rivesaltes with flan and good company, Francisco. Then there is the event of the season. No, not Christmas! My birthday! Yeap, and everyone knows that it’s far too big a holiday to squeezed into only one day! It’s actually my “birthweek”, or “birthmonth”. But it’s not over yet so why ruin the surprise?