Moules frites and ice cream

From sun screen and ice cream

One good thing about being two-and-a-half is that much remains to be discovered about this crazy old world. Yes, I still have a couple of years before the blasé feeling of having seen it all sets in. The Gongo has even longer to go and more discoveries ahead than someone of my years, and I'm a little jealous. But I'm still finding new things here and there and this trip to the Île de Ré has been a gold mine of new discoveries.

From sun screen and ice cream

New things that I loooove:

Moules frites

Bleu d'Auvergne

Pushing my own stroller

Walking barefoot

Pink ice cream

Red ice cream

Green ice cream
White ice cream
Yellow ice cream
Coffee ice cream

Stracciatella ice cream
Any ice cream (ado)

Wearing a hat

From sun screen and ice cream

Things I discovered that I hate:

The sound of any motor outside Paris (where the noise is drowned out by noise)

Putting on sun screen

Sand in my shoes

Waves

Falling (but I like band-aids with animals on them)

From sun screen and ice cream

From sun screen and ice cream

Gongo confirmed that he likes anything he can put in his mouth and that he hates being hungry. Fellow visitors to the island can vouch for the latter. He also likes to sleep and laugh and generally make people say how cute he is. I like to give him kisses and jump in his bed.

From sun screen and ice cream

From sun screen and ice cream

From sun screen and ice cream

Tomorrow morning we leave for the continent. But I'm not sad because we're off to abuleita's for another week and I know that, unlike my parents, she'll let me do anything I want! Viva la vie!

A taste for sand

From Life on a small island

Here we are again. Only last time we were here, Gabriel (alias "the Gongo") was still comfrtably floating in mommy's belly. But he's not sitting still any more, no siree!

From Life on a small island

France is a country of magnificent cuisine and products of the land. As I've said before, fois gras and stinky cheeses are among my prefered gifts that this terroir has to offer. The Gongo has found his own tastes from the French soil, as you can see here.


In France there are the "Juillards" and then there are the "Aoûtards". The former leave for vacation in July and the latter in August. Everyone is one or the other, even if the vacation bridges both months.
Every self-respecting French citizen takes at least three weeks over that period to go to some beautiful place, and when you live in France, you're already there! The cities empty, stores close for a month and everyone heads off to their favorite vacation spot. Of course, that means that the rest of France is unbelievably crowded. For the last two years our favorite crowded spot has been the île de Ré.

From Life on a small island

From Life on a small island

There are so many things that you can do on vacation that you can't do other times of the year. For instance, you can read Paris Match in public. You can wear short-sleeved shirts (but not white socks), you can talk to people you don't know and not worry about seeing them again, you can even eat ice cream before meals - at least I can.

From Life on a small island

From Life on a small island

After one week of sun here, papa is as red as a Brit on the Costa del Sol, Mommy looks like a model on the Croisette, and the Gongo and I have all the sand that we could ever dream of. Sure beats those small sand boxes back in Paris!

We have one week left to shift sand around and ride papa's bike-bus. Then we go see abuelita for a whole week. I don't know how summer could be any better than this!

From Life on a small island

Update: a couple of weeks ago - after the red cherry jam -we made black cherry jam and jelly! I don't think I've ever found anything messier. Pure heaven.

Suddenly Summer (Jam today!)

From Francisco comes to France!

In Paris, sunny summer days are nothing like sunny spring days. Both have their own special way of sweeping little boys and girls off their bare toddling feet, and I'm no exception.

From Francisco comes to France!

From Francisco comes to France!

In spring, the cool dry air wakes me up after a long sleepy winter. Mama and Papa's mood perks up, days get progressively longer, and people write erroneous songs about April in Paris, which is actually often cold and rainy. But in summer, the hot sun warms the humid air and the wind blows in a whole new mood. People move slowly or hang out on terrace cafés sipping citron pressés. Paris starts to empty and the Gongo starts to sweat. Yippee, it's summer - and it's been a hot one, the warmest I've seen in my whole life!

From Sunday fun chez les Cornieti

It's only early July and the summer of 2009 has already brought so much. My cousins made the southwestern trek from sunny Luxembourg to Maisons Laffitte, where a whole lot of family put up with my escapades. I even dipped my feet in the pool.

From Francisco comes to France!

Then the Gongo's godfather flew in from Venezuela to play with me (and to see the Gongo to I guess). We all took off to Ata's house and went through the ritual barbecue. We picked the rest of the Groseilles and then moved on to the cherry tree. They said it couldn't be done; but daddy made the best Cherry marmalade this side of the Volga! Of course, there was also the Feu de St. Jean in Morogues. I wanted to hit the dance floor and show off my Gallic roots but mommy made me go to bed. They burned the biggest bonfire in the whole Cher (I'm not sure whether that means a whole lot) and danced the night away to Celtic tunes of yore.

From Francisco comes to France!

But it's not summer without a little sand and moules frites! So Mama and Papa took us to Cabourg, the town where Proust once hung out. I wasn't much in the mood for writing. Who has time for writing when you have a whole ocean to pour into a hole in the sand one watering can at a time? It's a good thing daddy was carrying the can!

From Le temps retouvé à Cabourg