Talent Show

Because I am me (translation: both a worker and a lover of fun), I can't seem to help planning activities for us here at 27 Palace Court. A couple of weeks ago, I called Talent Show Night and it was a riot. Talent Show Night is almost always done in our family when LBH and I have forgotten to plan Family Home Evening. The most important thing to remember is that, according to the bylaws of Howardism, Talent Show Night isn't actually about talent, and double props go to those who are game enough to display something a little less Broadway-bound than, say, singing a song in tune. Just as with the Primary program, the joy is in the utterly laughable humanity of it all.

 EBH does fish face while raising individual eyebrows in sequence

 LBH juggles socks while reciting the balcony scene from "Romeo and Juliet"

 Some students doing some kind of Harry Potter rap

 A chin face that doesn't quiet know all the words to "Popcorn Popping"

 Scottish Highland Dancing (the kicks were priceless)

 headstand

 cloverleaf tongue

 cheerleading moves

CQH exhibited a drawing (taped on the whiteboard because she's shy), I did both my "Blue Moon" mouse voice from the film "Babe," as well as my "In the Mood" trumpet (I drooled on that one, which was enjoyed by one and all...). All manner of crazy Stupid Human Tricks were demonstrated, and it was a completely delightful way to spend an hour.

Carousel-crawling through Paris

It was our last full day in Paris, and nothing would please the girls more than to hit as many playgrounds and carousels as we could.  They had been real troupers, following us through the museums and galleries, mostly without complaint, and riding the Metro with caution and aplomb beyond their years.  So we went carousel crawling for the whole day as a way of saying "Thanks for being such great travellers, girls!"  Couldn't have been more fun.  (Just so it's clear, we only consider riding those carousels that ooze vintage charm.  If they have Disney characters, electronic beeping sounds, lightning bolts, or some such other ridiculania on them, we give a wide berth.)

But the day started with the biggest, most delicious mango we have ever seen.  Sure it cost $15, but it was worth it.  And it really was as big a child's head!

... then we went to the best playground in the world, at the Jardins du Luxembourg.

 

More of a climbing ramp than a climbing wall, but E got the hang of it right away

Middle-aged men should never try the zip line at a kid's playground.  It's unbecoming.

C struck up a conversation with two other girls at the playground (so brave, my sweet girl!) and found out they were sisters from Australia.

I thought this was funny and poignant--an old carousel horse daring to peek out from behind the covers while the carousel was closed.

I would never have guessed that our super-cautious C could brave the zip line on her own.  It took several attempts, but she did it! 

It was on this very truck 6 years ago that C struck up a conversation with a little French girl.  We felt like we had come full circle by returning to this playground and revisiting the joy.

... and then to our favorite gelato establishment, Amorino.  They're all over Paris (and Europe, apparently), but this one was never crowded, and its interior was especially inviting.

Why would you even try to resist a gelato store like this?

Back to the Tuilleries carousel, where C hands out some sisterly advice.

Trocadero

A carousel with a hot-air balloon (so cute!), near the Trocadero.  Of course the girls had a turn on this one, upstairs this time.

Then back to the carousel by the Eiffel Tower.

We finished the day with a river cruise, just to see the city from a different angle.

Really?  Designer Coke?  We saw in the store yesterday that the "Jean-Paul Gaultier" Coke bottles are "dressed" in pink fishnet corsets.  Doesn't change the fact that Coke Light is the least palatable of all the Coke beverages.

Ah, the macarons.  We tried them all, from the ultra-famous Laduree, from the wonderful but expensive Liebeaux near the Champs Elysees and several other renowned purveyors of deliciousness, but in the end decided that the macaron au chocolat from the local Monoprix was as good as any of them.  These are nothing like macaroons in the  US, by the way.  Much more rich and substantial, like a cross between a brownie and merignue.  Mmmm.

RIP Esther Williams

No, not the famous Hollywood swimming star.  Esther Williams was our pet goldfish who, we were just informed, has moved on to that great Fish Pond in the Sky.  CQH took the news rather hard.  She gasped audibly, then burst into tears straight away.  It was her first experience with real grief for a pet she cared about and loved.  And despite all our attempts to prepare her for the possibility that at least one of the pets might die while we're on Study Abroad, the reality was always going to be more harsh than our discussions in the abstract.  I (LBH) grieved as well, right along with C.  We hugged and cried together.  EBH didn't cry even though she later admitted that she was sad.  She just didn't think crying would help anyone feel better.  But the moment C burst into tears, E went over to the sofa, got C's favorite ted (Granddaddy Q Bear) and brought it over to her.  It was a tender moment for all of us.  Not much fun, but teaching a child about the reality of death is never fun.

After we'd cried for several minutes, E broke the pattern of muffle sobs by announcing, "Does anyone have any good news?"  We smiled through our tears.

Given the feelings of the moment, I decided to take some pictures of the plants and flowers we bought to brighten our Paris apartment.  The florists here are wonderful, the flowers are magnificent, and quite inexpensive, too.  These roses lasted nearly two weeks, and the little solanum that we put on the window sill added some color to the room, while giving us something to water every day.  (Nothing makes a place feel more like home than having a plant to take care of.)  And the girls decided that HDH needed some more roses, so we moved the pink ones to the kitchen window-sill and put the orange ones in the middle of the dining table.

In the afternoon I took myself off for a solo walk through Paris.  As I was walking past Notre Dame, it appeared that some nuns and the Monsignor were giving a guided tour to a group of Mennonites.  How ecumenical!

Sacre Coeur.  I went by myself, since HDH had seen it before and the girls were pretty much "churched" out by this stage of our stay.  (I've seen Sacre Coeur a few times before, as well, but the walk up the stairs is a good workout, and since this was the afternoon of the announcement of Esther Williams's demise I decided lighting a candle in a church might be a nice thing to do.  Of course, we've lit candles in every church we visited in Paris, but this one had more meaning for me.)