Sunday, June 13, 2010
1. My youngest can swim 25m. He had to do the 25m swimming certificate so he could enjoy a day at Aqualand without armbands (la honte, maman!) with the centre aéré. You go along to a public pool, the kid goes to see a maitre nageur who tells him to get on with it. Kid jumps in the pool along with all the splashers and shriekers and makes his way to the other end by hook or by crook as long as he doesn't touch the side. After 2 years of swimming lessons (some 2-3 yrs ago), my youngest frogged it inelegantly having forgotten most of what he learned about breast stroke technique. He remembered how to stay afloat though. Certificate in the bag, price 0€.
2. My youngest thinks it's a time saver and all round more efficient way of doing things to roll out the pizza dough (made courtesy of the bread machine) actually in the pizza baking trays. I'm not convinced but let him get on with it. They tasted exactly like mine...
3. That I really don't like flea markets. Musty smells, damp, rubbish, broken crap, stupid prices, no visible prices so you have to ask, and the odd thing you might consider but by that time you're so bored all you want to do is get home and have a glass of cool rosé. I went to our local one because that is what one does, to show willing, make up the numbers, and give a friend's daughter one or two bits of my own rubbish to sell (costume jewellery). She made 1€25 for me (50%). Glad I wasn't sitting in the sun for 4 hrs for that!
I dutifully went along to my youngest's footie tournament this afternoon, 4pm. The heavens opened and he had one game left to play. I was all for bringing him home. Then the heavens closed and they resumed play. Two hours later my youngest had finished playing but was waiting for the prize-giving. I'd had enough. Two hours for 30 minutes of a footie game was taking parenting beyond reasonable, so another, more devoted mother said she'd bring him home, and I left to make meatloaf for dinner. Escape!
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I'm with you on the flea markets, Sarah. I felt the same in the UK - everyone would go on how great Camden Market and the Lock was and I thought it was just awful- it's the same here. Most of the rubbish people don't want is the same the world over - I wouldn't look twice at it.ReplyDelete
Well done on pruning maternal duties
FF, it's nice to know I'm not alone on the flea market front. I have enough trouble keeping my own rubbish at bay, I certainly don't want to take on anyone else's!ReplyDelete
Re footie, I had a book to read otherwise I'd have given it even less time. When I arrived at 4pm, it was pouring and they were all confined in a shelter under the club house. The noise was phenomenal!
Reminds me of pétanque tournaments in the rainy season. I think the rules specify that you have to keep playing until the cochonnet floats.ReplyDelete
I once met an English champion player and asked him how pétanque suited the weather over there. He replied "wet-suits."
Hurray for life-long learning...ReplyDelete
Expat - I'm glad I never took up petanque professionally.ReplyDelete
PG - HURRAY!!