While shedding our Seattle life in preparation for our move to France, we got rid of a lot of shtuff. I went through a few pregnancies and sizes, I optimistically brought my skinny jeans and those things that went with them. Brent gave away a pile of rugby jumpers that were well worn or too big. Both of us cut our clothes down hugely. (okay, Brent more than me) We were headed for a small European house with a small car and small rooms and small everything. We had no intention of farming. And here we are. Doors are getting installed. Business is getting set up. Kids are getting raised. Laundry is backing up. The work around here is dirty. Brent has a supply of work pants, but even those have a limit to how many days they can be worn. After workpants comes the old yuppie-day designer jeans, which don’t handle much beyond meetings, air hockey and Friday beers. So what’s after that? Brent loaded in bricks in his steel-toe boots and jammies. Oh those rugby jumpers would have come in handy right about now and the seemingly endless supply of old jeans.
The JCB came today and the kids had to stay inside to avoid any potential dangers. It turned out to be a gorgeous, warm day of which we got to catch the last bit of. Lucy found the old Skoda tire swing that Brent hung in the barn at the old place. She tried to drag Minty in it like a sled, but quickly found that to be like an event in a Strong Man contest. We searched around for the perfect tree to toss the rope over. There’s a great one that faces the picnic spot. We all tried a few methods to get the rope around the branch, but with no luck. It was too tall. Lucy found a smaller tree to use while we seek another way to hang the swing. She did her creative rope move around a piece of wood and made a standing-hanging-sitting swing that did the trick. Otto was pissed that she threw the rope over the branch, but quickly ran off to continue banging wood on wood to find the many different sounds they made.
It was a crazy, but exciting day today. The kids were home from school. The chimney man cometh. The door and window men were here. Chimney is clean and a new door hangs. But wait … in the midst of it all, Brent managed to crank out three jars and one terrine of head cheese. I feel great, but the minute I sit down, I remember that not only am I pregnant, b-day is just days away. I saw Smeggs grab a few zzz’s by the front door and wanted to join her.
In my (almost) two years here in France, I’ve noticed a lot of music that is played at the various stores. What stands out to me is the frequent play of any song sung in English that have “fuck you” in the chorus. Lily Allen’s Fuck You and Cee Lo Green’s Fuck You song have been seriously overplayed. I can only imagine the radio DJs getting a huge giggle out of picking these songs. Also, i see a great opportunity to start a little side career when I’m not farming by creating pop songs with English swear words for the French pop market.
Lucy, Otto and Clementine call this “Quattro’s Bath.” Lucy will tell you that really it’s a “butt washer.” For now, it’s another pink thing in our very pink bathroom. I’ve Ikea-ed a lot of the bathroom to diffuse the intensity so It’s looking much better now. When Mr. Drill Man helps me hang the final hardware towel rack things, I’ll do a little before after post.
… Quattro is the codename for the fourth Curtis.