I like going to the Cave des Gobelins, which is a shop devoted solely to selling wines. We also have Nicolas and another Cave, but they are much further away. And then the supermarkets. Our French teacher came over, looked skeptically at the wines I had picked at random from Monoprix (Target-lite), and said, "when I was younger I could drink crap wine like that but now my stomach won't let me". Thank you for your insight, kind sir.
So I've gone to the Cave of the Gobelins a couple times now. It's great because it serves the double purpose of getting a good wine, but since I don't know much about wine, I also get to practice speaking and hearing French. I ask for a recommendation or advice and they ask me what I'm eating, if I'm eating tonight, what price range I'd be willing to pay. Yesterday, the guy told me I spoke very good French. I told him not to worry about being nice, I would come back again. But both times, his recommendations have been very good including a nice Chardonnay, a variety I usually don't like. Coupled with the fact that chicken is a poor man's food, I usually don't drink much of it.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Crawling
Michael is not crawling yet but he is close. He can get up on his all fours and then he doesn't know what to do with himself. He rocks back and forth and then either launches his entire body forward, cries out of frustration or lays back down. It is really very amusing. He'll just have to figure this out on his own because I won't do it for him. I think it should not take him too long; there are only a few possibilities that he must try out before he can really crawl.
That is not to say he is immobile. Quite the opposite as he is now moving everywhere and becoming a true terror. He used to roll everywhere, spin by some angle and then roll again to get where he wanted. Then he tried to crawl but he could only move backwards. That lasted about two weeks, and now he is able to drag his body across the floor like a soldier. And he is actually quite efficient at moving himself around. I put him on the floor this morning while Phuong was out buying breakfast, and he crawled to the cable box and manhandled it before I picked him up and put him back at his starting point. Then he repeated the exercise 6 times before I picked him up and held him.
Michael is also terrorizing Phuong and I at the dinner table. He wants to touch, feel and eat everything and there is little stopping him from getting what he wants. We have to move everything into a little island in the rear-center of the table where he cannot find it but he keeps getting longer and it's only a matter of time before he is banging pots all day and breaking everything we own.
I don't know where Michael got that ridiculous hairline of his, but judging from both of his grandfathers, he probably won't have to worry too much about how to cut it.
That is not to say he is immobile. Quite the opposite as he is now moving everywhere and becoming a true terror. He used to roll everywhere, spin by some angle and then roll again to get where he wanted. Then he tried to crawl but he could only move backwards. That lasted about two weeks, and now he is able to drag his body across the floor like a soldier. And he is actually quite efficient at moving himself around. I put him on the floor this morning while Phuong was out buying breakfast, and he crawled to the cable box and manhandled it before I picked him up and put him back at his starting point. Then he repeated the exercise 6 times before I picked him up and held him.
Michael is also terrorizing Phuong and I at the dinner table. He wants to touch, feel and eat everything and there is little stopping him from getting what he wants. We have to move everything into a little island in the rear-center of the table where he cannot find it but he keeps getting longer and it's only a matter of time before he is banging pots all day and breaking everything we own.
I don't know where Michael got that ridiculous hairline of his, but judging from both of his grandfathers, he probably won't have to worry too much about how to cut it.
I want to blog about one my first French moments that happened before we even moved out of our 1st hotel room.
I went in search of Le Temple du Scrap, the scrapbook store in Paris. I ventured forth and was met with the strongest winds I have ever walked in. At certain points, I actually could not walk because I had to brace myself and the stroller against the wind. I have never walked through anything like that before. The next day, I hear on the news that a fierce winter storm had ripped through Europe and Paris was met with high velocity winds. OH yeah? Makes sense THE DAY AFTER. Should have watched the weather that day!
But I digress.
When I get to Le Temple du Scrap, I am elated to find out that 1.) I actually made it there by myself and 2.) it exists. So I get to the handle on the door and I pull and I pull and it just won't budge. So I check out the store hours and I notice that it is closed for lunch. But it's not lunch time so it should not be closed. So I look inside and I see people wandering around in there! So it MUST be open. So I try the handle again and it STILL won't budge. I stand there, sad and dejected. Lustily watching the people inside.
And a little African boy wanders by, sees my plight and stops. As I walk away, he gestures to me to follow him where he shows me the door to my lovely Le Temple du Scrap and proceeds to PUSH the door open for me. PUSH not PULL.
French lesson for everyone:
Tirez = Pull
Poussez = Push
And I don't want to hear any jokes about the "Far Side's" Midvale School for the Gifted.
P
I went in search of Le Temple du Scrap, the scrapbook store in Paris. I ventured forth and was met with the strongest winds I have ever walked in. At certain points, I actually could not walk because I had to brace myself and the stroller against the wind. I have never walked through anything like that before. The next day, I hear on the news that a fierce winter storm had ripped through Europe and Paris was met with high velocity winds. OH yeah? Makes sense THE DAY AFTER. Should have watched the weather that day!
But I digress.
When I get to Le Temple du Scrap, I am elated to find out that 1.) I actually made it there by myself and 2.) it exists. So I get to the handle on the door and I pull and I pull and it just won't budge. So I check out the store hours and I notice that it is closed for lunch. But it's not lunch time so it should not be closed. So I look inside and I see people wandering around in there! So it MUST be open. So I try the handle again and it STILL won't budge. I stand there, sad and dejected. Lustily watching the people inside.
And a little African boy wanders by, sees my plight and stops. As I walk away, he gestures to me to follow him where he shows me the door to my lovely Le Temple du Scrap and proceeds to PUSH the door open for me. PUSH not PULL.
French lesson for everyone:
Tirez = Pull
Poussez = Push
And I don't want to hear any jokes about the "Far Side's" Midvale School for the Gifted.
P
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