Same thing, different experience

This morning in the vineyards...

- It's too cool, the jump. It hurts our bottoms when we land, but it's really fun!

- Waaaahhhhhhh!!! I don't like it, de jump. I don't like de snow. Go home right now!

How not to get a babysitting job in 4 easy steps

1. Start the interview by saying My brother's kids hit me once, so I hit them back.

2. Tap a 2-year-old on the butt and then say What are you still doing in nappies?

3. Tell the same 2-year-old he's not a baby and so shouldn't be sucking his thumb.

4. Tell the parents how much you love kids, while simultaneously ignoring the 2-year-old who has, for the first time since you've arrived, come to you to show you a toy.

Whispers but no songs

The other day, Téo was given a cowrie shell and instructed to put it to his ear.

I can hear the sea mummy!

...

But why can't I hear any mermaids?

Au revoir et merci

On December 28, C's maternal grandmother, Violette, passed away. She would have been 88 in February.

She'd been getting weaker for a while, and over the past couple of years we've seen her more inside a hospital than out. She fell asleep, a long sleep for several days, and then quietly stopped living.

But even if her death was not completely unexpected, it's hard to believe I'll never see her again. Hard to believe the grand-maman we visited before leaving - dressed and wearing her jewelry, who greeted us happily, who wished us merry Christmas and a safe journey, who kissed us goodbye - is no longer here.

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I am very unaccepting of death - my own in particular. And I frankly recoil at the idea of my body still existing once my brain is dead. I don't like the idea of being a lifeless piece of meat and bone and fat, orifices plugged, handled by who knows who, stored in the morgue until disposal.

My favoured manner of death is atomisation. Death and body disposal neatly taken care of at the same time. Although, the necessary nuclear explosion is probably a little unfair to everyone else.

Being deep frozen in liquid nitrogen and then shattered to pieces also appeals to me. I guess though there'd need to be a drying step in there somewhere, so that on melting I'd be dust and not goo.

Burning, I'm not really so keen on.

Burying, I refuse to contemplate.

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On Wednesday we went to the cemetery.

As I watched Violette's ashes being tipped into an unmarked grave in a pretty little garden, I had a moment of clarity. Of how this is what it will be for me, ashes released in front of my family. How this ending is OK, that this is how it should be.

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Au revoir Grand-maman Violette. And thank you for bringing me closer to acceptance.

The downside of an articulate toddler

I really like that Lukan is a good speaker. He can explain what he wants, he tells stories, and it's maybe the reason he rarely has tantrums.

But sometimes he's just a little too clear. Like the other day, for example.

I don't like [family member name].

Or this evening.

You annoying me mummy.

Oy oy oy.

24 hours, 16,832 km, and a hemisphere apart

The squeals are the same though.