For Mandy

Not with the same gutso as when there's no camera, and a bit of an annoying backpack-carrier strap, but the best recording so far:

His father's son

In the same month he lost his first tooth, I spotted this:

His first grey hair.

!

Nux vomica

So you may have noticed that in my last post, when I gave thanks for not spewing on the ferry back from Corsica, I did not include thanks to any pharmaceutical company.

In fact, I had wanted drugs. Desperately. I am a big believer in better living through modern medicine. And better living, as I discovered on the trip over, most definitely includes not having to help my children to spew neatly for six hours while simultaneously trying to spew neatly myself.

So I went to the chemist, and asked for an anti-seasickness drug, and the lady reached to a shelf behind the counter - the place where you know they keep the strongest stuff - and handed me a packet.

Oh the relief! We wouldn't be sick on the trip back!

Only, there was a snag.

Because, you see, I never went to get the operation. Because, shorty after deciding I would, I saw a fertility chart, and based on my age alone I was one hair's width away from the big red line marked INFERTILE. Add to this the very few conceptions we have managed, and I just didn't see the point.

(And maybe I'm still a little hopeful.)

Now, I didn't really think I was pregnant, but there was some unusual spotting last week, and even that wouldn't have made me think I was pregnant, except that C said I was either pregnant or menopause was starting.

And him having said it out loud somehow made the possibility more likely - because damned if I'm going through menopause already - which, shit, meant I probably shouldn't take any medication.

SHIT.

Just to be sure, I asked the lady whether I could take the anti-seasickness drug if there was a possibility I was pregnant.

No problem! she said brightly. It's homeopathy! No side effects at all!

Well there's a revelation, there's no side effects from sugar pills!

But, WTF?? Since when do you go to a chemist, and ask for a drug, and get given sugar pills? From behind the counter? Where they keep the MEDICINE?

Now, some of you may be thinking I am being a little closed-minded about homeopathy, and yes it's true, I don't believe it. I would give a herbal remedy a go, but not something that a) requires water to have a memory, and b) requires this memory to be transfered to a pill. A BONE-DRY pill.

But there was another snag.

I am my father's daughter. My father who routinely walked into a shop knowing exactly what he wanted and then walked out with something else, something he didn't want and knew was wrong but had been convinced to buy anyway.

I wanted a clinical-trial-proven drug, I bought sugar pills.

Then I had a dilemma, because I really wanted to prove that the sugar pills were useless, only that would have meant us all spewing for six hours.

And since we didn't spew, I now have the frustration of not being able to categorically say this was because the ferry was bigger and the sea calmer, and not because of a 10^-8 dilution of petrol and strychnine, amongst other poisons.

In a not-quite-but-pretty-close non sequitor, as well as a clumsy end to this post and ad for my own photos, go see how I could forgive Corsica for the trip over...

Last week

So, last Saturday week, we discovered that we are a weak-bellied family. A family of land-lubbers. A family of seasick suffering spewers.

It was not pleasant.

Not pleasant at all.

But, once installed in our rental holiday house, with this view:

... and a beautiful river gorge to swim in, and the lovely warm Mediterranean not far away, we forgave Corsica the horrific ferry trip over.

And then this Saturday, on the trip back, very gratefully thanked the gods for a flatter sea and less stomach-turning ferry.

Not you too?

We have a cat! Living in our house! As of this morning!

And at lunch, a long-held dream came true: a little cat asleep on my lap as I worked.

Bliss!

For about 2 minutes, until she started farting.

As if a stinky lap-farting son wasn't enough.

Sigh.

Two tee hees

1.

Scene: Last week at the lake, before the icecream. A women was standing beside us with a small dog, and Téo and Lukan were talking about the dog in English.

Woman: You know, this dog speaks English too!

Lukan: No, de dog don't speak in English, de dog go woof woof.

2.

Scene: The weekend before last in a hotel, after we let the kids watch a bit of TV (with a MUCH smaller screen than ours) while we got ready in the morning.

Téo: I like this television better than ours. It has lots of different things to watch, but ours only has the same DVDs all the time.

Fly swats: 50 / Flies: 2

The flies suddenly appeared in force yesterday. At lunch, at dinner, we whacked and whacked and still new squadrons came buzzing in to zoom around our heads and crawl on our food. More whacking.

The pile of dead flies got quite big.

But there were casualties on our side too.

Is there such a thing as a metal fly swat?? Because to be able to eat outside, we clearly need better artillery...