March has been busy...and promises to get even busier.
On Saturday, I took Valentine to sign up at the fine arts school in Annemasse. It's her "Plan B" school if things don't work out for the school in Avignon.
I'm sure it will all work out, but it's good to have a backup plan, right?

That afternoon, our pal Max, Alexa and I went to Geneva to do a bit of shopping. I ended up finding an amazing pair of shoes on sale for 60% off! But mostly we wandered around the flea market at Plainpalais. They have one there every Wednesday and Saturday.

Plainpalais is a neighbourhood in central Geneva and here's and interesting fact about it: Historically, it was an area outside the densely populated city of Geneva where they brought the sick to avoid contagion and an epidemic.
Everybody looked pretty healthy there on Saturday, though- so that's good.....
It's such a drag to contract the plague. Amirite?
Something for everyone!

It was a bit cold and windly, so we stopped in a nearby Starbucks for a shockingly overpriced snack. But it was so good!!!!

On Saturday, we spent the day in downtown Geneva. It was a cold day to be walking around a lakeside city, but we were on a mission. My mom had a ton of souvenirs still to buy for the family back home...and she leaves Monday morning!
So, we got busy helping her choose chocolates (free samples, FTW!), t-shirts and suchlike items.
While the twins and I helped out Mom, Valentine, her boyfriend and Severin ran over to the Apple Store to try to clear up an issue with Tya's iPad (it never really has worked properly!). They were promptly given a brand new iPad and sent on their way.
How's that for customer service?!
After our labors, it was good to sit down to a nice lunch in an adorable Swiss-style restaurant:

Deliberations over the menu were long, but the three older kids finally decided on...fondue!

We were all pretty tired by the day's end and glad to be heading home!

Bob was happy to see us all.

As far as we can tell, anyway.

You may notice that the photos below do NOT contain Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Tower of London or serious guys in tall, black, fuzzy hats.
This is because none of the pictures were taken in London.
Don't worry- there ARE London pics and you will see them.
Eventually.
But right now, I'm in the midst of a visit from my mom, who trekked all the way over here to see us!! She's only here for two weeks, so we're keeping quite busy.
The main activity has been shopping.
Here we are on our way into the Balexert shopping mall, which is just outside of Geneva:

(No, she isn't crouching. My kids are all giants and she is kind of tiny.)

Here's Alexa modelling some adorable leopard ears:

MacDonald's is always popular with the kid. Mom says she agrees that the European versions of their food is MUCH nicer. The salads are quite good, even!

We have also ventured to the Ikea, as mom has never, ever been to one!
The thrills started in the restroom, where they had a Dyson AirBlade to dry our hands.
Very amusing!

Equally thrilling were the tasty Swedish meatballs!!

The fish Alexa ordered was less thrilling, but the desserts were quite excellent.
There were even donuts!

Luckily, we had an actual Swedish person (Valentine's boyfriend) to guide us through the huge labyrinth. He was also very handy for translating mysterious signs and carrying heavy stuff. Nice boy!

Having a bit of a rest is a must. The place is quite huge!

After a few days in a row of shopping, we decided to take Sunday off and have a rest at home.

What's in store this week? Definitely a day in downtown Geneva- other than that, no definite plans have been made...

January 2011 was not so bad, in retrospect.

There was this:

Nice, huh?
That was during a weekend in the Val d'Illiez, Switzerland.
It was all cute and stuff...

And there was this, too:

I has a fun weekend with a girlfriend who works as a translator each year at the big Solothurn Film Festival in Switzerland. It was fun to watch the movies from the booth and get the insider's view of everything...
And Solothurn turned out to be a very cute Swiss town:

Come to think of it, I spent a lot of time in Switzerland this last month....
I guess there's worse places to be.

At any rate, Valentine had no time for gallivanting pointlessly around foreign countries.
She stayed home, working hard:

What a good girl! And so talented! And lovely!

And finally....our cat, Daisy, who spent the entire month of January working assiduously to become even more gloriously porky.

Well done, kitty!

Yesterdays's shopping spree was great fun, but today hasn't been so shabby, either. We spent the day in Geneva.
Our Guest Twins were particularly keen to go, as they'd never been to Switzerland before.
All the girls had a great time shopping and doing all the usual tourist stuff:

From the photos, you'd guess it was a perfect day.

And it was, mostly.
(Except for the part where Mallory vomitted in the back of the car and got it all over her pants, obliging me to immediately buy her a new pair at the H&M. And then when the parking ticket machine short-changed me 30 Swiss Francs and the attendent said I'd get paid back "eventually, probably".)

A few weeks ago, I left my blog-readers with a nail-biter of a cliff-hanger: What unlikely and inappropriate object would JP end up dragging home from the hotel auction in Switzerland? A solid silver spittoon? An elephant -foot umbrella holder? A case of slightly-used pillow mints?
The truth , my friends, is somewhat stranger, and probably somewhat more expensive…

When we walked in the door of the huge old hotel, it didn’t occur to me that we would be buying anything. I was there strictly to gawk, and believe me, there was plenty to gawk at. As I mentioned in my previous post about the Royal Savoy, the place underwent a series of « unfortunate events » in the form of redecoration frenzies. One of the latest and most disastrous of these resulted in the place having a large stock of macramé wall hangings and wall-clocks made of olive-green pottery.
Yes, the 1970’s had struck hard and lethally at the old hotel.
Fortunately, they hadn’t gone completely mad and gotten rid of all the fine old antiques, but it made for some pretty odd juxtapositions- fine old 19th century landscapes hung beside terrible abstract paintings from the early 70’s, brown vinyl « leather » chairs beside a beautiful 17th century marqueterie bed.

There was plenty to gawk and the place was packed with people poking into every corner of the place, hunting for goodies. Some of them seemed obviously professional- restaurant and hotel owners hoping to snap up some useful equipment and furnishings. Some were obviously wealthy people looking for marqueterie beds and the like. Some of the latter group had me thinking: after you have been pumped full of huge amounts Botox and the Clostridium bacilum DNA in you starts to outnumber the human DNA, are you still, technically, a Homo sapien? Just asking…

Also, apparently a lot of people didn’t get the memo that excessive tanning is, like, really bad for you.

Anyway, we wandered around the first floor, admiring the fine silver and china, recoiling from the wads of knotted rope and finally went into the main dining room. This was the room that held the worst of the macramé, pottery and scribbly, depressing paintings. But looking up at the ceiling, things got rather better. There were nine large, rather beautiful crystal chandeliers.

JP liked them.
He liked them a lot.
He wrote down the lot number for one of them. (It’s the one at the front in the photo.)
He asked me what I thought.
I said:
a. It’s pretty,
b. It would look strange in a wooden chalet-style room
and
c. You wouldn’t get it anyway. There will be tons of bidders and the price will go too high..

After this, I didn’t really give it another thought.
My lovely pal Monica (who is also much smarter than me) spoke to me about it as we went upstairs and went through the rooms.
« You know Jean-Pierre really wants to bid on that chandelier, right? »
« He can write in a bid if he likes. I’m sure he’ll never get it. There’s too many people here- people with way more money than we have. »
« Are you sure? » She didn’t look convinced.
« Yes, I’m sure! » I said confidently « Otherwise I’d have to stop him from bidding, because we really don’t need a huge, expensive chandelier. »
The starting price on the thing was 600 Swiss Francs.
My plan for lighting our new room involved going to a hardware store and paying less than 100 euros for something. My idea was not to be elegant. What I had in mind was this: to not be sitting around in the dark and to not have an empty bank account.
That’s it.
But, of course, my simple, cheap plan was not to be.

To be continued....

The Royal Savoy Hotel of Lausanne, Switzerland.
Gosh, that sounds classy!
And I guess it was, for many, many years.
It’s a huge old dinosaur of a thing, dating back to the days when upper class young people from England and the USA would still swan around Europe to be «finished ».
The Americans wanted to acquire that sheen of genteel Old World culture. According to my deep analysis of this phenomena ( which mainly involved reading the book ‘Little Women‘ several times), this sheen could only be had by sitting by a lake ( preferably a Swiss lake, but a French one might do) and painting watercolors of it.

The English, on the other hand, seemed to seek ‘continental sophistication’. This is possibly involved the ability to eat roasted horse without freaking. I’m not sure.

And this was the kind of hotel where people would do this stuff. It was very fancy and very, very expensive.
And it wasn’t just the foreigners that flocked there. It was a favorite with European aristocrats, as well. In fact, the Spanish royal family lived in the hotel throughout the entire Second World War.

It was furnished with antiques from all over Europe from the 19th, 18th and even 17th century. Very chic.

But then something happened. Two very bad somethings, actually. Major remodels and refurbishings were done in the 1960’s and again in the early 1980’s.
And this was bad. Very, very bad.

The antique wallpapers and carpets all went and all kinds of newer stuff was installed. Some antiques were kept, but many disappeared and were replaced by modern 60s and 80s stuff. Bleh.
Worst of all, 19th century landscapes were pushed out of the way in favor of 1960’s art. God help them. The stuff was darn ugly and didn’t fit at all with the spirit of the building (or the spirit of good taste).

After this frenzy….nothing. Absolutely nothing for a long, long time.
And the hotel began a decline.
It began to disappoint

The internet arrived and word began to get around even faster…the Royal Savoy was musty, sad, shabby and far too expensive for what it offered. A client review from 2009 on one travel site called it a « smelly, dusty, run down big hotel ». Another person remarked « We were expecting a nice hotel but in fact it is an old, smelly and antiquated hotel ».
Ouch.

The « Grand Old Dame » had become a « crazy old homeless woman with ragged clothes and distinctly bad body odor ».

I guess it’s a good thing, then, that the place was sold recently.
And the new owners, Barwa Real Estate of the tiny (but rich!) nation of Qatar, had big plans.
Their first plan was to clear the whole place out. Everything would have to go: furnishings, bathroom fixtures, dishes, paintings, ashtrays, etc.
How would it all be gotten rid of?
It would be auctioned off.
And just who would buy this stuff?

Well….my husband would.

Back when we lived in Ouagadougou, we had a television, but never bothered to hook up the antenna. And there was no question of paying good money (or even bad money) for a satellite dish.
The tv was never turned on during the week.
At all.
On the weekends, our kids were allowed to watch just one video cassette per day (with the exception of special permission from their soft-hearted father).
One of the most often viewed and most treasured of these cassettes was « My Little Pony ». It was a French tape, so it was actually « Mon Petit Poney ». In this cartoon, small, chubby, pastel-colored talking horses went about their daily activities. And their daily activities included: being adorable, going on scavenger hunts, being even more cloyingly adorable, babysitting naughty (yet adorable!) toddler ponies, being adorable some more and rescuing a rock-star pony from the clutches of an evil manager. (Note: Rock Star Pony looked and sounded very much like The Artist Formerly Known as Prince and that particular episode was, as you may imagine, peculiarly fascinating)

One thing the ponies were never, ever obliged to do in an episode of the show was flee from people intent on killing them, butchering them and serving them up as Sunday lunch. This might well have been the plot of an installment if the show had been made in France, or Switzerland.

Most of you probably already knew that the French eat horse meat. What you may not have known is that the Swiss do it too.
They’re sneaky that way.
The Swiss may seem charming but you have to watch them closely. Otherwise, the minute you sit down to the table for a nice lunch, they are plonking down a huge roasting pan right in front of you and it’s chock-full of Mr. Ed basted in an herbed wine sauce.

And I know this is absolutely true because that’s exactly what happened to me last Sunday.

We’d gone to the Swiss city of Lausanne to visit some good friends there. We’ve known M and D for many years and were looking forward to a nice meal with them and then a group visit to an old hotel that was auctioning off all it’s furnishings (note: this hotel will figure very prominently in my next post for reasons which will surprise you. )

Anyway, there we were, all sitting around the table. There was JP, the twins, Sev, and our friends’ two lovely teen-aged sons. M was in the kitchen finishing up , while D approached the table with a big cast-iron dutch oven.
He put it down right in front of me and lifted off the lid with a decided flourish.
The large chunk of meat inside had a definite gray tinge to it. I figured that it was the sauce that had given it a funny color.
D want back to the kitchen to get a better knife and those of us left at the table speculated as to what it was.
Beef was the general consensus.
By this time, D was back at the table, hacking away at it with a large knife.
I asked him what the meat was.
« C’est un rôti de petit poulain. » he happily informed me.
« Poulain » is « foal » in English.
We were being served « roast of small foal ».
« You’re kidding, right? » I asked him.
D just looked at me quizzically and went back to putting slices on Sev’s plate.
I turned to JP. « He’s kidding, right? »
JP peered down at the lumps of gray on his own plate.
« No. I don’t think he’s kidding »
« Seriously . What is it? » I insisted, a vaguely worried feeling creeping into my mind.
« Poulain. » he said again, quite surprised I’d asked twice.
« Really? What? Really?........As in « My Little Pony ?» I asked, a bit desperately.
During all this, M had been coming down the long hallway to the dining room. She could see me clearly the whole time and she swears that throughout this exchange my face went from draining paper white to flushing bright red. (Note to self: Don’t plan to earn millions as a professional poker player)

D didn’t quite get what my problem was. In fact, he’d gone specially to the horse-butcher’s shop to buy us this nice treat.
I said that it was just like serving a roasted kitten.
In other words, not so good.

The twins, of course, refused to touch it.
The men of our family, on the other hand, chowed down. Sev even had seconds and thirds. With sauce. Horse blood sauce.
Gah!!

I’m not even that keen on eating cows. I serve beef to our family maybe once a week, max. It’s always organic, relatively happy beef and usually small quantities- little chunks in a sauce over pasta or rice, rather than steaks.

The foal roast was so very, very creepy.

Luckily, M and D are good pals and we all managed to have a good laugh about it in the end
Everyone but the foal, anyway…

It’s nearly 3pm now and I’ve lost all hope that work will start today on the addition to the house. When the builder told me « Monday » , he must have meant »Monday-ish » - a day similar to a Monday, but having a different name, such as Tuesday, Wednesday or even Friday. He might have even meant a Saturday in late 2011.
I really don’t know….

To distract myself from my disappointment, I’ll tell you all about our outing to see « Avatar » yesterday.
I bought our tickets online on Friday night and it was none too soon. The late afternoon show was already sold out again, and it was just sheer luck that there were still tickets for 1pm.
We left about an hour and a half before the show, as the cinema was in a shopping mall on the far side of Geneva. It’s actually not all that far from us, but I knew I’d have to allow time to buy a « vignette » at the French/Swiss border. That’s the little sticker that allows you to use Swiss highways all year long and I hadn’t yet gotten mine for 2010. And it was no use thinking we’d slide by vignette-less and undetected . The Swiss police LIVE to make foreigners cough up 30 euros for a vignette (and they all secretly hope you are just passing through and will use it just once). I actually don’t mind paying it, as we do use it throughout the year, but I do feel sorry for the tourists just trying to get back home to Austria (for example) without making a honking huge detour through northern Italy…

When we got to the border, my suspicions were confirmed. Even though it was lunch time on a nice Sunday, there were Swiss police out in force at the customs checkpoints, all diligently inspecting every vehicle. I was very glad I’d allowed myself the extra time to go wait in line and pay up.

Our final destination was the Balexert shopping mall. I vaguely remember when it was first built back in the early 90’s and was very cutting-edge- for Switzerland, anyway. Now the whole thing looks a bit tired and dated , but it was still good enough to thrill the twins.
« Wow! » said Mallory « This is like Paris, or maybe America! » (Those two places are her standards for greatness) « It even SMELLS like America! » she exclaimed.
When she says that, it generally means that the place smells: a.) clean, and b.) like popcorn.

It did smell USA-ish, I guess, but it was sure small and decrepit. If you set it down in the middle of Lincoln, Nebraska, people would just peek in and say « Well that’s just SAD. » and go right on their way. But I digress…

I was happy to have the printout in hand and just walk right by the hoards of people in line to buy tickets to the shows on the other 12 screens. We even had time to wait in the snack line. As is true everywhere, the snacks were so expensive that you’d think they’d been produced on Mars and shipped back to Earth. But the kids had to have a popcorn box to share, FTW. The twins were sweet and said they’d share a drink, so that helped. (I didn’t get anything, which was kind of a mistake, as I’d forgotten to eat that day . By the end of the three hour long film, it was 4pm and I was ready to eat a roasted Na’vi )

As we filed into the theater, we were each given a pair of funky red sunglasses. When we sat down (Yes, we found four seats together! Win!) Mallory found that hers were bent and the foam around earpieces was completely shredded. As I’d seen the writing on our tickets that said any missing or damaged glasses would cost us 100 Swiss Francs, this was a concern.
« Good grief », I told her, « Hand that over. It looks like a rabid badger’s been chewing on it .»
I left Mal and Al inventing wild stories about crazed badgers going to see « Avatar » and went to deny any responsibility for wanton eyewear destruction, plus ask for a new pair.

Then, the film started.

I have a lot to say about it- far too much to tack on to the end of this already long post. So, I’ll go into the particulars of the film next time…

There's still four days left before the kids go back to school. As usual, a holiday for the kids means absolutely no free time for mom. And that means the blog falls by the wayside, even though there is much to blog about.
On Thursday, for example, I drove the kids up to the canton of Fribourg in Switzerland. We visited the lovely walled village of Gruyeres. (Yes, like the cheese. )

But instead of visiting the cheese-making farm, we opted for the Nestle chocolate factory nearby. It involved a short tour and all the chocolate you cared to eat. Fun, but also a journey of self-discovery. You get to find out just how much self-discipline you have.
I have none, so no surprises there.

Another highlight of the day was the visit to the local castle.
Click on the link in the right sidebar to see the whole album of the visit.

Here's a picture I took of the snow we got here at home on Wednesday night. It's the view from our balcony.

I SO love living in France!!

My plan to post more photos was temporarily foiled by my server going down for a day.
But I'm back online and here with some pics from our day yesterday at Lake Leman (or Lake Geneva, as it is often informally called)

We went to a lovely beach on the Swiss side with some good friends from a nearby village.

Here are the twins just getting their feet wet. At 19°C, the water was cold for us!

Here is Rafael explaining to Severin that the boat works WAY better if you actually put it in the water.

Severin finally got the boat figured out and took his friend Patrick for a spin. His little sisters didn't rate a spot onboard and had to swim.

Valentine got sunburned and Mallory got stung by a wasp, but other than that, a good time was had by all.

Today we had good friends visiting from the north side of the lake. We know Jo and her family from Ouaga! But now, by some great stroke of luck they have ended up living just an hours drive away from us here in France.

And tomorrow promises more fun (plus pictures) as we head up higher in the mountains to the village of Saint Jean des Aulps where they are having a sort of renaissance faire. Srsly!