It's Me, Sara Louise

Christmas Eve on the road at 11:15 stopped at Papa’s to deliver bonbons. Still haven’t seen postman to give him his or collect any of my missing post… thoroughly convinced at this point that he hates me and is avoiding me but convinced Christmas bonbons will change all that.

(Update – have since given Postman bonbons, he said I was very nice, I have had one package delivered but still have six to go!)

Less than a half hour after leaving Papa’s and Fifty threw up twice. I guess he likes the topsy turvy mountainside even less than I do. He looked queasy until we got on the motorway outside of Avignon. Not a good look on a puppy.

Arrived at 6pm, much quicker than the back roads as I suspected, although the Boyfriend still disputes this.

It took French Mommy and French Nana awhile to warm to Fifty. They kept eyeing him waiting for him to chew something or get something dirty. Uncle G liked him right away. I like Uncle G.

Aperitif time before dinner, we had Champagne and pain surprise. I’ve never seen pain surprise before. It’s a loaf of bread, made into about four different type of small triangle sandwiches and put back together. I was too busy sipping and eating so I forgot to take a picture, but thanks to google…

Image: Google

I realized that in French Mommy’s house, Christmas Eve is the big night and we would be exchanging presents. I was happy to unwrap gifts but sad that nothing exciting would be happening Christmas morning. At least the Boyfriend and I are still waiting on our internet presents that we ordered. Something to look forward to after the holidays.

For dinner Uncle G opened a bottle of Bordeaux from his cellar, 1985, almost as old as the Boyfriend. I knew I liked Uncle G.

Dinner had the required Fois Gras and escargot. Fois Gras is so important to the French at Christmas that almost every news segment I saw in the week leading up to the holidays had a bit about Fois Gras production, purchasing, and consumption. They take their food very seriously.

After, we had smoked salmon, roast chicken, and marron (like a chestnut and sauteed – I’m not a fan). All followed of course by cheese, cheese, and more cheese, and a cake, shaped like a yuletide log called, Buche de Noel. Once again I was too busy stuffing my face to take a photo…

We woke up early on Christmas morning and I was sad that I had no more presents to unwrap, but I happily thought about staying the day on the couch by the fire watching holiday movies on television, even if they were in French. But nope, that was not to be. Uncle G wanted to take the Boyfriend and I for a drive farther up into the mountains. He seemed very excited about this. The Boyfriend and I not so much. One of the reasons I love the Boyfriend is that he is the same as me, we don’t walk, hike, or drive unless we have a destination. That’s for the Belgian and German tourists, not for us. But in the spirit of Christmas, we abandoned our comfy clothes and couch and ventured out into the cold…

Looks freezing doesn’t it? That’s because it was!

The next and last day in La Bourboule (haven’t gotten to say it for awhile) we took Fifty to the park and the Skippie Team had a grand old time…

I rediscovered the joys of a slide…

But was sad that the big slides were closed. I guess without proper supervision some kid might hurt themselves. Stupid kids, ruining my fun. But then I found this thing and got on…

I’m a little too big but I wouldn’t let that stop me. And no reason for Fifty not to have a little fun too…

I’d show you the photos of the Boyfriend on the swing but I’d get in trouble.

And after the park we went to French Nana’s bar where Fifty earned his keep…

That was pretty much my Christmas holiday in La Bourboule (hee hee).

Next up, a very grown up New Year’s Eve…