After the usual horrible drive (but bonus… Fifty only threw up once) we got to French Mommy’s a little after 10pm. A double cheek kiss, a bite to eat, and straight to bed we went (driving with Fifty is a very tiresome experience).
Around midnight I woke up to someone shouting, in French. French Nana had woken up and began shouting from her room downstairs to French Mommy’s upstairs asking if “the kids had arrived” (love that). But they then proceeded to have a conversation, shouting, for a few minutes.
Yes the kids are here, and they were sleeping.
With the exception of being woken up in the middle of the night by a shouting Nana, It was a cozy, relaxing weekend and everything I could have hoped for…
Saturday was spent hanging out at the bar, The Husband was fed his beef tongue, I stuffed myself with Auvergne blue cheese (it’s the blue cheese of champions, plus, it gives you crazy wicked dreams). We watched Clermont clobber Paris in rugby and I got to indulge in my crush on Morgan Parra.
And once again I was given loads and loads of presents. I think I get spoiled because deep down French Mommy had wished that The Husband had been a girl (he’d make a pretty one too… all blonde hair and legs).
I sat by the fire all day on Sunday reading. Isn’t that the best? Like six hours of none stop reading. I never ever get to do that.
(I’m reading The Girl Who Played with Fire… if you haven’t read the Millennium trilogy
you should do so now)
Fifty was distracted by all the foie gras and roast beef he was being fed. (I think he might be the first dog to get gout) so I was free to relax without his constant neediness. And The Husband was distracted by his friends…
and his toys…
I love how French Mommy has left his room intact. The Husband went away to school when he was eleven and his room always looks like it’s waiting for him to come home… and he’s eleven.
(And I’m totally going to be in trouble for posting these photos)
And  I ate twenty escargot! Twenty! I counted and took a photo for posterity…
Ooh ooh ooh… you ready for the best part? Â I got to pick out the wines for dinner from the wine cellar (now you know the real reason I like it there). I love it down there so much that if it wasn’t so cold, I think I’d sleep there, snuggled up surrounded by all of my friends.
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