Summer stripes

So. 

This jumper has been all finished bar the shouting for probably a few months now. All that remained was picking up the stitches around the neck band, darning the ends in, and attaching the sleeves. I procrastinated because I so wanted to get the picking up stitches around a curve right. I needn't have sat on it for that long, it was really quite simple. As always.

  

We are very happy with this jumper. That cotton is oh so soft and floppy. It flows and follows all the fast movements this small man makes. He put it on straight away and wore it for days. Sometimes with nothing else. It's already dirty. He knows how to make a Mama happy.  

It's a bit late for this northern hemisphere summer. We're days from it's official end and weather has been less that summery of late. Here's hoping it fits him for the cool summer evenings back home. But we'll wear it with necessary layers underneath for the time being. 

Cotton flannels

The first few weeks here were homey and presented their challenges, however, I managed to grab a few moments here and there to click a few stitches. It's often amusing, how we squeeze in those moments to create, to feel productive, to achieve something small. This looks as amusing to me in the moment as it must be to see in a picture. What you cannot see in the picture above is the third, monkey child, clinging to my back.

And what happened was these flannels (face washers). We were given the natural colour one by a dear friend and this was my template. They are all cotton of different types, just a few stitches larger if they were for grown ups. (Ravelry link)

The ones for the kids have been used for many purposes, including tucking the new toothbrushes in for a nap.

And a couple are gifts for my cousin and a friend's new baby so a little initial in a corner to personalise them. Funny, they both have names that start with Z, so I've had a little Z practice now. 

Wonder full: something for the senses

Something to hear, something to see, something to smell, something to taste, something to touch, or something to know....

Something to be thankful for.

This one of those experiences that disarmingly reaches the child within you. There is some kind of magic in simply seeing this place. When it first appeared in the landscape, grew out of the horizon I couldn't quite believe it. You know when you see something beautiful you just keep looking. I just kept looking. 

I'm not sure I've had my breath taken away at the sight of a building before but this caused that short involuntary intake of breath. It is stuff of fantasy, of fairy tale. Gasp.

Le Mont Saint Michel

France: how we spent our days

We indulged our senses. 

Perhaps some more than others. Perhaps food was high on that indulgence list. 

On second thoughts, it definately was. 

We ate too many crepes. 

Little Winter, she ate so much food we were concerned she may explode at times. Croissant, pain au chocolat, and baguette lathered in butter were apparently more than acceptable in copious amounts. 

She earned a new title: (in our best pigeon French) 'Un petite fatty'.

Spring and I, optimistically, decided to sit outside with a needlecraft project one afternoon. We got a few stitches in before packing up to come in from the rain. 

We visited the nearby zoo, a cafe with farm animals, saw a castle, and spent much time at the house. 

On a visit to the beach we made mermaids and mermen (Triton with his trident to be exact) and drew big sharks in the sand. We were spoiled by a group of people who were flying kites. We watched them go up, one by one, and over the space of an hour or so they filled the sky. It became an ocean; jelly fish, reef fish, a shark, a whale, a scuba diver, a sea dragon, an octopus, a squid, a few mermaids and seagulls and butterflies and a ladybird. Truly amazing.

But the best thing about this trip?

...was we got Dada. In a place with tv and newspapers that we couldn't read or understand, where we knew no-one, with no internet and very little phone coverage, we had his full attention. He relaxed. We were his focus. All of us. Each of us. Just us. He prepared food, he sat, he played, he organised outings, he read, he slept. We were all so happy because he was happy and he was ours, completely.

France: Where we were

After almost an entire days travelling time, an attempt to go ‘around’an accident that meant an extra hour in the car (oh, the confidence of my man, even in a foreign country), multiple toll roads without having any local currency and a magnificent car poo incident that required a stop on the side of the Autoroute, where they drive 130km an hour in the slow lane, that pushed the boundaries of 'We’re doing ok' we arrived at bedtime. In broad daylight, in a village with about ten houses Madame Lunel was waiting to hand us a key and tell us in her beautiful French how everything works. We smiled and nodded and then when she'd left discovered she'd forgotten to tell us how to turn the hot water on.

The house is amazing. There are three storeys, stone floors, timber floors, small beautiful doors and stairs everywhere. There are hidey holes that the kids find oh so exciting and a fire place in every room. Some of them have been covered, others are huge and magnificent (and frightening for a mama of small children so probably won’t be lit whilst we are here despite the lack of summer temperatures). There are mirrors and French posters and hats and books, places to sit or lounge and desks for writing. 

This house is directly across the road from the village church. There is a large clock on the side of the tower facing us and the bell rings to tell us the time. It also rings busily at seven each morning, midday and seven in the evening. Perhaps that's about the work day? We told the kids it was to tell you when to go to bed and when to get up, he, he. Didn't always work but hey, no harm in trying. 

There is a well in the back yard and a view down over the fields. The next village has a small shop/bar/cafe with friendly owners who Dada has befriended, it's only a kilometre away so a nice walk past the corn fields and many bulls who stare intimidatingly.

With the weather not looking as summery as we might’ve liked we’re thinking that maybe the kids may learn a little French from watching the French DVDs. Maybe not.