Late departure

A hastily arranged trip last week gave us three pleasant days across the Channel, even if one of those days was taken up by the funeral of the family doyenne, the reason for the long weekend. And it was a long weekend. Woken in the small hours of Thursday morning by an SMS from Air France to say our 9am flight had been cancelled wasn't the best start, even if it also said we'd been put on another flight later in the day. No-one told la petite though, so no luxury of a lie-in…

We eventually reached Birmingham airport in the early evening and set off for the three hour drive north; three hours in theory - rush hour traffic on the good old British motorway system pushed it closer to four, and inattention to road signs added another half hour as we got lost somewhere in the wilds of Teeside. La petite suffered being cooped up in a car seat for over four hours remarkably well until the physical discomfort (and an emergency stop occasioned by the driver's lapse in concentration and clumsy use of walking boots on the pedals) got the better of her and brought forth most of her dinner. It was thus a somewhat bedraggled trio who eventually made it to great-aunt's house late in the evening, where we had a quick snack before joining la belle-mère et le beau-frère for the short drive to a nearby hotel.

There was no lie-in the following morning either. Despite the lack of sleep the previous evening, the little alarm clock woke us close to her normal hour (French time). She was however persuaded to join her parents in having a good hour's nap after breakfast before we checked out. From the hotel it was back to join the assembling family at the senior S-sister's house prior to the lunchtime service, and then la petite enjoyed a 45 minute siesta as papa perambulated round an estate of mansions while everyone else said goodbye to the last of the great generation at the crematorium.

There were snacks and much catching up after the service before those not staying overnight made their way homewards. Which for us meant our Cheshire home chez la grand-mère. Despite more rush hour traffic on the M62 and a short screaming fit solved by a stop to feed la petite and interrupt uncle's fast food dinner, we were there by 8pm and in bed by ten.

Saturday we finally managed a lie-in of sorts as la petite coquinette woke at her normal time but then caught up on some sleep by dropping off for another hour. First bowl of porridge of the winter was on the late breakfast menu before we headed off to brave the hounds in north Wales for a deluxe meals-on-wheels lunch. Everyone should have a Lebanese father-in-law who likes cooking. Thence it was back to Tattenhall to give baby a much-needed early night.

A late afternoon flight back to Lyon made for a relaxed Sunday morning and drive back to Brum, and a grumpy baby was kept more or less quiet during the latter part of the flight by drip-feeding her biscuits and dilute apple juice. We finally got home in the early evening, put la petite straight to bed, and ate defrosted red cabbage before getting a welcome early night ourselves.

No rest for the wicked, or the saintly for that matter. Work for la bienheureuse on Monday was followed by a late afternoon visit to the baby doctor - routine 9th month checkup after an hour spent in a waiting room unusually full of other babies and parents. While notre petite was pronounced to be in bouncing good health, elsewhere there were sniffles aplenty and one baby suffering from bronchitis - winter fast approaches.

Tuesday morning la travailleuse endured a 6am alarm call and an all day trip to Germany while la petite and I slowly got used to having only each other for company during the day. Apart from when the locksmith visited to replace the broken front door lock, and the survey lady visited to complete our official entry into French work statistics.

Sunny lockout

The long bank holiday weekend was blessed with sunshine and mild temperatures. We duly took advantage with a long afternoon promenade each day. On Friday we followed the crowds along the river to the park, where la petite was treated to her first open air autumn goûter - yoghurt and biscuit on the menu. A pleasant afternoon ended in consternation when we returned home to find the key wouldn't turn in the lock. Not the ideal situation, being locked out of the apartment with an 8 month old baby, but fortunately the upstairs neighbours were there (unusually for a bank holiday weekend) and came to the rescue, providing the phone number of a reliable locksmith, drinks and shelter while he turned up and drilled his way in. New locks on the agenda this week…

Saturday we joined the shopping crowds on the Presqu'île and then had the bright idea of climbing the hill to Fourvière. Baby carrier rather than pushchair might have been the right choice but it was still rather a hard slog with an extra 12kg on papa's back. At the top the crowd queued three deep to look at the view with Mont Blanc just visible in the distance. Second open air afternoon snack on the way down with la petite gourmande demonstrating her raspberry blowing technique to all and sundry. Sunday saw another jaunt to the park - a more genteel amble this time - to mingle with the crowds and the falling leaves. The fine weather continues this week, with night time temperatures inexorably dropping. The first frost isn't far away…

Adjusting

La petite coquinette seems to have adjusted to winter time. Seven am alarm call this morning, but the previous two it was closer to 7:30. As the season changes so it seems do her habits. Perhaps understandably, as the days shorten, she seems to think she has to take advantage of every available daylight hour. And sleeping during the day earlier this week was not part of that agenda. Actually she did eventually, but usually only after lengthy and vociferous protest. Maybe it was just a phase, with tooth number two on the way. Hopefully the reversion to a former favourite pastime - raspberry blowing during mealtime - is also a passing phase. If not we'll soon have rather fetching spatter-effect wallpaper and furniture...

The weather in Lyon remains mild, though not quite as mild as a week ago, when the minimum nighttime temperature was a couple of degrees higher than the average maximum daytime temperature for this time of year. It was looking a lot more like autumn though, with the sunshine of the previous week making way for overcast skies. Which tended to make our habitual afternoon riverside promenades rather gloomy affairs before the sunshine returned yesterday.

La petite famille was reunited again yesterday, after several days apart. Last Saturday I caught an early flight to Blighty for another pilgrimage to the blessed ground. For a change the game was comfortable, as was the habitual overnight welcome chez le grand chef et la petite beaucoup. La bienheureuse and I then briefly crossed in Lyon on Sunday night before she flew to the teutonic north for a couple of days of meetings.

Economic belt tightening is the adjustment apparently required in France to reduce the deficit and retain the sacred triple A rating handed out by the same American based agencies who gave AAA+ rating to Freddie & Fannie Lehman right up to their respective financial deaths. And yesterday one of them 'erroneously' downrated France. Hmm, reliable these ratings then. Anyway, a second austerity plan in two months (still judged insufficient by the EC) resulted in a two per cent rise in lower rate VAT, a bringing forward by a year of the increase in retirement age and linking some social security payments to growth rather than inflation. Economic 'experts' in France and Europe are full of doom and gloom, but then not so long ago most of the same experts were forecasting full recovery by next year…

Elsewhere, belt-loosening is more in the news. A top hotel in Lille has been exposed as the centre of a prostitution ring, with the hotel manager and a high-up policeman among the chief suspects for running it. And another name heavily linked to the affair is none other than Dominic Strauss-Kahn, the man with seemingly the biggest libido in France. Texts from him have been found on the phone of a local businessman also involved in the whole business talking about parties and 'young ladies' in Lille, Barcelona and New York.

Another policeman in trouble is the former number two in the Lyon Police Judiciare (rough equivalent of the CID), who is in prison while under investigation for corruption and links to organised crime. The man once fêted as Lyon's top crime-busting cop allegedly used drugs seized by the police to keep a supposed informer sweet, supplied copies of police files  to, and accepted expensive holidays from, individuals known to be part of Lyon's criminal underworld…

Winning wine, warm wind

A warm southerly blew in a mild autumn weekend during which we welcomed more visitors. TwoJay arrived on Friday afternoon for baby viewing and wine tasting purposes. They both quickly made friends with la petite before la bienheureuse got home from work and the epicurean weekend got off to a good start with roast lamb, tarte aux framboises and Chateauneuf-du-Pape. And a little whisky supping for the seasoned and foolhardy later in the evening.

Next morning, once hangovers were sufficiently suppressed with croissants and copious cups of tea, the advance party set off for the main event of the weekend, the Salon des Vins. While JonEboy, Crystal Tipps and stay-at-home papa set about the wine tasting with gusto, la bienheureuse et la petite followed in their own time and had lunch accompanied by clear liquid before any of the red, white or sparkling varieties were tested. In a perfectly conceived and executed operation, papa then handed over the wine tasting and purchasing duties to sa femme and took le bébé home again for her lunchtime nap. Ulterior motive was of course a certain football match on TV. And what a match it was - the Russian mafia funded blue mercenaries blasted into submission by the superior firepower of the red and white Dutch cannon.

Smoked salmon & prawn cream bake followed by filet mignon cooked in milk was on the menu in the evening, followed by la bienheureuse's signature dish. The pork main dish was suitably complemented by La Truffière, and the entrée and dessert by Gewurztraminer. No digestifs and earlier bedtime meant clearer heads the next morning. J+J finished off their trip with a visit to Les Halles, with chocolate and cheese on the shopping list. With luggage allowance filled by wine, there was no room for the latter in the suitcase, but it made a very nice lunch before they headed off to the airport at the end of a very convivial weekend.

The mild weather continues into November, and Toussaint means a four day weekend for la travailleuse, lengthened to five so that she take can advantage of a welcome-baby gift tomorrow with a much-needed massage. Not much extra rest though, as the clock change means a little voice chirps a welcome to the new day an hour earlier each morning…