Author: Andy Smallman

As Melinda says, “Let’s get fired up! Let’s get fired up! Let’s get fired up! Hey!!” Fired up for what? Cleaning, of course. There is nothing more fun than cleaning, right?! I just finished scrubbing the third of three toilets, taking time out to post to the blog. Moving to the office, I caught Melinda mopping the kitchen floor. Of all the things to get caught at, I bet mopping the floor is not near the top of anyone’s list.

So why this blast of domesticity? Well, tomorrow morning our landlord, Madame Fieni, is dropping by. She and her husband (and teenage daughter) are on sabbatical in California this year, but Madame Fieni is back in Nantes for a week or so. She needs to swing by the house to pick up a few things. And we thought it would be nice if the house looked presentable for her. Hmm, come to think of it, “presentable” may be an optimistic word. “Recognizable” is probably more apt. You see, we think Madame Fieni is a better housekeeper than Melinda and me. Combined. With one hand tied behind her back.

So anyway, we’ve been cleaning for several hours, well, since we got home from Manon’s volleyball tournament (they finished second). That would be for about 3 1/2 hours. That’s 7 hours of labor plus whatever time Chloe and Ella contributed before moving on to do homework. Funny, their homework became much more appealing once the cleaning supplies came out. I wonder if there is a parenting tip in there somewhere…

Yes, I know I’m posting late today and I apologize to anyone who has had her/his schedule thrown off because of it. Months ago my mother-in-law told me she became worried if I didn’t post to the blog by a certain hour. Since then I’ve tried to be timely, thinking others may worry, too. In truth, I’m sure she is the only one.

I am pleased to report that Laurent accompanied me to tonight’s hockey playoff game (today’s photo was taken between the second & third periods near the concession stand, where we had ventured to buy a beer). Melinda and Frédérique opted instead to go to Ikea, a decision that I think will be flagged at Canadian customs should either try to visit Canada any time in the future. I tried to warn them, but Ikea still won out. In terms of the game, it was a good one. Nantes scored 22 seconds in and was the better team throughout, but had to settle for a 5-5 tie. Now you North American hockey purists will be asking how a playoff hockey game can end in a tie, maybe even lamenting the fact that I was denied sudden death overtime (one of the greatest expressions in sports parlance). But in the Quarter Finals here in France it’s a two games series, with the team with the most goals after the two games moving on. So tonight it was Game One and a 5-5 tie, the old “kissing your sister” result.

Of great entertainment was the announcement of the Stars of the Game. Moments after the game ended, the teams each lined up on their respective bluelines and the *best* player from each team was announced. As it was made, a young woman walked out on the ice to present awards to each player for being chosen. What do you think the award was? Remember, we’re in France… A bottle of wine, of course.

Let’ see. There have been a lot of these, I think, and by that I mean a lot of really significant projects on which Melinda and I have collaborated over the years. I’ll start by mentioning the project known as Chloe. Unveiled in 1993, this project turned 18 recently (as you know) and will be attending Quest University in British Columbia, Canada this fall.

Soon after Chloe came the project known as Puget Sound Community School. Unveiled in 1994, PSCS is the most brilliant middle & high school on the planet, the school you wish you attended when you were a teen.

In 1996 we unveiled another of our projects, this one known as Ella. This project is extremely kind-hearted and has an affinity for fan fiction, as I mentioned yesterday, Glee, and Taylor Swift. Were these things in the project blueprints? No matter.

And in 2011 Melinda are about to unveil our latest project, No, no, she’s not pregnant! Geez. We are collaborating on expanding and hopefully monetizing all the online kindness class work I’ve done over the years. As she did with the projects mentioned above, Melinda named this new one, calling it Kind Living (with the tagline “Enhance Your Day”). Today’s photo is of her hard at work at one possible website design and template for an email that will be sent in the next day or so (sign up here to get the email). I write the content. Melinda makes it look pretty.

Was that the formula for Chloe and Ella, too?

That’s the first line Ella has to perform tomorrow in a very short school play in her French class (which is like an English class in the US, you know). Partners were chosen and each duo wrote their own script. Ella’s teacher both wisely and generously allowed her to be part of a three-person team, understanding that the exercise was a little over her head. So Ella’s two partners wrote the script and included three lines for her to memorize and recite. They were rehearsing today.

So just what is Ella saying? Well, if I understand it correctly, this first line means, “What’s going on here?” To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s happening in their play (making this line quite apt for me to say, perhaps). I think it may have something to do with a handbag or a wallet or a purse or something. Apparently Ella’s character doesn’t think much of this item as her second line is, “Cette pochette ridicule.” (This bag is ridiculous.) But her best line is the last one, which she is supposed to deliver with an angry tone. She says, “Il y a des choses inutiles et imbécile, comme vous!” (It is something useless and stupid, like you!).

In the foreground of today’s photo is the handwritten script tucked neatly in Ella’s school binder. She looked up from reading Harry Potter fan fiction (or something like it) on her iPad for me to snap this picture.

In my sports experience, there is nothing like it. I encourage you to visit Canada and say these two words, “Playoff Hockey” and judge the results for yourself. At its finest, for me hockey is the most entertaining sport to watch. It’s fast and hard-hitting, yes, but it requires grace and coordination, too. And the playing surface is small enough to easily see all of the action. As I said when I was a kid, “Hockey is my favorite sport.”

As I mentioned way back in early October, I was literally stunned to learn that Nantes has an ice hockey team. I just did not expect to find this in France, let alone four tram stops from our house. We missed their first playoff game last Saturday, a game in which the Nantes team, the Corsaires, won 7-1. Now they are in the second round, with their next game scheduled for Saturday night. I fully intend to be there.

Today’s photo is of the sign outside the arena promoting Saturday night’s game. The opponent is Annecy, a town in the French Alps (and a possible site for the 2018 Winter Olympics). Had I known we were so close last week, I might have suggested a scouting trip…

“Printemps” is French for spring. And walking home from taking Ella to school this morning, I spotted some workers prettying up the round-about near our tram stop, less than 350 steps from our front door (remember, I have a pedometer). I know it’s hard to see them with this cell phone quality photo, but click on it to see a bigger version. Anyway, I’ve seen flowers planted in all sorts of public places around town. This is serious work, as I think it is in any city. But somehow it seems higher on the To-do list in Nantes than in Seattle. Maybe I just have the time to notice it more?

And, yes, that’s my beloved Ligne 2 (Line 2) of the tram heading toward our stop. Reviewing this picture I started thinking, “If Ligne 2 was a woman I’d ask her to marry me.” Then I thought, “Wait a second, I’m already married!” Then I saw the men planting flowers and thought, “That’s right, it’s spring, the season of romance,” and realized that I was just letting the longer days and warmer temperatures carry me away. I forgave myself, but made a mental note that perhaps I should be getting some flowers for Melinda.

Yes, so I’ve been hinting at this incredible dinner we had with the Boudeaus last Tuesday night, the one in which to get to the restaurant we had to put Romain and Manon in the back of the magic car, the Boudeau taxi. Earlier in the day, Laurent and Frédérique pointed out the restaurant to Melinda, Chloe and Ella from high above it, on the ski slopes. Location-wise, it’s about halfway between Les Carroz and Flaine, kind of out in the middle of nowhere, although there is a ski lift next to it and you can ski through a tunnel under the road right by it, too. The restaurant is called Chalet Les Molliets and their speciality is cheese.

Chloe and Ella ordered what I would call traditional fondue. They were served a huge basket of bite-sized pieces of bread and plates filled with thinly sliced meat. Then a big pot of bubbling hot cheese was delivered and placed in front of them. They would dip the bread in the melted cheese, transfer it to their plates and then mix in the meats as they desired. Laurent, Frédérique, Melinda and I all ordered the same thing, the name of which I cannot remember. It involved having a HUGE bowl of cooked potatoes delivered, along with plates filled with thinly sliced meats and trays of cheese. A massive burning hot metal device was placed in front of us on our table, a cheese tray fitting perfectly in a slot on its side, one at a time. So we’d take turns melting a layer of cheese on our trays and then pouring it on our potatoes, meats and bread. As the meal ensued, we got warmer (it gets hot in the restaurant with all these burning hot cheese melters on people’s tables) and fuller.

Today’s photo features the raclette cheese and its heater, what was ordered by Manon and Romain. That’s the heating element on the right on the cheese, momentarily moved slightly away from the heater so Romain can slide some melted cheese onto his plate, on the left.

I’m getting hungry just thinking about it, and am imagining the horror on my brother’s face when he reads this post. Funny, I feel a strange satisfaction considering both of these things.

It’s funny for us to realize that returning to our Nantes house after two weeks away feels like coming home. In fact, it is EXACTLY like coming home. But it’s odd, considering our real home is in Seattle. Yet here we are feeling so much at home in Nantes, both in the city and in our house.

For instance, it felt great to sleep in own our beds last night. Everyone knows how comfortable this is, returning to one’s own bed, what with everything about it being so familiar. It’s one of the great things about vacations, and on both sides of them. On vacation you get the wonderful newness and change of pace. And then back home you get the comfort of familiarity. Similarly, Melinda and I hopped on the tram this morning to ride into town. I got a little giddy hearing the familiar recorded voice call out the stops. Silly, I know.

What is also interesting when returning home after being away is to see the changes made. Life goes on without you, it turns out. In our case, the facelift of our neighborhood grocery store continues. The big change is the black paint and the gray posts, adding to the elegance of the new entry. We are curious to see what will be attached to those vertical studs pointing to the sky on the left side of the photo.

Hmmm… I wonder what it will be like to go home to Seattle in July. I wonder what it will be like to sleep in our Seattle beds. I wonder what changes will have been made in our absence. But I don’t want to think too much about that. There is too much living yet to do here at home in Nantes!

This photo is from Tuesday night when the 8 of us went out for the cheese-related dinner I mentioned before (and of which I still plan to post a picture here – perhaps next week). The title of today’s post refers to two things, the fact that all 8 of us all fit into the Boudeau’s car that night (see the picture for a little story about HOW we all fit into the Boudeau’s car), and the fact that on the day we arrived in France last July, with all of ours huge bags, we managed to fit everyone and our bags in two cars, mostly because the car in today’s picture is the MAGIC CAR (la voiture magique).

Actually, la voiture magique has another name, le Taxi Boudeau being the other. This has to do with all the times Laurent has schlepped us around. For instance, when we arrived in Les Carroz last Saturday, Laurent met us at the bus stop. He pulled up on the curb to pick up us and our bags, hopped out of the car and exclaimed, “Taxi Boudeau!” A police officer heard this exclamation and came over to inquire about Laurent’s status as a taxi driver, given his car is not so marked. Laurent had to do some fast-talking.

So, yes, the car is both magic (think Hermione’s bag in the recent Harry Potter movie) and a taxi. But the magic all stems from the quality of the Boudeaus as a family. Just look at the big smiles on Manon’s and Romain’s faces, only too happy to be crammed in the back of the car. The big question Laurent and I had upon our return to the Les Carroz apartment on Tuesday night was whether or not we should let them out again. They looked so happy back there.

You’d think Manon’s aim might be a little better than this, given Laurent’s point-blank status. Clearly, that snowball is going to miss him. Instead, though, I am attributing this to Laurent’s super-fast fatherly reflexes, his left hand deftly coming up to knock Manon’s throwing arm off-target. We fathers do need to stick together, hence the credit going to Laurent (besides, Manon needs an excuse).

This photo was taken at lunchtime today during a break from the gang’s final day of skiing. Melinda and Ella departed early, heading back to Les Carroz to meet up with me. That left Chloe, Manon, Frédérique and Laurent to fend for themselves, and the fending involved a snowball fight. From what I’ve gathered, Laurent was a common target throughout the week and rarely, if ever, retaliated. There is another photo from a few days ago in which he is sitting quietly eating his lunch, snowballs raining down upon him. So in paragraph one above I imply he has something akin to black belt status. And in this paragraph I am suggesting he has the patience and concentration of a Shaolin monk.

Switching gears, I’m writing inside the apartment an hour or so before our last dinner in Les Carroz. Manon and Frédérique are folding sheets. Laurent and Melinda are transferring photos from the Boudeau’s camera to Melinda’s computer so we can have them for our family archive. Ella is packing and Chloe is taking a shower. It’s that melancholic time in which you know your vacation is just about over. Before you is the packing and cleaning, and, hopefully, one more little blast of vacation fun, a bonus, if you’ve planned well.

Our bonus begins shortly with the apéritif, courtesy of Laurent. It involves saucisson and red wine. Ah…