Slacking....

Yes, the blog has been a bit slow lately. I've been on strike. Still waiting for Erik to write about his trip to the rugby game.

However, I realize that I might be fighting a losing battle, and I do really like blogging, things have just been a bit quiet around here lately. So, in honour of Sunday afternoons, here's a mishmash of the goings on of our lives lately...

Thursday was the start of the lovely transit strike here in France. The big train unions are fighting changes to their pension plans that the government is proposing. This meant that as of Thursday morning, all trains, buses and trams were to be severely perturbe-d, or quasi nul. Teachers at school were predicting that all metro stations would be completely closed, but lo and behold, on Wednesday night I discovered that certain lines would have limited service, including one of the ones I use on Thursdays. So, I set out 30 minutes earlier than usual on Thursday morning to try and catch the line 6 to Passy. The train came after a brief wait on the platform, and was emptier than usual. The walk from Passy to school is a window shoppers treat, and only 15 minutes to boot, so I was feeling pretty positive about things by the time I got to work (early).

The way home was another story.

The walk to Passy was less fun after a day on my feet. After waiting for 20 minutes, a train pulls into the station, absolutely packed. People are crammed into the cars with their cheeks glued to the windows. I think only three people got off, and I certainly couldn't get on. The line 6 is above ground from Passy almost all the way to Montparnasse, so I set out to the next station, hoping that more people would be getting off at that station by the time the next train came. After 15 minutes on the platform at Bir Hakeim (about 25 minutes since that last train), I finally decided it was time to start walking. I walked under the train tracks all the way to Cambronne before finding a Velib station, only to choose a bike with a broken chain (mental note--check chain before taking next bike). You have to wait about five minutes between returning a bike and renting a new one, and I was pretty cranky by this point, so I just kept walking. The next Velib station was only two metro stops before Montparnasse, and there was only one bike, which I snapped up quicker than you can say 'stupid train strike'. Ten minutes later I was at home drinking kir royale (I have a great husband :) ).

Two hours of walking, however, and I still like France. Service was perturbe-d all weekend, and Erik had to work from home both Thursday and Friday, but I think things are finally back to normal.

Now isn't this exciting stuff?

What else...

Rugby. In case you didn't know, France came in fourth, they lost a second time to Argentina on Friday night. The final between England and South Africa was Saturday, and although I watched the. entire. game. I have to say that the most entertaining parts were at the very end. The shots of the guy engraving South Africa onto the cup. No pressure there. The kid who threw a temper tantrum while walking the cup out onto the field. Classic. He'll love that footage when he's 16. And then, after all that, the freshly engraved base FALLS OFF the cup. More than once. It doesn't get much better than that.

Gymming. I've turned my obsession into a potential fourth job. I've been teaching classes with another instructor every weekend for the past month or so, and taught all by my lonesome a couple of weeks ago. In French, thank you very much. You'll be relieved to know that a grapevine in French is, wait for it, grapevine. Step touch, yup, still a step touch (although I try and say it more like steep tooch). Jumping jacks? Just call 'em jacks over here. It's not too tough, although I'm still not super keen on hearing my accent over the mic. This coming weekend I'm going to a BodyPump formation, which is one of the classes I've been teaching.

And then, I'm on vacation for ten days. Because god forbid I should work more than six weeks without some time off. I know, la vie est dur. And because French kids spend too much time in school, its been decided that as of next year, they won't be going to school on Saturdays anymore. They'll have to make up the time somehow, but people don't seem to keen to give up their Wednesdays off. Heck, I'd give up a free Wednesday if the alternative was less vacation time. But I don't get Wednesdays off, so I guess what I want doesn't really matter.

There. I think I've written enough about nothing.

Now it's your turn. If I can do it, so can you. Drop us a line and let us know how you're doing.

:)

ps. No, I didn't make a pumpkin pie. It's still on the 'must bake' list, but I haven't found any pumpkin yet. I did make cinnamon buns this morning (well, it was 5:00pm by the time they were finally finished) and Erik and I ate half of the pan. We were pretty sure we could finish the entire thing, but apparently we have some kind of self control.

We're still here! I know it's been awhile, but the most exciting thing that has happened in the past couple of weeks is the rugby game that Erik went to see, and so the pressure's on him to write about that.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! No turkey for us, although maybe I'll see if I can make a pumpkin pie...