We have honed our Paris weekends away so they are as ritualised as our London ones. Rose Bakery, felafel in the Marais, APC-and-Merci-Merci (chant it), Shakespeare and Co, a steak place, an oyster place, a token new place. It is not boring to us to repeat this! Over and over again! But this time we had a plus one. We got to have Rose Bakery and felafel, but no steak. Oysters we had at Bones, before rushing Sunday back for bed. She danced at Le Comptoir Generale. We fed her next to a tomb in Père Lachaise. Having her with us made it more fun, not less.
On the train I read Bringing Up Bébé: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting. Interesting! Now I’ve started Jennifer Senior’s All Joy and No Fun. They’re both anthropological deep dives with a light touch.
Two months to go. Things are starting to take shape. That chair is in the baby’s room – it cost £26 on eBay, and is exactly the colour of a Virago Modern Classic. Children’s books – a mix of our old ones, Oxfam spoils and presents. We haven’t bought her any clothes or, like, nappies yet but if she ever wants to peruse a slim volume quietly on her own, we have her covered.
Summer solstice has come and gone. There has not been a single week I’ve not worn my Barbour jacket. Often – I try not to look at this too often as it’s so depressing – the daytime temperature here is the same here as it is in winter Sydney. Still, it was nice weather for Jude’s birthday BBQ (that was the occasion for the new decorations you can see in the garden). And one thing about England is that the flowers, flowers, flowers are so beautiful and seem to need no attention at all.
An odd side effect of being pregnant is that I can only hold one thought in my mind at a time. It’s not how I’d want to be forever. But for now… people would pay good money for a drug like this.
(It’s true.) But here are some of the nice days.
Blossoms outside Violet, London Fields, the canal, Victoria Park, weeds, listening to the Cazalet Chronicles on audiobook.