Yes, we are still here. It’s just that after three weeks, the boys’ schedules are still crazy, and they are not going to bed early enough, and by the time my me time arrives, I can’t think, and then I don’t get up early enough to write something…I’m hoping being settled here in Paris for a month will change that, but so far, not so good..I am just going to have to have a day where I wake everyone up super early and wear them out so they collapse by 8 or so…that will be a miserable day, but it needs to happen!
As before, pics have no relation to posts, necessarily.
Field trip in Notre Dame.
Roadschooling is going okay. They are keeping up with and way ahead of where their classmates back home are in math, spelling, vocab and English. I hope they are absorbing the history they are encountering – I am attempting to help them bring it all together in their journaling and time-lining, but again, not sure if it is sticking. Most importantly, they are learning about adaptability, how other people live (no, it’s not the interior of Tibet, but it is different in some ways), and…do not be afraid.
Michael played in a park yesterday – this one – and afterwards he said, “Kids kept trying to talk to me, so I just kept saying, ‘Je suis americain! Je suis americain!”” So maybe he’s learning some French…maybe.
Market in Uzes
I am liking Paris so far, but after spending 3 weeks in other parts of France, I do think it’s too bad that most Americans will hold up “Paris” as their primary and maybe only goal in crossing France off their travel list. A week in a small town in a culturally and historically rich section of France (which is any part of France) is going to give you an experience of depth that will probably be less stressful, too. And cheaper.
Roman Arena in Arles
We concentrated on Roman Gaul over the past couple of weeks, and I do think they have learned a lot. And so have I!
For the record: I have witnessed a French child having a meltdown in public at least once a day, in every part of France. There’s one (and it’s not a baby) screaming – literally screaming – on the sidewalk below my apartment window as I write this, at this moment. And French teenagers are just as loud and self-consciously cool in packs (which spill out in the towns and cities during their long lunches) as American teens are – plus they all smoke.
Bell tower of (former) Cathedral in Uzes.
French is indeed a secular country. It’s indeed mission country. (Of course, my view is that the whole human race is mission country – that’s what life on earth is – pilgrimage and mission country – but I say that as a response to Catholics who get insulted when Protestants send “missionaries” to places like France. Even aside from the now-centuries old deeply secular cultural and social mindset and structure of the country, When you have a town of say, 20,000 inhabitants, almost all of whom are “Catholic” by heritage or baptism, and there’s one Mass in town on Sunday at which perhaps 400 people are in attendance…yes, that’s mission country.)
The letter “I” is never long in French, so the French say, “Wee-Fee.” It’s amusing.
Charlotte was Both 