Ville-Dieu-du-Temple, September 2013
Work is going well. The kids are so damn sweet but so damn difficult. Today I spent about an hour telling one of them to draw stuff and he would just go draw it then show me and be like ‘NEXT!’. He was so proud of his drawings too. Other stuff is coming together nicely too. I honestly wonder how I will keep up university, work, my relationship, my social schedule and the housework…
I will take a camera with me to work soon and hopefully the kids won’t break it. In the meantime, I went to the south for my boyfriend’s brother’s 40th this weekend so I have some photos from that to upload!!
Well…I’m glad I made the decision about having milky coffees for breakfast, and then proceeded to make a really long and boring post on it…it turned out to be very popular. Maybe milky coffee will be the thing I’ll be famous for. Thankyou tumblr for bringing together people with strange tastes and interests.
Almond milk mocha
Breakfast has become somewhat tricky since moving to France. I’ve not managed to settle into any sort of routine. When I was with the host family it was somewhat simple, because cost didn’t matter and there wasn’t much choice…yes technically if I wanted something different I could ask the host mum to buy it for me, but I felt awkward and guilty, so I would just eat kid’s cereal or toast with butter or jam, and there would always be nice fruit juce and nice fruit too.
Since moving in with my boyfriend it has become a lot more difficult. Frstly, the almond milk sucks in France. All the brands I’ve tried are really thick and sweet, unlike the blue diamond stuff which is quite mild in flavour, isn’t sweetened and has the same consistency as milk. Secondly, fruit is expensive (I did try doing smoothies for a while but the cost was phenomenal and you can’t get kale in France..) and thirdly, I want it to be substantial. Somehow I am finding it really hard to fulfill my breakfast requirements in a practical, easy way and within a budget.
I might have a solution. I think I’ll go french.
This weekend my boyfriend and I purchased a new espresso maker to replace his broken senseo coffee machine. We both love our new coffee machine and of course, it has a milk steamer. So I might start making myself big cups of milky coffee every mornng, and eating it with tartines, bits of bread with stuff spread on them (in England I would go for peanut butter but of course that is super expensive here so I think it will be nutella, jam or marmite). The hot milk makes it much more satisfying than regular coffee (which I do enjoy just as much) and if you buy (or make your own) pre-toasted bread bits for the tartines it’s actually pretty cheap. The great thing is that I don’t mind UHT cow’s milk or soya milk when they’re hot (ethically of course I would prefer soya milk but money is a big issue here).
Today I had the gourmand version, an almond milk mocha (I can’t tell if the milk was more airy because I steamed it badly or because of the almond milk…yesterday I used UHT milk) which I ate with mini Madeleines…something I really shouldn’t make a habit of, but they are so good and cheap in french supermarkets!
Uh oh. Looks like I am out of practice. I made this for lunch today, I wanted a tomato salad but we only had stale bread (I love wiping the plate after with bread, it’s delicious) so I just cut it up and mixed it in. Worked quite well. I remember seeing something like that one time in a Jamie Oliver recipe book.
This is my new spot for taking pictures; the window ledge outside…because the appartment is so dark that even in broad daylight and the camera’s ISO set to 800, the picture came out as though it was night time.
I had a trial shift with a new family today, a 4 year old girl and a 6 year old boy. Totally adorable. I was makng jewellery with the little girl and the boy wanted to join in. I was pretty happy about that, and not even in the breaking-gender-stereotype-boundaries kind of way, I was just pleased we would all be sitting together, quietly, enjoying a creative activity. His mum saw and was not so pleased…’What are you doing? That’s for girls! Boys don’t play with jewellery’, she said. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say…how do you tell a woman you only just met 3 days before that she is enforcing a repressive gender stereotype on her children and creating an atmosphere of shame for something as simple and ‘innocent’ (and, let’s face it, beneficial) as a craft. After I helped him with his homework, he wanted to make a bracelet. I wanted him to as well, but I was afraid of the mum viewing it as me going against her rules i.e. boys do boy things and girls do girl things, and I’m still trying to get a job with them so I don’t want to lose brownie points. So I said to him ‘sure, but why don’t you make it as a gift for a girl, maybe your sister or your mum’. Problem solved…kind of. It was great to watch him wearing all the jewellery afterwards.
Photos from Cordes sur Ciel
I almost feel like that first photo needs a trigger warning.
The lady on the left, Martou, was really cool. She pretended to be a bit fragile but in reality she was still really strong. She held her wine better than me.
The one day I took my camera with me to the beach was the one time the sun hid behind a curtain of clouds.
Hello kitty-kat. We called her Minou before we found out that she belonged to our next-door-neighbours. Who the hell takes a cat to a campsite…?
Homemade strawberry ice-cream with homegrown strawberries.
This cost 5 euros…the price of a small punnet or 2 in Paris, sigh.
I have to make a decision between Paris IV, III and VII eeeeekkkkk