Since I haven’t done a ton of blogging, which I must say I am quite sad about, I have decided to try to combine as many small stories as I can into one post. Are you ready? Here I go….
Just about every person I had met upon arriving to the village asked me if I had seen Marcoles’s castle. I would have never thought a village as small as this one could even have a castle… but apparently we do. They kept telling the the general location of it, which I didn’t understand because at the time had not thoroughly explored the village. So. One beautifully sunny day, I decided to go on an adventurous scavenger hunt (as I decided in my child-like mind it would be terrifyingly exciting.) I put on my jacket and shoes, grabbed my purse and first went to the restaurant to have a bite to eat with the rest of the staff. Then I was off. I walked farther down past the Inn and found the supermarket they said it was near (I also didn’t know we had a supermarket. We do…). To the left of the supermarket was a long, tree-lined, gravel drive way with a open white gate at the entrance. I looked down it and saw an old looking mansion with lots of windows. I decided this was probably it. I started down the driveway and to my left was an open plot of land. Further down, stood two beautiful black horses. As I neared the building, the driveway split off continuing straight and starting a new path to the right. On a tree standing in the crook of the split was a sign posted “propriété privée” (private property). I wasn’t all together sure whether or not the sign was meant for the castle or the property that split off from the straight path, so I decided to continue further straight, but with caution. As I neared the castle, there was a small bridge in front of me. After it, the path continued straight only a bit further before turning into a large, circular driveway. I stood, staring. The “castle” (more like a very large mansion, but still quite nice for a small village) was positioned straight in front of me. I felt exactly like Elizabeth Bennet and decided that I had to complete this picture. I pulled out my iPod and headphones and put on the soundtrack to Pride and Prejudice (I know… I’m weird and such a girl, but it made the experience even more real). From where I stood before the bridge, the driveway split into two smaller paths to the right and the left, both leading into woods. I had remembered Lorraine saying that I had to go right because it was forbidden to go left and walk the grounds of the castle. I went right and followed the trail into beautiful, lush, green woods. I later saw that the bridge was over a fairly large pond. I stopped to take it all in. It was enchantingly gorgeous. I felt as if I had stepped back in time and was spending my days walking, reading books, and taking in the beauty of nature.
Lou, le pas méchant loup — Lou, the not bad wolf
Line’s class put on a small production at the village theatre (very small, but adorable). I decided to change out of my jeans for the night into something nicer. I asked Line if she wanted me to wear a dress and she eagerly said yes. She sat down on my bed with me and picked one out. After I put it on and paired it with a pair of tights and a cardigan, she stared at me in awe and giggled. She then ran over to me and tackled my leg in a hug. I picked her up and hugged her tight. She told me I looked beautiful and said she loved me. For a 5 year old girl who hadn’t been very good at respecting me for being the authorative nanny, this was pretty darn special to me…
Unfortunately I didn’t remember to grab my phone, so I don’t have pictures of the production, but it was fantastic. 🙂
The Unexpected Suprise
***WARNING!!!!! This story may contain pictures that could provoke the desire to vomit…***
Some evenings, if Renaud gets home early, he asks me to come back to the restaurant with him to help with making desserts or some other dish. This particular night, we were making delicious cups of cream passionfruit juice with a chocolate crunch mixture in the bottom and chocolate straws on top for decoration. Before we started, he gasped and informed me, “I have duck!!” I was very confused as to why this was so important… You’re a chef. Shouldn’t you have lots of types of meat? Still puzzled, I followed the excited man to the freezer where he opened it. As the cold rush of air hit me, I stood there, speechless, my eyes huge, and my stomach in knots almost ready to push everything it had inside it out of my mouth. In front of me were tons of ducks. Full bodies, naked, but some still containing a couple small feathers, and bloody from being plucked and killed. They’re little necks hung broken from strings above them and their blue eyes (yes ducks have blue eyes… believe me. I would know. I am now haunted for life.) stared at me, still in their skull… Renaud laughed as he looked at my white face that contained shock and horror. I turned and walked away slightly laughing. “You have ducks…” I stated. “You have actual ducks…” We both laughed it off and got ready to work. Still… I went to bed that night afraid they were going to come out of the freezer looking for me to kill me.
And lastly…on a more happy note…
The Discovery of My Singing
Last night, while getting the girls ready for bed, Line was reciting the alphabet in French and then began singing it. When she finished, she asked me what the alphabet was in English. I recited each letter, waited for her to repeat, and then sang it after. She smile and laughed, not ever hearing me sing, and asked me to sing it again. I sang as we walked to their room for them to get in bed. We talked for a couple minutes and then Line asked for the alphabet once more. “The alphabet!?” I laughed. “No.” She said. “Une autre chanson!” Another song, she requested. I smiled and said okay. I turned the light off and tucked them in, sat on the end of her bed and then began singing vaious lullabies that I could remember my mom singing to me during my childhood. By the way mom, “Hush Little Baby Don’t Say A Word” exists in French, but it’s very different. Line tried to sing a little of it and it was things like buying chocolate. Anyway, after each song, she requested another. After three or four, I told her it was time to go to sleep. As I got up and tucked her covers once more, she asked me what ‘I love you’ was in English. I told her and she repeated it back. “I love you, Ana.” My heart MELTED!!! Ah, I couldn’t believe it. There’s something about nannying for girls that don’t speak any English and then when they are able to say ‘I love you’ in your own language…it’s just… ahh… So worthwhile. I told her I loved her too, cranked their music box, and exited the room, feeling wonderful and bubbly. Many more lullabies are coming, and God’s Word will start to slowly be introduced through song. 🙂