French Chateaus

We eventually arrived in France on Thursday (after waiting in line for three hours to check in at the Air France counter in Montreal).

We went straight from the airport to Versailles:



We skipped the interior and focused on the gardens. I was a bit surprised to see that none of the flowers were planted yet. I expected spring bulbs.

The drive from Versailles to our rental house was supposed to take about 40 minutes. Let's skip over the gory details and just say that the A86 was designed by Satan, shall we? Not my finest navigating moment. But we eventually found the house, although not in time to buy towels. (The rental contract for this house was all in French, so we missed that we needed to bring our own.)

Due to arriving in France five days late, we had to scrap most of what we wanted to see that first week, including Paris. We ended up focusing on chateaus.

On Friday, we visited Vaux-le-Vicomte, a chateau so elaborate that a jealous Louis XIV imprisoned the owner for life and seized the property.



Visitors at least 10 years old get to climb up to the dome:



And the stonework is rife with Italian fence lizards. Each boy stalked his own.



Saturday morning we had to pack up again and drive to our next rental. We visited Fontainebleau on the way.

The kids were amazed by this fountain. It doesn't show up well in the picture, but the dogs are all peeing. (You can buy a full-size replica of the dog in the gift shop, to bring a touch of France home to your garden.)



Napoleon bid farewell to France from the top of this staircase.



Interesting tidbit from the audio guide: French queens were required to give birth in public to prove the child was legitimate. Barbaric and nonsensical.

Canada

I had never considered Ottawa as a vacation destination, but there was quite a bit to do.

This picture was taken outside the Museum of Civilization, with the Houses of Parliament in the background.



All the museums were closed on Monday, so we drove to Parc Omega. We followed the suggestion to buy one bag of carrots each and then set off into the park.

You feed the larger animals from the car:



But you can feed the deer on foot:





We also visited the Museum of Science and Technology, where I was most impressed with the flawless way the presenters switched from French to English and back in the same session, and the Museum of Nature. The dinosaur floor was a huge hit:

When You Can't Go to France, Go to Ottawa

(Note: I tried to post this from our hotel room in Ottawa, and just realized the posting attempt failed.)

Once our Friday-night flight was officially canceled, Michael and I spent about an hour on hold with Air France. End result? We now have tickets to fly on Wednesday evening.



My plan was to stay home and get stuff done until Wednesday. Michael didn't think much of that plan, so he made reservations at a hotel in downtown Ottawa.



We drove up Saturday. We're closer to the Montreal airport than we were at home, and in the meantime, we can keep busy having fun instead of sitting at home feeling sorry for ourselves. It's working so well that I find myself with surprisingly mixed feelings about our chances of getting to France later this week. (Partly this is due to dreading a trans-Atlantic flight with a 4-year-old once the initial excitement of going on vacation has worn off a bit.)



Ottawa is a charming small city. Saturday night we walked up to the Houses of Parliament. The kids liked the rabbit we saw hopping around on the yard, and the unicorn and lion statues. The grounds of Parliament and the nearby park have thousands of tulips that are almost ready to bloom. In another week or two it will be absolutely beautiful.



We also found the Byward Market area, which has many small ethnic eateries. Because we arrived right as most places were closing, we ended up eating Chinese, but not the typical Chinese food we can get in the Valley. The twins shared a huge seafood soup, and the rest of us had pork and thick noodles. And then we discovered beaver tails, a Canadian version of the fair food we called elephant ears in Oregon. The Canadians are more inventive with the toppings. My favorite so far is maple icing, but they have all been good.



Sunday morning, we returned to Byward Market to eat breakfast at the French bakery. Obama ate here once, and there are pictures of him all over the place.



We spent the bulk of the day at the Museum of Civilization. Did you know the Tsimshian people thought that humans and fish share the same group of souls? When you die as a human, your soul returns as a fish so you can help feed the current humans. The totem poles on display were impressive. There was also an interesting exhibit of artifacts from Afghanistan, but LW dragged me through that pretty fast. (He was eager to get to the IMAX movie.)



We find reminders of France everywhere, from the numerous French bakeries to the out-of-business Made in France store to the French embassy to the bilingual signs. These sightings sting a bit, but the pain is easing somewhat.

How I Became Obsessed with a Volcano in Iceland

Not so much the volcano itself, actually, as the big ash cloud it created over the airspace between here and France.

Our flight for tonight is not officially canceled, but it's also not showing up on Air France's web site.

LW removed the last paper on the count-down calendar this morning. It was rather sad.

I will be shocked if our flight leaves tonight, and yet I still feel compelled to do all the last-minute tasks so we are ready in case a miracle happens.

I'm trying to remind myself that this is not a big problem, in the grand scheme of things. We have our health. We have our family. I have a good job. The inn is doing well. It feels pretty selfish to be so disappointed over a missed vacation.

And yet I'm finding it hard not to cry.

Packing

Today I finally started packing for France in earnest.

I dreamed last night that we arrived in France with no toiletries and, more importantly, no shirts for me or the three younger kids. I decided to pack so my subconscious won't bother me tonight.

The three older kids can pretty much pack for themselves, although they need a bit of guidance about clothes and a lot of reminding about no liquids in the carry-ons. Yes, contact solution counts and so does glasses cleaner!

The hardest thing about packing is making sure that all the kids have seven days of photograph-appropriate clothes. My kids are hard on clothes, and for the sake of sanity and budget I have long since stopped stressing about holes in the knees or paint stains. But clothes that look passable in rural life somehow look rattier in pictures. (This is one of the hidden costs of our trips.)

This year, what with work and Easter and Michael's trip to Costa Rica and our unexpectedly large tax bill, I didn't do as much shopping. Maybe we'll take lots of head shots.

Attention, Telemarketers

When I tell you that I'm not interested, "But you can't be not interested! You haven't seen our product yet" is not an appropriate response.

Slightly Skewed Work Estimates

Spring has arrived here in the Valley, at least temporarily. Yesterday, while I was digging rocks out of the ground in preparation for reseeding the back lawn (a casualty of the construction process last summer), the younger kids were exploring the woods for the first time this year.

IM came back all fired up with plans to build a bridge out to the island in the river. (In the summer, the kids can wade to it, but the river is far too wild in the spring.) Digging rocks was "too hard" but carrying concrete blocks down to the edge of the property and rigging them up on supports? That we could easily do. And should do. Immediately.

This is not the first time our kids have come up with hare-brained schemes that they are convinced are less work than the chores we assign them.

I think LW is the only child who hasn't yet suggested that building a room-cleaning robot would be easier than picking up the room.

But the classic case in our family comes from EM, when, at the age of three, he managed to lock the bathroom door on his way out of the bathroom. Given that the upstairs toilet was not always reliable, there was a certain urgency and stress involved in coming up with the solution. As Michael and I debated various lock-picking strategies, EM grinned. "I know! We can build a robot that will flatten itself, slide under the door, and open it from the other side! That will be best."

Is it any wonder that as adults we underestimate construction projects?