In france and breadless? Shut the front door.
Well, yes. In the interest of keeping the door shut, keeping us inside and warm for as much of the day as possible, I am not going out to get bread today. The bread here is amazing when fresh and better used as weaponry when it’s stale, so we never stock up. And it’s Thursday so our closest baker is shut anyway.
Between the cold weather and the cold virus, the couch is the best place to be.
I have Louis, feverish and teething, on the sofa, watching Veggietales, and Elena squealing at her banana happily, making a mess and lots of adorable facial expressions, and I am quite happy to stay home… if a little hungry. Yesterday’s soup is reheating in the microwave.
Creamy mushroom mmm.
Since I haven’t gone anywhere in days there isn’t much to talk about – except food. It’s been a baking week. And Louis won’t eat any of it. Visitors are my only hope, or there goes the newly discovered waistline.
Therein lies the newly discovered waistline (not a new jacket though… I’m waiting for the third wave of price cuts in the sales – 80% off some stuff!)
Lots of helpers for the chocolate cream cheese cupcakes.
On the plus side, I’ve been making soup nearly every day. But soup without bread..? It’s a hard knock life.
This happens rather regularly – a day when I’m out of bread and don’t want to go out to get some – and I’ve noticed a few things:
– bread attracts bad company. Principally: cheese. Not that cheese is bad but, oh alright, if you’re counting calories it is bad.
– bread jumps the queue. If I have bread, ready and waiting to be toasted or turned into a sandwich, then I use it. I don’t even consider other breakfast or lunch options.
– bread is filling, but not for long. I need to have some protein or loads of veggies with it in order to stay full all afternoon.
So, in theory, going without bread for a day or two occasionally is probably an excellent idea. But in practise, the kitchen is a mess and I’m living on apple, yogurt and coffee rather than cleaning a space to make something substantial.
Fortunately someone else is cooking tonight. We are going to friends’ place for dinner! This has happened maybe thrice in the last year, hence the exclamation point. Hopefully the kids eat and then sleep (we’re taking our handy dandy porta-cots for this very purpose). Louis seems better than he was earlier and his temperature has gone down. Fingers crossed they’ll sleep through my French lesson this afternoon as well!
ps. Louis did both. And Elena neither, but she slept while we were getting ready to go out. It was go-go-go, but on the train I managed to do the day’s ‘small stone’ on a memo on my phone:
The RER B train rattling south of a Thursday evening is cozy rather than busy – warmer and lighter inside than beyond its scratched windows. People read or talk or watch the half light racing past, the street lamps and unshuttered windows, silhouetted offices and shadowy station platforms. A woman, with fur hood thrown back and giant white headphones crowning tight braids, glares at her cellphone. A baby dwarfed by snowsuit studies the stripy scarfed man reading ‘le parisien’.
We had a lovely evening with our friends – a delicious peruvian meal and great conversation! And Luuk drove directly from work so he drove us all home. Much as the train surprised me with its very civilized and almost library-like atmosphere, the car suited the sleeping babies and dozy-me even better.