Oh Happy Day!

There are so many things to celebrate today that I’ve copped out and decided to spend this sunny afternoon lolling on the sofa. There’s only so much merry-making I can stomach before I get a panic attack.

First off is La Fête des Pères. We’ve spent the past week at school making Father’s Day cards from cunningly-folded sheets of paper. I was designated to instruct the children on the proper way to do this. The last time I was designated to do crafts with the children, I pyrographed my own arm so I wasn’t hopeful.

Every single child managed to produce a delightful shirt-shape, with a collar and sleeves and everything. I produced a wrinkly sea monster with one leg and an atrophied head. Well, I didn’t put origami on my CV so what do they expect?

Here’s my own lovely dad whom I miss every day. I bet he couldn’t do origami either…

Of course, it's also La Fête de la Musique. I’ve already participated in this: our church gave a Gospel concert on Friday evening in front of the Centre Loisirs et Culture during a mini-hurricane. I was OK with that as I could blame my eerie howling on the wind.

Anyway, I’ve consulted the programme for Grenoble today and nothing takes my fancy so I’m posting a few musical family clips instead.

Here’s Abi rehearsing with her new group:

Here’s Hannah singing at the Celebration of Life for her uncle Ian:

And here’s my dear brother himself, playing one of his own compositions. We all miss you very much, you know…

Finally, it’s Le Solstice d'été - Midsummer’s Day. How does one celebrate that? Well, if pagans are to be believed, I should bathe skyclad beneath the sun, pick a few herbs, drink mead and bathe skyclad (again) beneath the honey moon. If I tried doing that on my balcony, they’d set fire to my car (although I could dance pagan-like around it, I suppose).


Nah. I’ll just enjoy the longest day of the year from my sofa, nightie-clad and drinking tea.

Have a Happy Happy Day!

Eclipsed

Well, the sun was certainly eclipsed today here in Grenoble.

Even if I had managed to drag myself away from my fascinating lesson on the Present Perfect Continuous and nipped outside, I would have seen nothing but mist (oh, ok, smog) obscuring the light.

Far more interesting were the reactions at the Primary school where I also work. The headmistress was inundated with calls from worried parents who wanted reassurance that their children would be kept inside the classrooms with the blinds down during the fateful event. One mother phoned to say her child was so traumatized, she wouldn’t be coming to school at all.

What on earth would they have made of the total eclipse of 1999?

I’ll never forget that warm August day when we all went up to Beachy Head on the South Downs, clutching our silly glasses and a picnic hamper. Half the population of Eastbourne had had the same idea, it seemed.

We found a spot to sit on the grass, donned our glasses and gazed at the sky, waiting.

I remember how the air suddenly chilled as the sun turned black and twilight fell; the eerie silence as the birds stopped singing. The awe...

And that, I think you'll agree, was an eclipse to put today's feeble effort firmly in the shade...