(Sigh…) They left today. Remember all that I said in my last post about maybe people living so far away is better somehow? BS. I call BS on my own blog. Because they left today and now my heart is aching not only for myself, but for Nash who, once we arrived back at home (me sniffling the whole way), Nash looked at me and asked, “Mom?” No, Mom’s on a plane. And Christmas is feeling decades away, let me tell you.
We awoke to temperatures that plunged into the 30’s this morning. I think the green in the leaves is on its last leg with this kind of weather. Last week was really almost perfect, though. Dad wasn’t feeling great after the long travel and a sore hip, so we didn’t venture too far away from home. We did Morges, Rolle
and Yvoire… each for their respective patisserie/coffee/filets de perches stops along the way! Living here I will admit that I love becoming a total tourist when tourists come to visit me. I completely indulge in afternoon millefeuille (a bit like Napoleons if you’ve ever been to New Orleans), mid-morning croissant or pain au chocolat (just finished the last one with Nash as our dessert after lunch today.) Apart from a haze that kept us from seeing the Mont Blanc in the distance (I swear this always happens when they come), it was a great week. And for Nash to have all eyes on him, he loved every second! After bathtime every night was a little show of him skipping and running and jumping and dancing around the living room… his little personality is really blossoming, especially with an audience!
We also took advantage of the dairy farm down the road. Nash loves going here and I did a wee photo shoot while we were there.
As you will notice from most of the photos, there is actually very little interaction between Nash and the ‘moos,’ as he likes to refer to them. This is more about the mini-tractors, stroller, and the big litter box, I mean sand box, that he digs around in with shovels that look as though they’ve passed through many a hand here at the dairy farm. It is moments like these that are my ultimate test of suppressing my urge to immediately douse my child in antibacterial anything on hand! Having a 22 month old, one most let go of most notions of what cleanliness might have been prior to this age. The dirtier and muckier and stickier (actually, he abhors being sticky, its hilarious!), and grimier the better. Puddles are are oasis to the child, he is like a fly on, well, you know, so I am trying to bring myself to not be attatched to the adorable boots and shoes that I dress him in because inevitably they will become filthy, there is just no getting around it.
But for me, the dairy farm is all about the cows. I love the sounds of the clanging bells and watching the pigs spring from one side of the pen to the other in anticipation of a snack. Wish Nash shared that kind of appetite! When I have a franc or two on me I fill up at the auto-milk-mat which is open 24-7. It is raw milk so they give a quick description of how to pasteurize it, something I rarely do considering we usually finish the liter within a day. Nash is becoming more and more a fan of milk, thankfully. So yeah, this really is one of our favorite hang-outs as of late. The only down-side of visiting the farm is the ‘au revoir.’ I am not kidding, they must think I am pinching my child the way he freaks when its time to go. Even after a ritual saying goodbye to all the dusty toys and a discussion on when we’ll be back (usually within a day or so), he still loses it when we have to go. But the fact of the matter is that right now, anything I need to happen with Nash is fascilitated with a ‘want to go see the moo’s?’ and seeing as I usually do try to follow through with what I say, we make visits all the time. Bribery? Most certainly. Effective? Hell yes.