cloudy sunny cloudy sunny

In Cambrai the weather is cloudy but clearing, sort of. It was raining, and now we get drifts of white clouds and drifts of grey clouds and glimpses of bright blue sky. Now it's clouded over again, only to go sunny half an hour later. I'm sitting in the living room writing this: the window to the left and the one in front of me show slices of blue sky and bright sunshine, and the window to the right is thick cloud. Michelle's taking her visiting friends around for the tour of Cambrai and canal in a bit, but I think I'll stay in; I have some artsy and writing projects to finish. Steffen's sister and her boyfriend are here too. It's a big weekend for visitors! St. Patrick's Day, you know, which meant that all the pubs in town were serving Guinness and whiskey, and that everything was packed when we went out dancing and we couldn't even get up without losing our seats, so we didn't end up dancing at all, but at least I got a free Guinness glass (a tiny one). And then we came home and ate chocolate pie.

Today we have big plans to make spinach and goat cheese lasagna, since Cata's not back from Spain yet, so we can still cook with goat cheese without hearing a number of complaints. Though we might get some anyway - she didn't tell us what time she'd get home, although she got cranky with me for not saying what time I'd be home from England when I went. Ah, the joys of cohabitation. It is good generally, though: our tiny house that occupies three has so many unofficial inhabitants. Yesterday we even got Steffen to vacuum for us. Actually, he volunteered while I was sweeping in preparation to mop (and believe that the kitchen floor looks so much better than it did yesterday, given that at points I was on hands and knees with a sponge). So that was pleasant, having our half-housemate actually do some tidying up when generally we can barely coax him into doing the dishes. But he still can't cook for anything.

It was a good week at school. My classes that don't generally behave behaved pretty well, though I'm not sure they actually understood what the lesson was trying to convey. They're learning about the American west and the frontier and it's rather impossible to explain to French children what the frontier meant to the pioneers, and what it still means to the American spirit. The French have pretty much always known where their boundaries were since the time of nos ancetres les Gaulois. They've been conquered a lot more than they've been doing the conquering. I tried to explain how much hope the pioneers and the immigrants had for the wide, wild lands of the West, but the landscape is different, both physically and emotionally, from the soft rolling French countryside. So eventually we just played with the opinion cards. With the older classes, I had my favorite student show up with one of my kids from last semester whom I technically don't have anymore, but it's always nice to know that they like me enough to come to class even when they don't have to.

Next Friday I'm going to Paris with a significant number of the kids. We're going to the theatre. I'm not sure what we're seeing - some Russian or German play in French, I think - but it should be fun, and it's a nice little birthday present for me, since we won't be back until after midnight, and then it will be the 24th and I'll be 22. I've told Michelle I expect to see a frosted cake and a pile of presents on the table. And I get to go to Paris for my birthday like I wanted without having to pay for it! Nice! Although what I really wanted to do was pick up Fragile Things and take it to Neil Gaiman's book signing. I miss books in English. The French books I've found are kind of hit or miss. I read Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson in French and it was excellent, but the Discworld books are rather awful. I suppose I could get actual French books by actual French authors, but why on earth would I want to do that? They're probably all depressing. (I'm kidding, but only half.)

I've done the dishes, and I can't do any laundry until Steffen's is done, so I suppose I'll go back to futilely trying to copy my music off my iPod onto the computer. Oh, Windows Vista, you're certainly pretty, but you give me problems. Or maybe I'll attempt to perfect my Scouse accent before the Liverpudlians get back, so they can be amused.

Have an excellent Sunday!