Lucie watch, part 100,000

I've managed to wrestle Lucie away from the computer, and now we'll continue this at an adult level. So here are a few more pictures.

On Thanksgiving, we entertained some friends in Paris. Michele made a pumpkin pie that was to die for. Lucie helped.
As I've written before, Lucie is cutest when she gets out of the bath.
Charles (my cousin) and Sara, parents of little Camille, came to visit us last weekend.
Morgane gave Lucie this great little outfit, which is both cute and really funny.

Blogging like a Lucie

While my father's sharp wit and sense of his own ridicule have carried us this far, I realize it's time for me to take over the management of my Internet personna. One can only count on one's people so much, if you knowhattamean. At some point, a girl's got to be on the front line and do her own communicating, and so here it is.

Before you accuse me of not being able to type and of having another ghost writer, here is proof that I can operate these god-awful computers. When I'm old, we'll have automatic dictation, none of this nonesense about typing. (ok, having no spine rigidity doesn't help).
These computers are so baby-unfriendly, and I've got to use my nose on the mousepad. Take notes Steve Jobs!
To make sure that Bertrand can't pick on me at Xmas, I continue to practice my right hook. Did I mention that I'm gonna get that Bertrand guy at Xmas?

When I'm not practicing martial arts, I like to cuddle with my mother or my father.
I get lots of kisses because I'm so cute.
However, nothing quite beats napping with my father.

Happy Thanksgiving...

Dear Fans: thank you for your devotion, and happy Thanksgiving to you all.

- Lucie

Back to the real thing

My (Greg's) family got together this past weekend in Paris. Bertrand came from Brussels and Morgane from London. Nobody can really be sure where my parents came from, but they were there. I am on paternity leave for 11 calendar days. This is a neat feature of the French namby-pamby state. Why it's calendar days is still a puzzle, but one shouldn't ask too many questions. It's not paid at 100% of one's salary, but the real value of this time off is that your idiot boss can't deny you the right to spend some time with your bundle of joy. In my case, and in all fairness, no fight was necessary even though I've just given them my (mandatory 3 months!) notice. I will be working for Seureca (www.seureca.com/en/) starting in Feb.

I know none of you care about this stuff, so let's have some pictures instead:
Aunt Morgane and little Lucie, sporting her new bee-shoes, a gift from Bertrand.
Morgane and SuperCuddly.
Grandma Marie-Yvonne and Lucie.
Bertrand harrassing his niece (come pick on someone your own size, why don't you?)
Above-mentioned niece practicing flying kick to get back at Bertrand later on (you go, girl!).

Love those tight little fists. Makes you wonder what kind of stress-case she'll be later on... Just like her dad.
Our friend Katherine, who visited back in June, sent us some embroidered things, including this nice bathcloth-hoodie-thingie ( us boys are a bit challenged when it comes to linens).

Something else

As many of you know, there are massive strikes in the railway sector in France, particularly in Paris. I was riding my Velib (self-serve bicycles) when I happened onto a BBC crew, and I got on the air.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/mediaselector/check/player/nol/newsid_7090000/newsid_7093700?redirect=7093782.stm&news=1&bbwm=1&nbram=1&nbwm=1&bbram=1&asb=1

You are welcome to make as much fun of me as you want.

However, let me explain what's missing from the extract: I had started by saying that the strikers are mostly hurting the people who can't afford to live in Paris, and whose life is at least as hard as train drivers and conductors. There are several people in my office who are having to take a holiday in the middle of November just so they won't get fined by the company for failing to show up. I find it remarkable that these left-wing organisations are hurting some of the most vulnerable members of society.

What else? more Lucie...

As those who've visited know, we live across from the fire company (one of the oldest in Paris). It's a beautiful building undergoing renovations. During these renovations, the trucks are conveniently parked in the street below our living room and bedroom windows. Every weekend, they practice climbing the ladder. It brings images of Tom&Jerry cartoons to mind, I always expect them to run off into the air, but it never happens.

Michele's parents right before they left Paris. Don't be fooled, Richard wasn't so happy to leave the croissants and yummy Paris-Brest pastries behind.

Lucie's got the greatest dad in the world, and he's arranged for the world's best craddle ever!

Can you say "cute"?

Shake a leg! (and smile)

Lucie's a very independent child, who prefers to stare at the ceiling rather than look at her parents. This promises to be a joy when she's 13.

But she's so adorable.

Bertrand came for lunch and got a kinda-sorta smile going.

Sleeping, with super-confy blanket courtesy of our friend Sharon.

We're back!

Alright kids, we know you've all been wondering what's going on with Lucie, but we've been busy.
Michele's parents came to visit Lucie (and us possibly) for two weeks. It was lovely to have them, and we even took them and Lucie on a road trip to Bretagne, where Lucie met her great-grandmother.

SupperCuddly mode


Lucie with her grandmother Judy.

Hands are tasty treats...

Grandfather Richard and Lucie

Lucie is cutest when she gets out the bath.

Clothilde, Greg's cousin, came to pay hommage to her niece. Lucie couldn't care less: she's much more interested in the lights shining elsewhere.

Sleeping in the car.

Walking on the beach in Quiberon.

Beware the one-eyed pirate!

Michele's mother in Portivy (lest we forget, other people do exist besides Lucie).

Michele's parents in Portivy

Lucie and her great-grandma Dadah (Dadah's real name is Denise, which just happens to be Lucie's middle name).

Richard, ever the teacher, making sure that his granddaughter knows the basics.

Just like her mother, Lucie's always stylish.