lundi, mars 21, 2005

I love Paris in the springtime (yes, I have to admit it)

Everyone's noticed already. It's spring. Strangely it was the deepest winter barely a week ago - ten centimetres of snow falling in as many minutes, if I remember correctly. And now the daisies are strewn so think along the banks of the Seine outside our house that it looks almost as though the freak snowfall has yet to melt.

In celebration of spring I made a fantastic dinner on Friday night, chilled almond soup, followed by lamb stuffed with saffron rice. It was like a pagan spring feast (and if you recall the soreness of the thumb, it was quite an achievement, all that cooking, and all one-handed).

And as though to celebrate - though obviously it's really just a coincidence - Raphael learned to ride a bicycle yesterday. With the kind of enthusiasm that I can barely muster up for a really remarkable wine or scrambled eggs with truffles, he literally couldn't stop pedalling once he'd figured it out. We had a picnic by the river today, and he wouldn't stop pedalling to eat. All the grownups sat on a hillock, the little ones wandered around aimlessly, the older ones climbed trees and attacked hidden aliens under rocks, and Raphael just carried on pedalling. He must have cycled about 20 miles, round and round the same hillock, for 3 hours. It probably isn't such a big deal, really, learning to ride a bike when you're nearly six. But there is an almost matchless joy to be had in watching the face of a small child on a two wheel bicycle, jaws clenched in concentration.