The mid term report ...

... has been sitting in the bottom of the bag for a few weeks, but it's time to drag it out.

Weather. Jury's split on this one. Half of us (the mature half) give it an 'A+': clear seasonal distinctions; lovely spring; summer warming up nicely. The less mature younger members of the family have taken a hard line and refuse mulishly to move above a solid 'B': snow didn't last long enough; spring has come and gone; and it's too hot. There may be something in this, as today it hit 48 degrees at 3 in the afternoon, and public radio and t.v. were warning people to stay indoors and keep the water topped up. Tomorrow it is supposed to get even hotter ... [Hang on! (Ema here.) It was a lovely afternoon, 35 in the shade, nice cool drink, good book ... only you would have chosen that day to mow the lawns and trim the bushes ...]

Food. 'A' for this. 'Only an A?', I hear you think. Well, the quality and availability of fresh (and frozen) produce is consistently good. (As is the experience of buying it. Today at the market, along with all of her other regulars we took pleasure in Our Cheese Woman's new, bigger, whizz-bangier cart. Our Vege Man tosses in extra bits and pieces for free. Our Lamb Woman could pass for a Topp Twin - with dreadlocks - and once spent 3 months working in the Wairarapa. Our Chicken People do a killer roast chook. We never vary and we are very possessive of Our People.) But here's why it's not an 'A+'. Sometimes the stuff from strange and forgotten corners of Europe is past its best (e coli, e coli, e coli), and the price of fish and red meat is very off-putting. Cam and I purchased some fresh cod at the market this morning: when we figured out it was going for $66 per kg we rapidly reworked the night's meal plan ...

Location. Hands down 'A+'. If we could afford the gazillion dollars that Martine and George's home is worth, we'd buy it. The only people would could possibly feel uncomfortable here are the sort of people who aspire to living in the middle of Idaho. (Appropos of which, this is the best film that Johnny Depp, Juliette Lewis and Leonardo di Caprio have ever done, and it was set in Idaho, I think.) When it was 10 degrees below during winter it was 25 inside; when it nearly hit 50 outside today it was 25 inside. That's weirdly consistent. Fruit trees, bats, shade, grassy knolls, golden chooks and grumpy, cross-eyed tomcats happily coexisting, paddocks next door, mountains wherever you turn. We may be hard to shift ...

Work. Rosalie would like to give her school an 'F-'. I said that sounds like the front half of a jet-fighter, not a letter grade. Rosalie being Rosalie, the 'F-' stands. [Although she gets an A+ for her performance there, her endurance and resilience and her capacity to make friends with a whole bunch of boys and the odd girl, even though they have all been together for ever and she doesn't even speak the lingo. And also A+ for her remarkable impersonation of a french person in her school play. Perfect accent, great delivery and poise ... I'll stop now, or she will skin me alive ....]

Em is not entitled to grade this, as she is not working. Unless you count the work of reconnecting (with people, with place, with France ...) which, on reflection, is possibly the hardest and certainly the most important work that any of us have done here. I thought I might hazard a guess on this one. Then I thought better of that rather flawed tactic and asked her: 'A', turns out. I think I shall also give Cam an 'A' for her 4 jobs. Her work in the local canteen and library mean she is possibly amongst the most well connected people in the village - and the most knowledgeable about village gossip! Presently, I'd give my work an 'A-': good overall, but room for improvement. If I get Marsden funding this year, I shall have an 'A+' for the next 3 years.

Best moment.
See previous 26 blog entries.

Worst moment.
First time out on skis, reaching the top of the mountain after a 5 km slog uphill, and realising there was the matter of getting down to attend to. Not being a mountain man or a chamois, I found the prospect of getting down a big hill in fading light and on icy, slippery stuff rather menacing. Actually, riding down a big hill with vertiginous drops either side can be a bit tricky, too, but at least the damn bike stops when you ask it to. [And there is the matter of the mad brother-in-law, who made it all rather worse ...]

Could do better.
Put more effort into my French. Go for more bike rides up steep mountains. Drink less rose while gazing at the mountains I should be riding up. On balance, however, I prefer the Californian, New Age approach to things. So: could eat more of those amazing cakes; watch more free sport on public television; spend more money on food; have longer mountain watching/rose drinking moments; read more Terry Pratchett with the girls; spend more time shaking random hands and yelling 'Pompeeeeeee!' at the gym. [And cook more of those delicious things you find at the market for us! Come on bonhomme, let's have another quiet drink in the garden, these are the shortest nights of the year.]

And on that note, we're off to have another drink in the garden ...