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Je n'ai plus de feu
SSar's Beast
morbane
Wheee. Mangos! Except they wouldn't light on fire. We shall employ a different method next time. We had everyone out on the balcony... and then in the kitchen because we couldn't keep the taper alight... and then, from various persons (especially the teetotallers), the possibly-logical suggestion, "Add more whiskey!" Creating an ethanol-sodden mix which we eventually had to drink. Now, to everyone's wariness, I have bought more mangos, not quite so ripe and slushy.

In more exciting and less inflammable news, my parents are going to France. Hurrah! I am so very excited for them. They've been making noises about "Oh, it would be really nice to go again," since before I went to University. Our last visit, I was fourteen, turning fifteen on the day we crossed the Channel. "Elle a quinze ans." "Non, j'ai JUSQU'A quinze ans. Je suis quatorze." And then I'd glare because I'd know I'd used the wrong grammar.

So they're going to Dordogne, in the southwest. Or, at least, mostly there. They're staying a whole month including Cathy's birthday. Mum sprung the news on me on Friday - which was only the second surprise, as I had actually forgotten she was coming to Wellington.

In slightly more inflammable news (since, upon discussion, we have decided she would be easier to set fire to than all of une département) Frances is here. (Behind me. We are taking turns playing each other tracks from our music collections.) Visiting! Staying in my room! Diverting Brii from her murderous tendencies! She's been here since last Friday, which was a busy Friday. I had to finish an essay, go meet Frances, and go to work. Plus the Mormons called.

We're off to see Science of Sleep, and then Joel'll return. JOEL!

Time to write an email to my parents.

Happy birthday Susy!

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Yay France!

We're going to Science of Sleep tonight. Compare notes later?

I'm not sure that's a very safe thing to be around here.

Who are you when you're on Writers' Window, Deutschy?

Writer's Window? Sorry? You must explain this?

Perhaps I'm mistaken. I added you because of a connection - I forget what it was, but I believed it was because you'd belonged to a site at which I used to be a moderator - http://english.unitecnology.ac.nz/writers/home.html aka Writers' Window.

I guess not. How curious.

And now I realise that I actually added you, in the first place anyway, because you went to my primary school, my intermediate, and my secondary school. Sorry for the confusion. :)

The Dordogne is lovely. I lost a fly-swatter when my family went canoeing there when I was about 5. Me and my brother were not allowed to use the paddles, you see, so I decided to paddle with the flyswatter, and then learned WHY we weren't allowed paddles.

Where else are they going? And what other memories do you have of France?

It's odd- in the past I never considered just how exciting it was to have Europe on my doorstep in the way I do- if I decided to, I could go get on a ferry and be in France by tomorrow- sooner, in fact. It's only since I've been dating Paul that I've started to appreciate it. Hell, he even gets excited sometimes when we're walking to Forbidden Planet (if you or Joel ever come to England I'm taking you in there and leaving you for a couple of hours- we're talking action figures, DVDs, graphic novels by the BUTTLOAD, games, and SF/Fantasy novels. It's the kind of place where if you really wanted to, you could spend STUPID amounts of money on things like an official replica stake from Buffy, or a copy of Elendil) and he'll suddenly get all excited and say "I'm in LONDON!". It's very cute.

Well, I lost my favourite cat brooch somewhere in Normandy, but a fly-swat is so much more colourful.

It must be very exciting to think of going to another country like that. I remember on my last trip to France my parents made me read an instructive French book that dealt with an English family's vacation. It amazed me that only two pages dealt with their actual passage onto French soil. The average international flight I've taken is probably over six hours at least. When I was writing letters or postcards home to friends this always deserved a separate mention.

I think they're staying in a reasonably small area. I was six when we first went to France but my parents had taken several trips there before I was born, so I don't know all the places they've been. The last visit we spent mainly in Normandy and Brittany. They're taking bicycles. :)

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