Let's see... Many things happened this weekend. On Friday, we were invited to dinner at the home of the historian whom Sean has been wanting to work with here in Nantes. He's the same guy who let Sean know about the Institute (that goose with the golden eggs that never seems to run out of gold), and has already invited him to a conference in Barcelona and asked him to write a paper for some sort of anthology. Anyway, since he's American, we thought it would be an informal affair, and made the enormous faux pas of arriving right on time, and with a bottle of medium expensive wine (15 euros, that's about $22 , not bad for here). Oh, was it ever NOT an informal affair! There were two other couples there, in addition to the couple whose house it was at, all academics, all very interested in talking about modern art and all the exhibits they'd been to, and the various academics they liked and didn't like from various universities in France, and the concert cellists they liked and didn't like... It wasn't all that different from American Academics, except that in this case, we knew nothing and could in no way participate. There were many complicated dishes on different plates and with different cutlery, very good wine (you understand, from the great wineries, but sold under a different label because of the quotas, and my brother has an in, so he gets many cases of it with cash when he visits... not 22 dollar wine in any case). There were rules, too, that we didn't know but all the others knew, like that you cannot sit down when the hostess isn't sitting (only what do you do when you were sitting and she stands up?). And there were also silences in the conversation, where I thought I really ought to say something, since I had not been doing my duty all evening, but where the more I felt that I ought to say something, the more completely incapable I became of coming up with anything at all. Anyway, at around midnight, as we were drinking tea back in the drawing room, one of the silences was interrupted by a phone ringing. Everyone looked astonished, except for me and Sean, we looked at each other with a marked lack of astonishment. Indeed, it was Magdalene, who was babysitting for us for the first time. She had not heard Mimi's cries to go to the bathroom (Mimi still wears her bar on her feet, and so can't walk), so Mimi had had to drag herself to Magda's room and had not been able to make it without peeing in her pyjammas. Magda wanted to know what to do (she handled everything beautifully, but she was relieved when we finally made it home). Then we had to tell that fancy company all about it, and though it was our first and only entrée into the conversation, it wasn't the brilliant one we were hoping for.

On Saturday, my high school friend Alexa and her family arrived for a visit. Alexa is an art historian and has been in Italy and Paris all summer and fall doing manuscript research. She's staying until December, and we hope we get to see more of them. That's her son Asher on the photo with Mimi, on the banks of the Erdre (it's the side opposite the one I normally run on). Simeon had his first playdate with a boy named Matteo. I wondered about how they would communicate, but as it turned out, they only played soccer, for four hours straight, so communication wasn't key.

Matthias became best friends at first sight with Alexa's daughter Annika (pictured here). The two of them spent the weekend perched in the tree that Matthias goes in when he's sad (that's what Mimi calls it). Asher and Mimi sort of turned around each other suspiciously, while at the same time pretending to ignore each other, just like little dogs (so much for her socialization, I'm going to have to complain at school). Anyway, the children got a lot of social contact from the weekend, and so did the parents. What a relief and pleasure to speak with other Americans, without worrying about forgotten or unknown rules of politeness, or about how slowly one is speaking when everyone else speaks at a rate of 1000 words a second, or about their judging us or anything. It's hard to live somewhere where no one knows you and you know no one. It's always hard to remember who you are without the help of a kind of mirror from others who actually see something you recognize as yourself (frankly, I really don't know what the French see when they see me, not anything even in the same species as what I imagine as myself, I expect).

Other news: Mimi has aquired a new Papou! She was very grown up and tried very hard to like that goat I got her (who went successively by the names chèvre, horsie, and chien), but when she felt Papou's ears under her nose, oh, she couldn't contain her joy, and there's been not another look at anyone else since. Let's hope we can hang on to this one. She still comes up with elaborate theories about where the old one is, how someone found it and put it in the garage sale, and then someone bought it and brought it far away, but they are soon coming to give it to her, maybe it was her French cousins Josephine and Gabriel... In any case, Mimi has gotter happier (if sucking her thumb with a faraway look in her eyes more counts as happier, I don't know for sure). Magdalene has been really unhappy in school, as everyone knows. She's been unable to make any friends in her class, she's complained that the kids in her class are unfriendly, disrespectful to the teachers, unwilling to work, and sometimes downright mean. I was disappointed when they put her in a class with all the kids who are having to repeat the year, and and I've been less than impressed with the generally low standards in her class. Well, after a few judicious phone calls and appointments, I have accomplished what I thought was completely impossible (with the very welcome help of Magda's main teacher). I have managed to get them to change her to a better class where she already has friends. The cost, to her (but I assume also to me in an increased homework load and in a tired grumpy girl), is going to be that she start Ancient Greek, a month behind the others, and that she get up every morning for an 8AM start and end almost every day at 5:30. She's going to be exhausted, the work is going to be difficult, like it was for me--let's not let our children have an easier middle school experience than ourselves, it would not build character--but at last she will be with kids that she can make friends with and who can help her navigate French culture a little better (I dare not say like, after all, what have I been doing about French culture ever since we moved here, I ask you, complaining, so why should I want her to like it? Except that I do, for some reason.)

Tomorrow another wednesday to fill! Shall we take another trip to the library? Or to a playground where they can ride their bikes on some dirt hills covered with horsechestnuts? I'm not taking three small children to a museum, and they're all done with the castle and the cathedral, and none of the pools are open.

I made rabbit for the first time in my life to welcome Alexa's family... now I'm going to have to try hare, or partridge, or duck, or brains and other offals. I'll try cooking something brand new for every visitor. Better come soon, the dishes are going to get stranger and stranger as the year goes on.