My son and daughter-in-law arrive this afternoon to stay for the weekend with our 3-year-old granddaughter and 3-month-old grandson. Times like this we really miss our waterfront home with a tiny guest cottage in the garden, the beach for a playground — an idyllic place for summer visits with kids, for sure, and much easier to accommodate everyone than in a 2-bedroom condo. . .
Yes, AirBnB is an option, but we have a plan that involves some living-room camping for a little girl — we’ll see if it works. A cousins’ sleepover is in the works as well.
I reconcile myself to the limited space by thinking of how many folk manage(d) tight quarters in other places and other times. My English aunts, for example, used to tell me about escaping wartime London with the kids, heading up to my grandparents’ house where they’d sleep “tops and tails.” The cousins’ sleepover will perhaps channel some of that spirit, as the Visiting Three bunks down in a bedroom her Five and Three cousins share. (Indeed, the two-bedroom urban condo the Five and Three share with their parents manifests a modern, creative twist to that old “needs must” squeezing in — this Vancouver family featured on Cup of Jo last week is a great example of a joyous approach to living with less space.
Dinner for 8 of us here tonight and a weekend houseful, so Pater and I squeezed in our weekly date (a recent couple commitment, instituted by yours truly); his turn to plan, and he got us out up and early to bike the Stanley Park Seawall, stopping on the way home for breakfast. . .
And, of course, I need some time to read and think about and respond briefly to the thoughtful comments on my post about authenticity. I’m hoping the conversation will continue, but there’s already much there to consider.
So I’m off to rustle up some bed linens and do some dinner prep, but first, I’ll transcribe this page from my Travel Journal for you. I sketched the statue in Lyon, then painted it at my dining table here last week, another way of integrating There with Here, Then with Now. . .
As I’ve written to the right (top) of the sketch, this statue Le Joueur de Flûte (The Flute Player) was sculpted by Jean Delorme (1831-1905 — and as I’ve noted at the bottom of the page, it’s in the
Cloistered Garden of Musée des Beaux-arts de Lyon, Le Jardin du Palais Saint-Pierre
To the right, middle, I’ve written It had rained as we walked to the Place des Terreaux to visit this garden. The ground was muddy — even that French gravel — and the benches were wet. But we each found a statue to sketch, a bench to sketch from, and we settled in. Paul, I think, chose the Rodin, but this little flautist got my attention. . .
And top left, writing on the perpendicular A verdant canopy of fragrant leaves and blooms held sounds of chatter while it cooled us all. A grandfather spoke his erudite wisdom engagingly enough that his 4 young charges listened intently.
And that’s it, the last of my Lyon pages for this year’s Travel Journal, at least, although I do hope we’ll be back someday. In the meantime, I’m following the Instagram account of Joanna Morgan, a jewelry designer who recently closed up her Seattle atelier/shop to embark on a new adventure — which currently involves moving into a gorgeous apartment in Lyon. . . Ah, for Vicarious Travel!!
Okay, I’m off, but will look forward to reading your comments when I get a minute (you have no idea how much those comments power the blog — they’re so sustaining, and I thank you for them!)
I clicked on your blog to read more of the wonderful comments from your last post and found this one as well. Your statue sketch is stunning!
Enjoy your weekend with a full house. Some of my fondest memories of childhood involve annual visits to a great-aunt in a tiny cottage in Cumberland. Our family of four plus my grandparents squeezed into her small space. I hardly remember where we all slept but I do remember the fun we had!
Frances in Sidney
Aren't those comments on the last post good?!
Thanks re the sketch — and I love that recollection of cottage time. . .
I'm reminded of the time I took friends' three girls for a trip, which necessitated their first experience with "tops and tails" sleeping. In the morning, the youngest, in the middle position and the first to awaken, amused herself with picking fluff from between her sisters' toes. They were not nearly so amused to be tickled-toed awake. On the other hand, I think "camping" on your patio could be great fun.
Too funny! Tops and tails and toes and tickles. . .
Granddad thought camping on the terrace would be fun, but not so sure about privacy and security issues — we might give it a try ourselves some warm summer night though. . .
I would secretly hope the 3-year-old would come and crawl into bed with me. My parents loved when my kid would do that.
I love your sketches.
I can sometimes get one of the littles to take an afternoon nap with me. . . in the morning, I'm always up before everybody. 😉
Thanks re sketches
The pages you have shared from you trip journal trip are such a joy. I can only imagine the pleasure you/your children will have looking over it in years to come. As one who has simply written about various trips in a journal, it is wonderful to see how your paintings/sketching of scenes along the way have such a visceral impact–adding a wonderful layer of remembrance. Bravo.
I feel the same way, having been the one who only wrote about my travels — and that was satisfying enough, but I'm so pleased I got prodded out my conviction I couldn't draw and I'm enjoying this added layer so much now. Thanks for telling me you enjoy them as well.
Lovely sketch, Frances. That journal is such a treasure. I've completely given up journal writing. I was just about to write "I should start again" but stopped since I am trying to eliminate those guilt inducing "shoulds" from my life.
Maybe I can persuade Stu to write one when we travel. He used to write in my travel journal occasionally. Sometimes I'd get up in the morning to find a page entitled "View from the Driver's Seat" … he'd been writing while waiting for me to get out of bed.
Enjoy your houseful this weekend: the clamour, the conversation, the laughter… and the peace when everyone goes home:)
I found that my personal travel journalling fell off dramatically when I began blogging about my trips. I think that the sketching is a way of getting some of that back. I still value hand on page very much although I've been keen enough to embrace the value of digital story-telling obviously.
I love that Stu added entries in your journal — but I don't think you should abandon your own travel journalling — we've all loved the entries you've shared on the blog. . .
Your sketches just keep getting better and better. It sounds as though the littles will have lots of fun together.
They are having so much fun, thank you!
The color you mixed for the flutist is superb! I often yearn for more space, especially as retirement approaches and my hobbies take up more room. We did not have this issue when raising our two boys in our rather small house. Lack of space was not a concern, we made it work. Enjoy your weekend.
Thanks, S! I was really pleased with how well that colour mixing worked.
And you make a good point — I'm honestly more likely to wish for more space for my various creative activities than for beds for my kids. Bad Mom/Nana! 😉
My first thought was: what beautiful colours for the patina of the statue -masterful (so,I agree with SusanaL :-))!
Lovely way to start the weekend. Enjoy the rest of it. Kids would be delighted- a camping… An adventure!
Two bedroom apartments are pretty normal here for families with kids (there are still a lot of one bedroom apartments,too-for young families to start…and than they stay…),but I agree,it is difficult after a house,guest house,the sea……but it has its advantages and charm- and terrace….
Dottoressa
Thanks! We're having a good weekend, although I was torn about that game. You know I love France as well, so. . . and your team was amazing to get all the way to Second Place. . .
Thanks, K!
And yes, there are compensations — such as being close enough to get all the cousins together. . . they didn't get over to the beach house so often. . .
(Sorry about that game, although you know I do love France. . . and your team did so very well getting all the way to Second Place)
Dottoressa and I have had such fun over the last few weeks "watching" the World Cup together! We shared some support and a few nail biting moments as I was all for Croatia all the way through, UNTIL, the semi-final. We shook virtual hands before that match and entered as friends and exited as friends!
Today? It was me shouting at the TV for Croatia and my sweetheart for France. Phew what a tournament; what a world unifier. Loved every minute. The beautiful game is a beautiful distration, among so many other things.
Oh, the cousins. What a tale they will tell about such fun at Nana's. Such special bonds between cousins- friends but very much more. The absolute best memories of my childhood involve camping or sleep-overs with one or more of my 63 cousins (really).
A. in London
Thank you both!
Congratulations to France! And to Mr.and Mrs. Macron as well!
A. was so supportive,I've got beautiful mails
Our players were very sad,there were tears, but we here are still,nevertheless,so proud and happy (the sadness was only for a while-the silver medal is a fairy tale,a miracle for a little country as Croatia,the celebrations continues……),our team was great,there were no problems,the whole world now knows our red-white squares…..
It would have been even nicer if Russians could have found an umbrella for our president on the medal awarding :-)-but she was great,even completely soaked!
Dottoressa
I know! How we laughed about one umbrella over one head while the rain poured. What a silly sight. Somehow she managed to look joyful and proud and beautiful while being soaking wet. Got to love her style.Croatia, rock on.
A.in London