Music, le Mistral, Bio-mmmmmm

Today was our first music lesson.

Thank goodness we left our house a bit early because we got kind of lost getting to our music teacher's house. Now, my dad did give my mom great directions on a map. But my mom still doesn't know her way around this town (nor do I), so it wasn't surprising, really.

First we asked a police woman which street to go down at a V in the road. She told us to go a droit (right). So we did. We walked down that street against the wind, wind so strong that my wrap-skirt kept unwrapping. Glad I had leggings on. Frances says, her basket and the wind were in war and the wind won. My mom took her earrings off in case they flew away, too. Finally, my mom stopped us and said,"Hey guys, this is not the right road." So we went back to where we met the police officer and on the way we met a french Muslim woman (we know because of her scarves). She told to go up the exact same street as the police officer did!. Her friend came out of her house and told us that as well. So. Well. Off we went to fight the wind again. Up, up, up, and my skirt fell off--again.

Meanwhile, Daddy fought the wind, too, only on his bike. He was trying to stay on the very narrow roads outside of town. At one point he says he was in his smallest gear on the flats.

After going farther than the spot my mom originally stopped us, we found the house.

Marc, our music teacher, was from Quebec, Canada and moved here in 1971. He believes that to know music you have to learn to do 4 things really well: hear music, read music, imitate music, and invent music. All four have to be apart of your learning.

Frances says, "I could see him nodding and saying 'mmmmmmmmm' in the reflection of the piano. It made me feel good."

My mom says, "it is an incredible opportunity to learn from this man. He has so much passion, loves kids, is an accomplished musician, believes in knowing and attaching to your instrument, and likes MY girls! He's gentle, creative, and fun to be around. He taught Eleanore something incredible about the violin: that if she plays the right note, the other strings will vibrate. She tried it and watched her strings, not the tuner at all. Eleanore just adjusted her finger until the other strings vibrated, which meant she it the not spot-on. We'll learn more about that next week. He speaks English with us now, but I sure wish we could learn in French! Oy. that would be tough. Oh, and one more thing: we started our composer biographies today before music, reading about about Ludwig Van Beethoven and Peter Tchaikovsky. Both men, separated by a good half-century, were really sensitive people and were known for the emotion in their music. Read about them if you can. What beautiful men."

My dad showed up at the music lesson in his white Pacos biking outfit. He was handsome!

After the lesson, he led us to the "Bio" (pronounced Beeee-Oh) coop. Organic. We got some things so we wouldn't starve during the night, and we got some other things so I wouldn't starve in the morning; and we got some other things so I wouldn't starve in the day. We bought tofu, meats, crackers, veggies, yogurt, granola, fruit, carrots (see photo), and sesame bars that my mom loves but thinks might be dog biscuits. I had the thought of dog biscuits when I tried one..it tasted like dog biscuits..I almost gagged...and then when I looked at it closely...it looked like a dog biscuits...and then when I smelled it...it smelled like dog biscuits. My mom ate mine. She says, "Hey, vegetarians have it rough in France. We might as well eat good dog biscuits!"

Then off we went to the cheaper store get more toilet paper. This doesn't sound like a very spectacular item to include in a blog entry, but really it is. Because it's part of a plan: last time, we had pink toilet paper; this time, we bought blue paper; next time, we'll by orange toilet paper.

We Skyped with Addy and Maia right before dinner. Addy couldn't believe Francie's hair was still red and Maia kept whacking Addy with a broom that was playing the part of a hockey stick. Skyping's FUN.

Oh, and about the carrots, they are so organic they still have mountains of dirt on them. My dad gets mad because he feels like he's paying for the weight of the dirt, too.