Baby Sarkozy's name is rumoured to be Dahlia

I’m interrupting food week for a non-foody blog. I couldn’t ignore today’s top news in France – baby Sarkozy who arrived on Wednesday night. Mother and baby girl are doing well and father is preoccupied by politics. He missed the actual birth but has since come home from Frankfurt, although probably not for long.

Mlle Sarkozy is a lucky young lady. She won’t be short of a bob or two and all being well she’s inherited her mother’s looks, rather than dad’s. She has a rather nice life of plenty waiting ahead of her. It made feel just a little sad this morning. As we cycled to school, something I don’t suppose Mlle S will ever do, I realised that the only new things Ruadhri was wearing were his runners. The rest of his ensemble, including bike and helmet, was secondhand at best but predominantly thirdhand. Most of his stuff is, poor poppet. And he hasn’t had a holiday in six years. However, he’s happy and bright, clean and smart, loving and creative, and I don’t think a lack of material wealth has had a negative impact on him. OK, he doesn’t have the Nike jogging suit or the Adidas runners or the Marseilles Olympique rucksack like a good few of his school friends do. He has perfectly acceptable alternatives. We chose to downsize our lives when we came here and this is the consequence. But we also have three bilingual children who are living extremely interesting lives and aren’t scared of a challenge. Chris and I have shown them that you can break out of a rut and go for it. Rors isn’t doing so badly.

 

I took Ruadhri to the Etang de Montet in Boussac yesterday. It’s a small lake on the outskirts of the town and it has a fitness trail around the edge of it. We had a go at most of the challenges and a really great time.

A bit wobbly!

Neither Rors nor I could reach some of the hanging bars so we had to miss those activities out. And what’s this? Don’t the French know it’s leap frog and not leap sheep? Dearie me!

There were plenty of things to climb …

And finally the seesaw …

A last picture. Outside the College nearby there are these awesome ‘sculptures’.

So, baby Sarkozy will be growing up comfortably, and I hope happily, in the Champs Elysées. Well, all things considered, it’s pas mal growing up in the champs around here too!