And now for something completely different...

I was speaking with a brother about a funny Monty Python sketch and we dug around on the fancy TV with an Internet connection and found it on YouTube. We played it, dissolved in laughter, and the princesses laughed with us. At the end they asked for more. We showed them more. They asked for even more, and their dad purchased a whole season worth of Monty Python's Flying Circus.

They spent all weekend watching. It was gorgeous weather outside, I finally managed to convince 2 out of the 3 to take a walk with me. And how did they walk? Silly walks, just like Monty Python, repeating bits and pieces of the sketches.

I'm afraid we got them infected. I suppose my brother will have to buy the other three seasons as well. There are worse things on the tube.

The Princesses and French Chocolate

We started the day in Chalons en Champagne, doing a walking tour of the town. Pretty much like every other town we've seen now. We had lunch at a local brasserie, it was okay. Then we headed off to a place north of Reims that had an outdoor go-cart place. It was open, so the men decided to do a round (although at 20 Euros for 12 minutes I thought it was highway robbery, you pay 21 Euros for 3 x 8 minutes in Berlin).

They donned blue jumpsuits and hairnets (!!) and helmets and off they went: WiseKid, WiseMan, and PrincessFather. PrincessMother commented on the testersterone level in the air, and the princesses had an ice cream waiting for the guys to start their motors.

They clapped and squealed each time one of the guys made the rounds. WiseKid lapped his father twice (which put him in a good mood for most of the day), and of course won.

Then we went on back to the chocolate factory. Turns out you can only watch guys stand at machines and make chocolate. Okay. So we got some for dessert. The princesses chose the lambies and snails and doggies. For the adults there were lips, penisses, and breasts. In two sizes and in dark or white chocolate. We passed on that, though, and got truffles and other stuff.

We headed home, dumped the kids with WiseKid, and then headed off down to road to town with the intention of trying a bottle of the local rot-gut. The fancy houses had insisted that their champagne was soooo superior to the tiny houses.

We walked up to Anne-Marie, who was in her garden. She was delighted to have us there, but had no champagne cold, could we come back in an hour? Sure! We continued on to Roger's place. We rang the bell and were about to leave, when we saw a good-looking young man without a shirt run across the lawn with two cold beers in his hand.

In a few moments he appeared - with a shirt - and invited us in. The problem was, he spoke no English and we spoke very, very little French. He opened a bottle, it was quite interesting, very different from what we had been tasting before. We pried out of him that it was a mostly pinot meunier grape that he used. We bought a bottle and left - we couldn't get him to talk. He didn't have a web site, he thought he might have email, but didn't have a card.

As it was too early for Anne-Marie, we went down to the little river to relax (and work off some champagne in the sun). As we got to her place, she was just calling up to the house to tell us that it was cold. Of course, WiseKid had no idea what she wanted. I spoke with him, calmed PrincessMother (who thought the kids had broken something), and we were invited in.

Anne-Marie was charming! It felt like she really liked having us there. She and her two brothers each have their own labels, their dad and granddaddy were wine and then champagne producers. She bubbled over in French and English, and we had a great time. And her champagne was - well - better than Moet, I felt! The second glass had the exact, perfect temperature, and tasted exactly right. So even though we were here by train, we got a six-pack to lug home. I now understand why many people drive to France with empty trunks. The price was about half what you pay in Germany for champagne, and it was Good Stuff!

She offered to drop the bottles off later, so we didn't have to carry them up the hill. So we headed up, and got dinner for the kids, trying a bottle from Anne-Marie's brother, Pierre, that the PrincessParents got while I was getting bread for dinner.

All in all, we had about 7 different champagnes, all different. I could have easily spent another week, trying more. And maybe taking the princesses to the snail museum.

We left early the next morning - I have to get back to university, and they are flying back to the States. It is sad to see them go, we had a wonderful time, even if it was very short. We shall return!

The Princesses in Reims

The theme for today was champagne and kings. We were going to visit the champagne house of Veuve Cliquot and then hit the cathedral of Reims, where a number of French kings were crowned. Princessfather set up the navigation system for the Veuve Cliquot address given in the guidebooks,
and off we went!

WiseKid was of course in our car, and we had some major discussions about the music he was allowed to play on the car radio with the gadget he found on the back seat of the rental car. I actually have one myself, it transmits the iPod tunes on an FM frequency, but I don't have to tell WiseKid about that. But he found the thing, in black not white, and had it figured out in 21 seconds and playing his horrible music in under a minute.

We followed Princessfather to Reims, where it turned out they are in the process of putting in a tram system. Since it is easier to just close off all the streets and do it all at once instead of doing it street by street, the
navigation system was just thoroughly confused. And the champagne place was no longer at the published address, after we finally found it.

So we headed for the cathedral and parked in the garage nearby. I had been looking forward to seeing this cathedral, as I had heard so much about the stained glass windows and the rose window. But in reality, it was just another gothic church with flying buttresses. It had suffered a lot during the world wars, so there was not much in the way of cool stuff on the inside. And the guy manning the souvenier shop refused to speak anything but French. I feel I must praise the Berlin bus drivers - they are going to school and learning enough English to tell tourists where to go. The French can't be bothered to learn any other languages, even if they could sell twice the stuff if the tourists could ask for stuff they want to buy.

A mass was being held (it was Ascension day, after all), but in the back of the church. It was nice to hear the organ playing, but the windows themselves were rather boring. I had recently seen the Cologne cathedral on a business trip, and the cathedral in Aachen, and I found both much grander, much more fascinating by far than Reims.

The princesses liked the ramps outside and enjoyed running up and down them.

We decided to go to the Palais de Tau museum next door. That is where the kings stayed the night before their coronation and then had a little party afterwards. The first few rooms were filled with bits that seemed to
have fallen off the church at different times. Then we had the party room, covered with nice tapestries. Okay.

At the front were the "crown jewels" - a replica. The princesses were enthralled - a crown! They took 17 pictures apiece of the crown, and then we went on to the little chapel where the kings could pray, and saw all the golden stuff the kings were given for their use at communion. Lots of gold.

We went down to the cellars - nothing there, but the princesses found it grand the way their stomping noises echoed throughout the room.

We found a nice place to eat sitting outside. Not the world's best food, but okay, and sitting out was neat. We then headed for Epernay, the champagne capitol, in the hopes of getting a taste. We first stopped at Mercier, and were lucky that the next English-speaking tour was going to be in 5 minutes.

There was a bit of Disney-esque corniness on the elevators going down (they had a glass wall where you could see figures through). Then we got on a train and were pulled through cellar after cellar of champagne. The princesses loved the train ride, and the adults liked the champagne tasting afterwards.
WiseKid, not yet 18 and not able to taste, had a fit of nastiness. Even though I offered him a taste of mine, he wanted his own, and huffed off to the car to pretend he was driving and listening to LOUD music.

We were going to check out a second place, but we got there behind a bus load of Belgians, so we just bought a bottle for tasting and carried on. We tried the chocolate factory, but they were closed on account of the Ascension Day holiday. So we drove home through the rain.

WiseKid bitched about not getting cigarettes, so Princessfather offered to drive to the gas station. Turns out the French don't even sell tobacco products in gas stations, only at tobacconists. Good job, Frenchies!

The adults did a champagne test of our own in the evening after the kids (including WiseKid!) were zonked out in their beds. I do prefer the Mercier to the Castilagne.

We debated what to do tomorrow, something more kid-like. The guide book has a snail museum and donkey riding. Maybe we'll also hit the go-cart place for WiseKid.....

The Princesses in France

We joined the princesses in a wonderful house in the countryside of the Champagne in France. They are now 8, 6, and 4 years old. They had "done" Paris, Eurodisney, Dijon and Epernay before we joined them. They really hit the high points of Paris - Eiffel Tower, bus tour to all the sights, down the Champs Elysee, around the Arc de Triumphe, the Louvre (with an unexpected meeting with the Venus de Milo and an expected viewing of the Mona LIsa), and the bridge the rat got freed on in Ratatoille.

Eurodisney, the Princessfather felt, was quite different from the stateside Disney parks. There, everyone is working to help you suspend your disbelief and have a magical day in the Magic Kingdom. In France, it is just a job and the people don't really want to be there and wish you would go home so they can get home at a decent hour as well.

In Epernay they visited the Moet & Chandon champagne cellars (including a tasting). They have enough bottles to survive 3 years in their cellars, and they sell 10 million bottles a year. That's a lot of bottles in a lot of caves! They were told the story of the looting the soldiers did during the various wars. The chief of the company had sighed: Okay, they are ruining me this year, but they will be customers next year.

Our first adventure together today was shopping. The princesses were parked with a video that started out with a trailer in English, WiseMan lay down for a nap, and the rest trucked off to the Carrefour. When we came back, the girls were well behaved, as behooves a princess, but were sad, since the video player had somehow detected that it was in France and started playing the French version of the movie.

Shopping was hard - so many choices! Special on scallops and shrimp! Fresh veggies galore! More cheeses to choose from than you can count. Strange, though, very little fresh milk. The French seem to like their milk ultrapasturized. Then we hit the champagne section - pretty much the same prices as in Germany, but oooooooh, the selection! We decided on mussels and some meat and veggies to make shish-kebab and some salad stuff and some Moet & Chandon and some cheaper stuff for the second course of champagne.

We set up a table outside, had just begun to eat and had taken our first sip of exquisite champagne in Champagne, when a helicopter churned up the valley. Now what on earth is the probability of that happening? The princesses are very interested in technology, having an engineer as a dad, an
aunt and a grandfather, so everyone dashed out to the street to observe.

It was spraying pesticides. Up and down the hills, back and forth.

So suddenly this delicious food and wine we were enjoying outdoors was not quite so fun. What invisible stuff were we eating along with our food? At least it was not windy, but still.

After dinner we walked down to the village - a dead little village. No bars, no stores left. A church that has no regular services. Just a telephone booth and some notices and a map of the area.

After walking back up we cracked the second bottle of champagne - a bit sweeter, not quite so bubbly, but tasty, just the same.

The princesses asked WiseKid to tell them a bedtime story. They requested that the story include dogs, farts, and burps. He was happy to oblige. I wish I could have been a fly on the wall listening to that story! (Note: it was retold to me with glee the next morning)

Off to see the Princesses!

We are in France for a short visit with the Princesses, who are over in Europe again, this year for visiting France. They have "done" Paris and Eurodisney (thank goodness!) already, we are now meeting up in the Champagne for some, well, champagne and cheese and a few days of catching up.

WiseKid is along, it is his first visit to France. He finds it irritating that people speak French. At least here in Strasbourg, our first stop, they do speak some German and/or English.

We had dinner at a Moroccan restaurant last night. All of the restaurants around a car-free city square had tables and chairs outside. We had a big table together with colleagues of WiseMan (they were here on business for 2 days). The restaurant brought us *piles* of couscous and veggies and tons of meat and good Alsatian white wine and then sweet peppermint tea after dinner. They only wanted 84 Euros for 5 people, we tried to explain to them that we thought they were undercharging us, but we didn't manage to make ourselves understood. So we had a great meal for very little money.

Although it is only a two-star hotel, the mattresses are great and the breakfast was surprisingly good. Who cares if the furniture doesn't really match or the sink is cracked?

We are now off to get a rental car - I've never driven in France before, this will be a challenge!

Webkinz

The youngest princess is having a birthday soon, so Aunt WiseWoman set out to get a present. Praise be mail-order - I can sit in Europe and order mail-order from America.

I asked the Princess Father what kinds of things she is interested in. Thomas the Train (nope, gave that last year); princess dresses (no); painting (weeeell, maybe); and Webkinz. Webkinz?

"Webkinz pets are lovable plush pets that each come with a unique Secret Code. With it, you enter Webkinz World where you care for your virtual pet, answer trivia, earn KinzCash, and play the best kids games on the net!"

You "adopt" your pet online. No. I don't like using the term adoption in referring to stuffed animals. And this gets the kids hooked up early to web pages with secret codes and lots of promotions for them to buy more and more and more toys. And you can buy books explaining how to use the web site. Can sheets and towels with Webkinz on them be far behind?

Shudder.

Found some nice Color-your-own-modern-art coloring books. And a book on painting rocks.

Bought a Barbie Princess

One of my princesses had her fifth birthday today! We had a nice video conference by Skype with her and the the other two princesses bouncing around on the bed while Princess Papa tried to hold the camera on the laptop stable. They're going to have a party with pizza and movies and were all excited.

Since WiseWoman is not all that wise about remembering birthdays (I need a calendar application that bongs me on the head a week in advance!), there was no present from me there. I asked the Birthday Princess what she would like to have. She screamed into the microphone: A Barbie!!

A Barbie. That paragon of bad body image for girls. The horrible gender stereotypes this figure perpetuates. I would prefer to get her a drill and a hard-hat or a train set. But it's her birthday after all. And I had a lot of Barbies I loved to play with and look at me, I turned out all right, didn't I?
(Ahhh, that red satin ball gown with the fur trim I got one Christmas, that was just incredible!).

So I surfed over to Amazon to get a Barbie. Shudder. There are princess Barbies. Prince Kens. Barbie can even have a job now: Art teacher, baby photographer or pet sitter. Wow. I slogged through pages and pages of expensive clothes. There was a nice western garb for Ken, but I remember they don't fit Barbie very well.

There were sets: Barbie in the bedroom, Barbie in the kitchen, Barbie's hot tub, Barbie's convertible. At least the first two had an "African-American" Barbie option. She has black hair (don't find her very dark).

I gave up on trying to find a Barbie-as-archeologist or Barbie-as-chemist set (although there was a vintage, 1984 Barbie-graduates-from-vet-school with a dog for about 65$). I got a princess. A battery-operated one that sings an annoying song and has peacock-feathers on a cape that open and shut and fall out. Her dress is nice, though.

And then I got a nice book about animal tails to go along with it.

The Princess Papers, Part 2

Oooh, no time for blogging here :)

We had a lot of excitement here the past few days. On the morning of my birthday I had two chipper princesses and one really tired looking one. She said she felt funny. P2 crawled onto my lap, and we hugged and cuddled. Then she threw up all over me. Good morning! She threw up many more times over the course of the day, so all activities had to be rescheduled around having PrincessMommy or PrincessDaddy be there.

P1 and P3 really enjoyed the big birthday party. Luckily, there were lots of kids there, so they ran around chasing each other, giggling and laughing and talking to each other in languages neither of the others could understand. They seemed to get food, and loved all the attention they were getting.

P3 got tired and laid down to sleep - right in the middle of the dance floor, where we were doing a line dance. I had some live musik and a dancing instructor teaching the Germans about how much fun line dancing and square dancing is. PrincessDaddy reacted swiftly, scooping up P3, insisting that P1 must be VERY TIRED and scooting them off to bed.

P2 felt better the next morning, so they took off for some sightseeing after the party cleanup. In the evening we watched the European equivalent of Super Bowl Sunday: Eurovision Song Contest Saturday. 500 million (!!!) Europeans were watching with us.

The princesses were all bathed and cuddly and packed off to bed while the TV was blaring. P2 went out like a light, P1 and P3 kept doing silly things, even though Aunt WiseWoman kept coming by with stern warnings or even just the Stony Face, which would cause them to dive under the covers and pretend to sleep - until I walked out of the door.

PrincessMommy and PrincessDaddy went off for a beer, not understanding what was happening on the TV. We Europeans kept enjoying some of that leftover Merlot and laughing ourselves silly. The Ukrainian group around Verka Serduchka was such a crack-up, I tried to call and vote for them, but only got "technical error". It will probably still show up on my bill.....

The Swedish group, "The Ark", had this gorgeous lead singer with the palindromic pseudonym Ola Salo wearing a mini sequin jacket and a silver bib. He had the body to wear it, too, what a shame they didn't get more points. The Germans, as usual, were down in the cellar with a silly song and strange singer. The winner was Marija Šerifović from Serbia with "Prayer". I had actually heard her on the semi-finals (only listened to two before turning off) and had liked it.

I lost the prediction contest, again, as I tend to write down what I really like in the order I like it. A friend has this perverse knack of knowing what the 500 million others will be liking, he wins every year. But we all get to drink to the winner, so it was a fun evening :)