Il neige

We had our first snowfall today - a day after the UK. The Old Lock looks very picturesque, though it got very noisy this afternoon when neighbours and children gathered for a mammoth snowball fight. Learning a language through play is always effective and we mastered a whole new range of vocabulary during the battle. Sadly the boys also learned that schools in France stay open - whatever the weather!

Ignorance is bliss

We have been back for three weeks now and are just settling into a "comfortable" routine. The boys go to school and I spend the day driving the ever-resilient Volvo back and forth along the not-so-comfortable bumpy river road where the potholes are quickly merging into one large pit. On Friday I notched up five round trips and even retained all my fillings. Dan was not so fortunate - and lost a tooth.
Schooldays can be good and bad. There have been tears at lunchtime and laughter too. Each day brings a new challenge and a mountain of homework for all three of us.
This week I have attended parents' evening and my queries were met with much nodding and smiling. The teacher's responses received equal measure. So that's what they mean when they say that ignorance is bliss.
I have also opened a bank account. I think.

First week at school complete

Well, the boys reached the weekend and they are still smiling (occasionally)! They think school in France is  much stricter and that the teachers are much more bad-tempered than they are in the UK. There seems to be a lot of sitting in silence at desks and movement around the class is forbidden. Callum claims that he has not spoken to the boy who sits on the other side of the room because interaction between the children in the classroom is forbidden. Not sure if this is true. Dan, however, does get a chance to work in small groups and is thoroughly enjoying numeracy which has a universal language of its own. Though, for the first time in his school career, he is in a classroom with a traditional blackboard and chalk and is discovering how unpleasant the dust and scratchy-squeakiness can be.
Callum has met his match with his class teacher. She does not take "no" for an answer and is obviously beating him into submission. His handwriting has changed drastically in just one week. This must seem unbelievable for those who know Callum and his ways. However, he seems to have a healthy respect for this lady. He was given extra tuition after school on Tuesday (a long day for a 6 year old that started at 0830 and finished at 1715).  However, on Wednesday I found that he had scrawled a message on our blackboard that read : "40 minute lessons are cool, so Dan you are a fool!"

Armistice Day

The 11th of November is a public holiday in France, so there was no school today. The boys and I donned our poppies and headed down to the War Memorial for the remembrance service. Due to the hour difference the service is held at midday and the silence at 12:11. The Entente Cordiale was in force and it was easy to spot the English. The French do not wear poppies and many of them do not know of their significance. There are no local cadet forces - so the firemen marched with the town band, the mayor, some local elderly stalwarts of military campaigns and a small group of schoolchildren.
Dan and Callum had visited a number of wartime venues of importance during their trip this summer and so they displayed a very mature understanding of the service.
Though I could not help remembering them dressed up as WW1 soldiers and felt I should attach the photo for you to see...

Barge boulangerie

A rainy Sunday in France requires an indoor Entertainments' Officer. The boys mixed schoolwork with playtime and a spot of bread-making (courtesy of a recent River Cottage episode - though in this photo Callum seems to be paying homage to the Naked Chef).

And the results were very tasty indeed...

New School

The day that both boys had been dreading. At 0820 I drove them to Saint Jean de Losne and parked outside the school. The gates were open and children were arriving, carrying massive bags of folders, books and pens. I escorted the boys into the playground and handed them over to a teacher.
Luckily our neighbours' children saw us and came over to welcome the boys. As I left the playground I could see Dan surrounded by girls who swamped him with dozens of questions in high speed french! His strong silence was obviously magnetic.
I returned at 1130 to collect the boys for lunch. They came out with heads held high and declared the morning a minor success. School in France was not so bad. And there was even the chance to play football at breaktime. Dan had made a few friends and Callum had been paired up with our neighbour's daughter who was quite happy to do all his work for him.
We had a chatty lunch at home and then I took them back to school for the afternoon session.
Verdict at the end of the day : school is ok but the teachers are very strict. Both boys are also suitably miffed at constant handwriting corrections. The teachers are not going to accept the cursive script favoured by English schools. Instead, the boys have to produce very flowery, loopy lettering - which is not Callum's idea of fun at all!
And I have homework too. My evenings will now be spent studying what the boys have done in school that day, and prepping up on the next day's work so that I can pre-teach vital concepts. It is already proving to be an interesting pastime as it gives me the chance to compare the French and English approaches to teaching primary school level.

Thank you

Thank you to all our friends and family who welcomed us back to the UK on our recent two week visit. It was wonderful to catch up with so many and the generosity was overwhelming. The boys loved linking up with their friends at school and it was hard to tear them away.
Our two week trip was over too quickly and we had to bid Andy a tearful farewell. He has remained in the UK for the time-being and is busy working and trying to refill the coffers which we enjoyed emptying over the summer months.
The rejuvenated Volvo, laden to the limit, creaked the 600 mile return journey through France to the barge. The boys watched DVDs and I kept a watchful eye on the satnav and the fuel gauge. French fuel strikes meant the roads were blissfully quiet.
We arrived home before dark and all was well.