Paris: Eli

Last Saturday we returned to Paris after spending a week in sun-kissed Vaison-la-Romain, a humble town in Provence surrounded by deep blue montagnes (mountains) and dotted with châteaux, Roman ruins, and family-owned vignobles (vineyards). Seven decades ago, my house-mom's grand-père (grandfather) built a home and a winery just outside of the city. Though the family still harvests grapes for wine, the home now serves as a family getaway from the pulse of Parisian city life. The land is magnifique (magnificent/beautiful), lined with thousands upon thousands of grape vines whose branches weigh heavy with delicate and sweet Syrah grapes-- the sweetest I've tasted. It was a needed break, but I was ready to return to Paris. Too many bugs.

In other news, I've wanted to write about Hugo's nanny for some time now, but I'm afraid I lack the diction to do her justice. Eli, a 29-year-old from Paraguay, is one of the most delightful women I've worked alongside. She speaks Spanish and broken French, so our communication consists of simple vocabulary, laughter, and the occasional frustrated exhale when the boys act out. Thankfully the language barrier has nothing on our teamwork! I especially love being in the kitchen with Eli; she's an incroyable (incredible) cook. The warm, inviting smell of butternut squash soup or simmering lentils may leave the kitchen in a day, but I can only hope her selfless-nature, her creativity, her patience and her eagerness to help will forever stay with me.

Observations:
-Hugo smells perfect after his bath; I could kiss his soft blond curls a million times over.
-Daily my thoughts take me from "I'm having ten kids" to "I'm never having kids."
-Mom-- forgive me for ever complaining when you put a hot meal on the table.
-The chewing gum in France is awful.