Giverny: Monet's Water Gardens

Claude Monet, impressionist painter extraordinaire:

He is probably best known for his "Water Lilies" paintings. Those paintings, as most impressionist art, were his own interpretations (or impressions, if you will) of real objects. That real object was his own water garden surrounding his home in Giverny, about an hour from Paris by train, near Rouen, home of the cathedral that Monet loved to paint. It was located in a charming small town:

And you can imagine, after an hour-long train ride, a 15 minutes bus ride, and 10 minute walk, and a long line for tickets that pregnant Keeley and nursing Rachel were SO relieved to see this sign:

Once we took care of that, we thoroughly enjoyed the flowers (some quite fascinating, in my opinion) in the traditional garden:

Then we crossed the road to tour the Japanese water gardens:

We toured his home:

And were mesmerized by the weirdest looking chickens I've ever seen:

Unfortunately, it was my last day trip with Keeley, who has since moved back to Dallas (so sad for me!!). And, in usual Rachel/Keeley fashion, we didn't even get a picture together! :( Oh well, many wonderful memories made and documented... you are missed already, friend!

Uncle Rhys

To carry on the tradition (see Uncle Richard), I give you another post devoted to two beloved men in my life: my big brother, and my firstborn son. What could be more special?? Rhys came to visit (from Italy, where he is serving with the US Army), and we had a wonderful, laid-back weekend. I am SO glad he was able to come (because who knows how long it will be before we're ready to travel to Italy with Oliver...), and SO thrilled to see Oliver with his Uncle Rhys:

And, I'm proud to say, that despite the fact that EVERYONE seems to think that Oliver looks like his dad (which is not a bad thing, of course), you can't tell me he doesn't look like his uncle in these pictures (and it's not just the bald thing, either):

And that, I believe, means that he must look like me, too, since Rhys and I are practically twins (if you don't believe me, see the picture in front of the Arc de Triomphe here). So, yes, this is my desperate attempt to prove that my son shares features with me other than his incessant hiccups and ability to spread his toes and flip his tongue.

'Partment Photo Shoot

No, 'partment is not a real word; I just wanted some alliteration with my previous post, Park Photo Shoot (because yes, I am a dork). Again, my son indulged me in what is becoming TWO of my favorite pastimes - photography and him. Why can't I be this photogenic?!?!?!

Looking sweet:

And making faces:

Park Photo Shoot

Is anyone reading this blog? Or am I just indulging my own fantasies that my son is THE most ADORABLE child EVER (no offense intended to anyone else's children, of course). Seriously, let me know if you're reading this; it will make me feel better.

Anyway, back to my completely objective, unbiased view that my child is precious... Here is the result of a little photo shoot taken in the park by our house the other day. Check out the way he works multiple emotions - a model in the making?

The intense yet subtle gaze into the camera:

Flashing the pearly whites (oh wait, he has none yet...):

The off-camera, artsy look:

And last, but certainly not least, the wink:

Paxton Visit: Part 2

As promised... The second weekend with the Paxtons was especially fun for us because we did things that we had never done before. Saturday began with a trip outside of Paris to visit a 13th century monastery, founded by Louis IX, the one who built St. Chapelle in Paris. The monastery is accessible by car, but the nearest train station is more than 2 miles away. Since we don't have a car here, though, we decided to follow the advice of our Hour from Paris book again and take the walk. I'm so glad we did. We walked through a small town, woods, and fields and even passed an equestrian center. It was a lovely break from the city:

The monastery itself was beautiful, with immaculate landscaping and reflective canals:

The church had been mostly destroyed during the revolution...

But the cloister and other buildings were still in tact.

We did manage to snap a couple of shots of all 5 of us:

And Oliver was an ANGEL the whole day!

Except for a few minutes while we waited for the train, but in his defense, it was past his dinner time...

That evening we walked past the Hotel de Ville where they were having a concert and across to the Ile de la Cite, lit up beautifully as usual.

Sunday was mostly devoted to the Tour de France. Rather than join the thousands of people at the finish line (where, I'm guessing, we wouldn't have been able to see much anyway), we found a bridge in Paris along the route. Although we had to wait a lot longer than any of us expected, we played around with the camera to help pass the time.

Eventually, a big parade of advertisements came by. Entertaining, but no Lance Armstrong.

Finally, the riders made their appearance, with the leading team out front.

After that experience (which was, unfortunately, rather short lived... the riders came and went in under 2 minutes), we visited Montmartre, the Bohemian center for arts and music, and joined the many people on the steps of Sacre Coeur.

From there, we enjoyed the view of Paris below...

Wandered the steep streets...

Visited the home of Erik Satie, French composer and pianist...

And sat a spell in front of Picasso's former home.

We were SO sad to see them go, but thankful for the time they had here!