04 September 2007
Je suis vert !

Tonight I am not a happy camper. For those of you not in the know (and that’s honestly not because I don’t love you, but because I don’t have space for all of you), we’re holding Melanie’s baptism on the 16th. We’ve been really excited about this because finally we're going to be able to baptize one of our children in Marc’s village, in the church his ancestors built, the same church where les Poulot have been baptized for centuries. We weren’t able to do this for either of older monkeys because they hold mass in this church only twice a year and we were never able to line things up to do it there. The 16th is also the village fête, so we’ve got entertainment built right in—rides for everyone! Just what you need after a ‘light’ sit-down, post-sprinkling lunch.

On the 15th of August we had a mini-tempest blow through. It only lasted about ten minutes, but it did a lot of damage. A LOT. Like it ripped up part of the roof on our new house (covered by insurance!! so we weren’t one bit sad about that), broke out windows and punched through shutters all over the place. It was such a strong storm that the stained pillars in the front of our house are no longer stained—they’ve been hail-blasted. But it also hit the roof of the church pretty hard.

Pretty hard…HA! A few of the roof tiles got broken and a few others flew off. So they mayor has all but condemned the place. No Mass. No baptism. We’ve been kicked out of our church and told to go next door. To ANOTHER village.

I’m so pissed off I don’t know what to do. It’s not like we’re going to get another shot at this (oh God, please not). And it’s not like the damn roof is going to fall in on us (I’m not getting married again, ferchrissake—it’s a baptism—not exactly something God would bring the roof down on me for).

All of this for a few roof tiles…

Does this man not realize how many people I now have to call, how many plans will need to be changed…for a few fucking tiles?

I need some booze.

PS—a note to Mme ArtyFartyPants: Who needs you anyway? I managed to locate and fabricate and over-stuff-icate all the lovely, sexy, Dragée bags all by my lonesome! And are they DEE-Lish! Ha! And Melanie says, “Imagine, thinking of choosing an ArtyFartPants for my Godmother so MomsyDarling wouldn’t need to express herself so artistically and put the world to shame! Bwahahaha!” OK, actually what she said was, “Arrrrrrrrrrghrrrrrrrr”, so I’ve interpreted for you because Her Loveliness isn’t feeling particularly articulate today. Love, Her Royal High(ney)ness
 
posted by Doc at 22:19 | Permalink |


5 Comments:


  • At 06:02, Anonymous /anne...

    well - there's always confirmation :-(

    Maybe this is a sign that you should be taking it easy, what with your broken limb and all.

     
  • At 11:08, Blogger jchevais

    Yup. I see what you mean about the Pope laughing. Isn't it "funny" how I chose those exact words...?...

    Fucking tiles... Fucking tempest... Argh.

    Just so you know though... I totally worship you.

     
  • At 22:06, Blogger Samantha

    Dude...I don't even know what to say except that totally sucks. Like you needed even more stuff to add to your plate!

     
  • At 22:22, Blogger ViVi

    Oh well crap. That's just fucking par for the course, isn't it? *sigh* Is there any chance it's going to be available any time soon? Because I don't blame you for waiting.

    And I can't wait to see your sexy and overstufficated dragées! You're way more artsyfartsy than you let on, and you know it. ;)

     
  • At 09:48, Blogger Antipodeesse

    Vivi may want to look at the dragées, but I'll be chomping on them, hehehe!