Snow Day! (Kinda.)

It snowed yesterday, and by ‘snow,’ I mean steady, heavy snowflakes the size of quarters.  And by ‘yesterday,’ I mean from when I awoke at 6:45 AM ‘til I stopped staring out the window at 6:30 PM.  All day.  Despite all that constant weather, it barely accumulated: when I finished my last class at 6 PM, slush had just begun forming on the pavement, and I could still see the tips of the grass on the ground.

It's Not Just Me!

Because I’ve done a horrible job keeping up with my life so far — I blame actually living life, and then relaxing from it, and, believe me, I need an excuse not to write — I’ll try from now on to post whenever something interesting happens, or a particularly profound thought sprouts in my head.  That puts less pressure on me to “catch up,” and therefore I feel less of the stress which makes me want to write less.  I will post “flashbacks” to the vacations I have yet to relate, so don’t worry; there will be ample opportunities to laugh at the troubles into which I’ve gotten myself.

So.

It Was the Best of Times . . .

The teachers have kinda formed ranks around me, levels of protection or safety nets to keep me from falling into the abyss of a weekend alone at the school.  One of them will ask what I’m planning for the weekend, and if I accidentally answer, “J’ai rien de prévu” (“I have nothing planned”), then word spreads that the little American girl will be awl awone, and I have five offers by the end of the day.  If they have time for a powwow, which I’m convinced happens while I’m in the bathroom, they’ll present a united front and a coherent plan, and I’ll hear that so-and-so has invited me to stay for the weekend.

Ready . . . Set . . . Vas-y!

That first full week in La Flèche was busier than I thought it would be.  While I spent most of my time profiter-ing du soleil — it was as Indian of a summer as I’d ever seen — by spending most of my free time at the man-made plage by the Lac de la Monnerie, that free time was surprisingly minimal.