Broken toe

No school for Louis on Friday morning morning. My doctor saw him, and booked him in for an xray at 14h. He spent the rest of the morning on his bed, catching up with his reading and listening to audio books.

In the afternoon, we went to the hospital, where the xrays showed a fractured middle toe of the left foot. After what seemed a very long time, he was seen by a doctor, given a serious bandage, and a pair of multi-coloured crutches. No sport at all, even swimming, until 18th December. 

When we got home, Louis' godfather Giles had arrived. He had come bearing wonderful gifts for everyone, including a game of BOMB. 

Louis told him all about his day. Sacha has been waiting for ages to show Giles his new tooth.

Giles was full of admiration for Louis' xrays, and for the crutches.

Nick arrived late last night after the boys were asleep.

This morning, I phoned around various chemists in the hopes of hiring a wheelchair, knowing that Nick and Giles were going to be walking about in town. We were lucky, one had just been returned. I know only too well now what a weight Louis is to piggy-back around. He has put on centimetres and kilos in France.

Louis in the wars

Poor Louis has had a bad day today. He fell over in the playground, and skinned his elbow and his knee (luckily fairly well protected by sports clothes as Thursday afternoon is sports afternoon.)

All was well until after supper. Sacha left the table and gave us a very personal version of the French can-can. Louis was enchanted, and wanted to join in with the high-kicks, so he slipped down from his chair, and somehow managed to do a high-kick directly into the oven door. With no slippers on. OH, the agony.


The poor middle toe does look rather red. We have put some soothing ointment on it, and will wait until tomorrow to see whether it merits a visit to the doctor.

Sacha amazed us by his nursing professionalism. He tenderly helped his brother to his bed, tucked him in, with much smoothing of the duvet and pillow, and then selected clothes for Louis to wear tomorrow. Louis, by this time enjoying his invalid status, loved every minute and was an exemplary patient.

Final month

Just one more month to go. The boys' teachers have started lamenting : "They will be going home just before that wonderful moment in February when it all comes together and they really start chattering in French. "

I have promised that the children won't stop speaking French once they are in England, and that the boys will certainly call in to see them whenever they come over to visit us.

Today the swimming went very well. They are both making great progress. Going swimming with Nick twice during his last stay has been a good  stimulus for them.

This afternoon François took over from 4-6p.m. while I went to my Italian lesson. I left the three of them in the Botanic Gardens, and apparently they played until they dropped. Louis and Sacha, that is.

Slates

Not far from Angers is Trélazé, where the  slate quarry museum, le Musée de l'Ardoise is situated. We went there on Sunday afternoon.




The museum is on the site of an old slate quarry. We were given a short tour, and a potted history of  slate quarrying in the region, dating back to at least the 16th century.


It was very interesting for the adults, but the explanations were rather long for the children. Nobody minded when they left the group to  to  run among the leaves and rummage for chips of slate.

We all enjoyed the demonstration of the traditional methods of splitting the slates. A retired slate-worker  armed with wooden mallets, chisels, and huge wooden clogs to protect his feet, expertly sliced off pieces of slate before our very eyes. Many of the houses of this region have roofs made out of slate even today. Ours certainly does.

He told us about his apprenticeship (5 years,) his obligatory nickname, (his was "Rossignol "= Nightingale, although some were given nicknames that were were far more earthbound,)  and the difficult conditions of work. 

Today, the methods of extraction and cutting are far more industrialised and less arduous for the workers. But the older workers miss the traditional ways and gestures. 

The boys were most impressed with the tree-trunk clogs. We helped them to understand some of the stone worker's anecdotes, and they look at the rooftops of Angers with new eyes.

Roundabout

We have been chasing a roundabout around Angers for a couple of weeks now, but it has always eluded us. It is never in the same place for long. Yesterday morning we tracked it down near to the town centre, and made it an excuse for a wander.

First we went to the central Saturday market, and admired the piles of autumn vegetables. We resisted buying very much as the car was parked a long walk away. You have to get up early, and find a place in the nearby underground carpark if you want to fill your trolley and baskets. 

We walked on to the flea market a short walk away, and to our surprise, there was a clarinet for sale. We had just been discussing the instrument with Louis, who is interested in learning to play it. We had passed a music shop, and admired a new clarinet in the window. And now, a few minutes later, here was one going for a song, or more exactly, for 60 euros.

However, we decided to be prudent and wait for Caroline's cousin Annie to give him an expert demonstration of her own instruments and some advice. He will probably borrow one from the school, at least for his first lessons.

We finally reached the roundabout. It had been worth waiting for.