punkins

Well, today I bought and carried home a 9 kg pumpkin for 9 euros. 9 kg probably isn't that heavy but it was a 2 mi walk back from the florists. My arms are still shaking! Note: In France, you don't buy pumpkins at the grocery store, unless you're at an open air market and buying them by the slice. You only find them in florist shops, and sometimes even they won't sell them to you (because as I was told today by one prissy florist, they're for decor, not for sale, duh. humph!)

I finally found a suitably big pumpkin and lugged it home, and tomorrow I am announcing a contest to my kids. First we're going to learn emotions, and then whoever designs the best jack'o'latern face gets their design carved into the pumpkin next week (by me, these children are straight thug and cannot be trusted with knives). Hopefully they will be excited. I am! And with 3 classes at St. Maurice, that's 3 faces in the pumpkin. I think it's big enough though.

I would tell you what pumpkin is in French, but my dictionary says potiron and that's NOT what the florists were calling it. Something like citrouille or something with a lot of vowels at the end. I did find out today that a cold is a rhume, and a stuffed up nose is un nez bouché. Soon I will learn "backache" and "allergy to France". Meanwhile it's time to write out the extended version of "if you're happy and you know it clap your hands" and hit the hay.

If you're sad and you know it say boo-hoo,

If you're angry and you know it stamp your feet

If you're confused and you know it scratch your head

If you're surprised and you know it say "oh my!"

If you're allergic to France and you know it... well... tough.