Not including today, 6 more working days until the holiday break. I feel like I’m in school again, counting down the days until Christmas break.
Well, Friday capped Sylvain’s first week at his new job. Except for his unbearably long commute home Friday night, he loves his new job.
He did get home in time for us to catch the 9 o’clock showing of Ocean’s Twelve. The movie was a bit long, but we enjoyed it. It’s such a great ensemble cast. Highlights included (no spoilers here): Matt Damon’s conversation with Robbie Coltrane, Julia Roberts spoofing herself, and the wacky conversations between Brad Pitt and basically anyone.
Saturday we ran errands: grocery shopping, Christmas shopping, car shopping. We bought ourselves some nice heavy wool coats for our visit to Paris & London next week.
I’m getting pretty excited about our trip, especially since I found out that the Tour Eiffel has opened an ice skating rink on the first level. (The first level is already 57 meters high!)
Yesterday, I went to a yoga class – 1st one in months! After class, I told Sylvain that I didn’t particularly care for this instructor since he focused more on meditation than movement (it was really difficult for me to lie in corpse pose for 3 minutes – I started to fidget about after 30 seconds). It was a fairly simple class, lacking incorporation of the not-so-basic poses. Alas, I forget, that it was my first class back in months and now I am sore. One quickly forgets that, though you think you’re not working, you most definitely are.
We got home from the gym, grabbed some juice and breakfast handpies at Creighton’s, and then took Lucie for a walk / run through the woods on Mt. Davidson.
Sylvain spent the afternoon working on stuff and I spent it in the kitchen baking goodies with my mom: gingerbread cookies, peanut butter blossoms and even a pear tart. The gingerbread cookies came out wonderfully (I didn’t realize how involved making gingerbread cookies would be). The peanut butter blossoms came out…okay. They taste fine, they just don’t look like they’re supposed to. (Next year, forego the reduced fat peanut butter and buy the real stuff.) My mom had received a box of pears from Harry and David at work and wanted to incorporate them into a tart of sorts. The pears were unbelievably sweet and juicy – like we had just opened a can of pears. We tweaked the recipe a bit and the tart came out pretty good, a bit juicy, but good.