The Sweetness of Things

First of all, this is very funny.

And this is very sweet.

Garvins, we were so happy to see you for, like, five seconds on your way back to Washington.

I know September has been just as full for all of you, too. Will started second grade and and Jane junior-k. They are both taking violin through the school, which also means that they're a part of the school symphony, which also means also that I sit in on their lessons each week, which also means that there's a lot of squeaking going on around our house. I'm reminded of two principles: that environment itself can be a teacher--Jane already knows so much about the violin because it's been around in our house for her, through Will. And the principle that repetition turns a conscious act into an intuitive act. What we do over and over eventually becomes a part of us.

This is Will on the first day of school, with me giving him the prompt: Pretend that you are meeting your teacher for the first time, and you have just realized that your teacher is Batman and is going to teach you all you need to know about using the Utility Belt. Both Will and Jane's teachers are superawesome, and they feel confident enough in their surroundings that they decided, after Travis dropped them off, to take a tour through the school and enter their classrooms 30 minutes late one day. Which we had to address. They are both taking French, and so we are eeking out un petit peu de francais, en famille.

Eh, but forget about all of that. The main thing is that, while the boys went to the BYU game last night, Jane and I had a revelatory chocolate bouchon at a cute local French bakery called Tulie. So good was this little burst of heaven that we ate in silence until I said, "Jane, this makes me think of happy fall days walking through Paris" and Jane said "this makes me think: yum."

The bouchon is aptly named for its being roughly shaped like an oversized wine cork. Sitting tall and unpretentious yet with slightly smug aplomb, it offers a crusty outside and gooey molten middle. So inspired we were by this little pastry wonder, we made a special trip to Sur La Table for a mini popover pan just to recreate them at home. And we did. With Charles Tournet music in the background, like in Something's Gotta Give--and I pretended I was in some Nancy Myers movie, only I had to clean up the dishes at the end. And we kind of chocolated ourselves out after so many bites. And the kids are kind of grumpy today after a late bedtime. But it's all worth the sweetness.