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my baby blog 1.0
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I have been keeping a diary more or less regularly for the last 26 years . For whom ? Why ?
Aren’t we all made of the same stuff ?
The web page devoted to my father made me realize a short while ago that feelings, no matter how intimate are also universal.
And so, following  « blog » fashion and instigated by my new life as a father, this on-line journal is to succeed the previous one.


Keeping up with the rules, I have adopted the 'anachronological' order, illustrating my proposals with photos and hypertext links whenever possible, and I also intend publishing any comments which are sent to me on
mentioning the place you want them to appear.


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25th november 2006:
"Nothing is less eternal than the dawn of life" sings Renaud in his last album which I listen to on my mp3 player. It's crazy to what extent I am already under the impression of feeling this nostalgia when you have hardly blown out the candles on your 2nd birthday cake with a high tempearature and really bad earache for a present. I have to say that your all in one sleep suit has recently been put away and the little sleeping bag is in the cardboard box in the cellar and your mum has already started looking at big beds for you in catalogues..
Without hardly noticing itm we have now swung round from baby items to education. And from now on we have to cunningly manage your little personality.
Not giving in too much when you want to watch the telly even if your mum being an expert in these things picks out the very best cartoon such as "potato and his vegetable patch" which you demand in all different ways. As far as possible we try and watch the little screen with you, viewing the whole series of Barbapapas for the 20th time..
The computer screen also holds all your attention as we can no longer light up the screen without you coming over and asking for "goldfish! cuckoo! whale!" referring to your preferred website: poissonrouge.com
And you should see you get hold of the mouse, click on the fish, unstick the balls or draw your favourite animals in the excellent educational programme for Linux gcompris, not forgetting of course, the video of papa pingouin on YouTube  or le superb site chezpolo.com
After just two years of living together, I find it hard to remember what life was like without you...


30 ans...1st November 2006
"the salmon syndrome", this is what took us during the November holidays to the places where I went on holiday when I was a kid.
L'hôtel Régina hasn't changed too much, no more than la Bourbole, a small picturesque town in Puy-de-Dome.
We've already seen it on the cinema screens: the old grandad visiting his past shuffling along in the rain with movement enhancers and artistic fuzz. It works every time!
Well I have to say it gives me such  pleasure to go back to the places which I visited with my dad and mum, le pool where I must have spent hundreds of hours, sailing my little boat.
Today I sit on the same edge where I wore my shorts out, I lift you up on to my knee to show you how to manouver the remote control of your motor boat. You don't seem to be as excited as I was at that time, so what ?..
Thirty years have ran by, I now have grey patches and a weather worn face, signs announcing  shipwreck towards desenchantement. But since you've shared our lives, nothing is as before and I get the impression that I've found new youth rediscovering the world through your eyes.
I never imagined that life could be so brilliant...


baby brain gym
20th september 2006
Man it would appear is a social animal and on account of this gregarious instinct, in less than a year, you will find yourself surrounded with about 30 other uprooted children like you piling up blocks and drwing parallel lines and be watched over by a teacher who will be not as  beautiful as your mum.
To prepare you for this trial, we have decided to so-cia-li-ze you:
éveil musical anglophone  on Tuesday mornings,
baby-brain-gym on Wednesdays to help the development of your socio-educational skills by learning methods founded on educational kinesilogy - sic - not forgetting of course laterilisation which is indispensable for your tiny brain (translate as they'll teach you to crawl).
Week after week, I let go of your hand and then go away afrom you slowly, with death in my heart at the idea of this crazy project - leving you soon, all alone in the middle of this meute....
Such stupidities, it's so good with just the three of us !


 20th August 2006
After the heatwave in Ankara, we are in a liitle mountain chalet in East Turkey, previously secondary residence of your late grandfather who died last year grand-père décédé l'an passé, where  what is left of his past life has accumulated
une vie ! ever since. From a heap of cardboard boxes, we extract hundreds of videos recorded in the four corners of the planet and filed with a goldsmiths precision thousands of slides showing faithfully  this former World Health Organisation Doctor's life, boxes overflowing with sepia photos and kilometers of tape illegible on updated tape-recorders.
All this makes me so miserable: that's all that's left of a life: shelves full of all sorts of recordings that no-one will ever have either courage or patience to look at or to listen to even a hundredth.
So we scrupulously pile up all these slices of his life, delegating the task or throwing it all away to the next generation>
This unavoidably makes me think of my own boxes of slides which wisely gather dust in the garage. Will I ever look at them even one more time ?
In spite of this, all of us feverishly pull out our starters with a reasuring illusion of thus commanding time. Even more so since the advent of digital technology which makes snaps so much easier and considerably reduces costs. And so, on Cd and DVD, our lives will fit into a simple pouch... but in 30 or 50 years will there be machines to read present JPG and AVI formats ? Nothing is less sure...
Let's go, come on son, let's forget about all that and let's go and run through fields, breathe in fresh morning air and let me once more hold you tightly in my arms...


10th August 2006
During the month of August, while your mother stays is Montpellier to work, you and I leave to visit your family at the other side of Bosphore. And so, from one day to the next, you find your self in a n'tew house, surrounded by loving
perdu... people but whose faces you don't remember.
With your dummy and Igor your bear, I am your only reference point and it's an understatement saying that you cling to me and don't leave me at all. Since we arrived in Ankara, you play at pilot fish, permanently checking that I am in your field of vision. And what a surprise I got, when the other night, I got up to relieve a natural need and found you standing in the dark, clutching Igor, anxiously waiting for me to come out of the bathroom. I want to reassure you thus giving myself a few moments of pure happiness: I take you up in my arms then I lie on my back and keep you straddled over my chest until you go to sleep drunk with me stroking you and kissing you on the neck..
I have to admit, this situation fills me with pride, even if, as usual and maybe even more during those moments, I fear the day when unavoidably we'll have to warrierize you to life in society.


20 juillet 2006:

excitationMoi qui ai toujours eu une aversion prononcée pour le shopping et la consommation d'une manière générale, je me suis surpris aujourd'hui à parcourir avec frénésie les allées d'un magasin de jouets à la recherche de ce qui te ferait plaisir, essayant d'anticiper tes réactions devant la quinzaine de petites voitures Majorette, l'ardoise magique où le kit de pâte à modeler qui ont retenu notre attention.
Et il faut te voir, en effet pousser des Ohhh... et des Ouahh !... lorsqu'on sort les paquets, puis glapir de plaisir en grimaçant d'excitation lorsque tu découvres les jouets en question.

On a beau le savoir, l'avoir déjà lu et entendu, lorsqu'après seulement 20 mois d'existence, tu commences à balbutier tes premières phrases, on ne peut qu'être émerveillé:
Montrant timidement une grosse fourmi: "j'ai peu'  ça pique..." ou lors d'une quelconque contrariété: "Oh non... pas ça...".
Par ailleurs, tu n'es pas en reste avec le Turc, ta langue maternelle, puisque dès qu'un emballage te résiste, tu nous l'apportes en répétant "aç onu" -ouvre-le.


5th July 2006
Yesterday I watched Woody Allen's "Hannah and her sisters".
As 15 years previously, I remembered above all else, the sequence when the hypochondriac hero learns that the brain tumour which he has invented isn't one.

meaning of life ?

Liberated, he bounds around in the street then stops petrified when he realises that in spite of everything he is condemned by his human condition only a bit more long term and that life is no less vain.
When I was 20, this film and this scene had marked me profoundly. Henceforward, although I wasn't totally insensitive to it, I have to say that it made me smile in a pleasant way but hardly more than that.
I think, son, that your presence contributes something to this new way of looking at things. It is so true that my life at present with the intense moments that I try and describe on this page has suddenly become full of meaning.
I won't mention aims or missions for fear of brrowing from religious rhetoric but I have to state that our existence is entirely devoted to you and given meaning by you.
Metaphysical considerations about death and the meaning of our lives become secondary issures.
It seems to me in fact, that the end of the film where a plan to have a child emerges, goes slightlly in the same direction.
Maybe wisdom is also this.


fraissinet23rd June 2006
It would be vain to pretend not to be scared.
Leaving the house, in the car, when walking along the track and right up to the foot of the track where I religiously don my climbing gear, I am even scared shitless.
"Man discovers himself when he measures himself against obstacles" wrote st.Exupery, this should help me to overcome my apprehension and give a bit of a literary varnish to this prolog
 
Fortunately from the first clip point, all goes smoothly in a pleasant and comforting routine: The first length is climbed "leading" self-assured round the chest by a gri-gri surmoungted by a pulley. Once the end of the rope is reached, you absail down via the same itinerary to undo the rope which was attached at the attack de la voie. Then you go off again"second" in command, with an autoblocker to recuperate the equipment   which has been placed. Then off you go on the second length applying the same principle.. Solo climbing is much more contraignant than with two people, but delivers unsuspected pleasures to who wants to seize them.
sur la vire
Having left St. Guilhem-le-Desert at 06.00p.m. I reach the median path which I have chosen to spend the night.
In spite of this late hour, I still have a good hour of daylight ahead of me. I abandon my rucksack on the "vire" (shelf ?) and go off immediately to equip the next length. Then getting out will be much easier the following morning and if I get off before dawn, I'll see the sunrise on the top. I will then try and get back home before 08h00 a.m. Then I will maybe be lucky enough to see the sunrise a second time..
In the last lights of day, " attached but free" I feel as if I have Patrick Berhault's soul. Climbing, nights under the stars, improvised camping to see the sunrise, all the stupid things I did when I was 17 with a kind of drunkenness that I was afraid of losing later on.. At nearly 40, I am delighted to remain faithful to my first teenage loves, while still honouring those of today.
It's 10.00 p.m. when I absail down to my Eagle's eyrie. The stars are beginning to bejewel the sky whilst 100 metres further down, the frogs concert croaks on without ever stopping.
I pull 3 metres loose on the rope so that I can get into my sleeping bag whilst still tied on, contemplate once more the sparse scribbling in my book and lie down in the freshness of the night.
I miss your mother and you and I am happy about it.



22nd May 2006
Just recently, when we go out for a walk round town, you decide where to walk, proudly zigzagging from a plane tree leaf to a stone and from a squashed butt end to a dog poo.
Yesterday on our Sunday outing, I was attracted by a woman who tenderly watched our little turn. I smiled knowingly and heard her say "Make the most of it, really make the most of it!"...
"Oh Yes, I said, I will!.
It's the sort of event, which astonishingly, gives me more energy than ever to keep up this on line diary in spite of all the doubts that overcome me at times. For it is not harmless thus to deliver oneself up to the Web. It is so much more reassuring to contemplate one's navel and write to one's self as I did for so many years.
But life goes by so quickly, that it seems to me now less frustrating to share this expereince and the emotions tied up with it.
But of course, on the Web, there is the fear of being read by thick idiots, of being ridiculised, but against all hope, a safe control seems to operate thanks to wikipedia  which in spite of total freedom which is given to surfers to modify the contents of the site, only brings out the best contributions.
Rare are the messages I receive, always anonymous from thickies. Most of them are very nice  and comfort me in my natural inclination towards sharing this experienceofpaternity which is at the same time so ordianry and so beautiful.
However, one day I'll have to resign myself to closing this blog when you start getting hairy legs and that you no doubt won't appreciate your girlfirends seeing you in nappies. I will go bak then no doubt to more solitary writing or will find another way of telling you how much I love you.



le tour du pâté de maison


3 mai 2006:

Premier tour du pâté de maison à pied sous le regard bienveillant de grand-maman et papa...
Je ne peux m'empêcher de voir à travers cette balade dérisoire la préfiguration de tes randonnées et expéditions à venir.
Le monde est plein de merveilles et de surprises qui te raviront, mon enfant adoré.
Mais dans le même temps, à l'instar du papa de Nemo dans le film du même nom, je redoute tous ses dangers cachés...
C'est tellement beau mais pas si simple d'aimer un enfant.


23 avril 2006:
Il n'est pas chose facile que d'analyser les raisons du bonheur. Nous sommes d'ailleurs si habitués à le traquer qu'onbonheur s'aperçoit rarement qu'il est là, tout près de nous...
On le reconnaît trop souvent, comme dit le poète, au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va. Pourtant, avec toi mon pépère, le bonheur est si présent qu'il faudrait être dingue pour ne pas le sentir.
Alors pourquoi tu nous fais fondre ?
Par ton innocence peut-être,  lorsque tu exhibes tes bourrelets en pétant joyeusement. Les notions de gêne, de respect ou de pudeur qui règlent légitimement nos vies comme des horloges te sont encore si étrangères que nous en sommes amusés et attendris à la fois.
Pour toi, point n'est besoin de cours d'art dramatique pour passer en quelques secondes du sourire aux larmes dès les dernières gouttes de ton biberon - au moment où je tape ces lignes, quelques semaines après les avoir écrites, tu as déjà perdu cette délicieuse habitude, une de plus à ranger déjà au rayon des souvenirs...
L'inconscience est sans doute aussi de la partie. Lorsque tu es content, aucun nuage ne vient ternir ta félicité. Tout cela est pourtant si fragile... mais tu l'ignores, Dieu merci, tout comme la bêtise, si typiquement humaine pourtant. Puisses-tu l'éviter le plus longtemps possible...
Et pourquoi ne pas se l'avouer aussi: parce que tu nous ressembles et que tu nous renvoies à ce qu'il y a de plus pur en nous.
Enfin par la tendresse avec laquelle tu saisis mon index pour marcher à mes côtés et le miel dans ton regard lorsque tu te blottis contre moi en clamant "babaaa..."

Tous ces moments, délicieux entre tous, je me les repasse en boucle, sur l'écran de mon appareil numérique dès que je m'accorde une petite pause, ou simplement en fermant les paupières, tu es là, accroché pour toujours dans un coin de mon cerveau.
C'est presque effrayant tant je t'aime... J'ai peur que tout ce bonheur ne dure pas.




premiers pasLe symbole est trop beau pour ne pas s'y arrêter: C'est aujourd'hui, 3 février 2006, que tu as fait tes premiers pas. "Il était temps" disent certains, à bientôt 16 mois... En ce qui me concerne, mon incroyable propension à la nostalgie me fait déjà presque regretter tes reptations maladroites. Non, je ne suis pas impatient de voir tomber tes délicieuses dents de lait, de te voir partir à l'école et nous ramener de charmants colliers de nouilles. Reste là mon poupon adoré, on est si bien ensembles...
Pourtant, je ne connais que trop la rudesse du monde auquel il nous faudra bientôt te livrer. Devrais-je pour autant me résigner à "t'endurcir" face à cette perspective ? Je m'y refuse -pour l'instant... Cela me rappelle un film de Cousteau où l'équipe de La Calypso, après avoir fait copain-copain avec un banc de dauphins, quittait ces joyeux mammifères à coups de harpons, afin de les prémunir, disaient-ils, d'un excès de sympathie face à de nouveaux visiteurs aux intentions moins pacifiques...


15 janvier 2006:
Tout va si vite... Je m'émerveillais récemment de ta traversée du salon façon-commando en 20 minutes. Désormais, tu sillonnes la maison à quatre pattes et à toute allure. Qu'un meuble passe à ta portée et tu te dresses sur tes pieds en lâchant même les mains pour peu qu'un biscuit convoité te fasse oublier le risque de gamelle.
Mais au delà de tes progrès techniques, le merveilleux c'est cette complicité croissante qui s'installe entre nous jour après jour...


10 janvier 2006:
Certains films résonnent en nous d'une singulière façon. Il en est ainsi de "Brokeback mountain" qui réveille en moi le souvenir de ces années marquées par le sentiment persistant de passer à côté de la vie.
Il ne s'agit bien pour moi que de souvenirs.
Contrairement aux héros du film, aujourd'hui, pour peu que ta mère et toi soyez à mes côtés, je n'ai plus à chercher le bonheur ailleurs. La vie est là. Tout ce que l'on fait, d'où on vient, où on va et avec qui n'est qu'accessoire...

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