Time to Wake Up

Those of you who've stuck with me for a while may remember that jet lag is the bane of our existence.  At least of Gene's existence.  We've finally given in and realize that for the first nine, yes really, nine days he will not fall asleep before 4:00 A.M. and thus will not wake before 11:00.  Or later if it's been a particularly bad night.  Last night we had dinner with one of those people who say breezily "oh, I never have jet lag."  I wanted to strangle her.

So I'm sitting here trying to decide whether to wake him or not and "not" is winning.  Poor guy, who says he has to wake up on a sunny Sunday morning when the streets are quiet and the park is calling?

But you don't have to go to the park to have a good time.  These kids are loving the strange fountain sculpture around the corner from our apartment, the metal slabs of which seem to be pavement stones rising up under pressure from a rising spring of water.

No way would this be allowed in the US.  Unfenced?  Slippery slabs just waiting to have someone fall and break a limb or head?  Nor would most of the American parents I know let their kids clamber over it unsupervised.  Yet another culture clash.

My problem with it is when it's cold the water splashed across the sidewalk can ice up and make walking perilous; guess that means I'm old.

I think I hear sounds of someone waking up from the bedroom...