Decked out in his Christmas outfit, Sebastian receives his first public video appearance. This was really just a test of the software that came with our new camcorder – more video will follow :)

Sebastian is enjoying his new Tibetan lamb skin, Christmas present from grandma and grandpa in Norway.

Sebastian, sleeping.

Sebastian easily looks astonished by the world.

Well, Sebastian, you’d better get used to having two photographers in the family – sooner better than later. I took this photo in the hospital with Ray’s camera (a D300s, which leaves my puny D80 in the dust).

Our first family picture with Sebastian, in the hospital the morning after he was born (he came late at night).

As most who are reading this by now probably will know, on 26 November, Jenna and I became to our beautiful little baby boy Sebastian Johannes. He was 3675 grams, 54 cm long. He cried for a few seconds after he came out and then fell mostly silent, lying on Jenna’s chest, blinking at the bright lights and trying to make sense of his alien, new situation.

Talking on Skype on perhaps her last night of  freedom (though, at the time of writing, this remains to be seen), Jenna can at least enjoy the few perks of carrying a baby: a free stand to rest the microphone on (that’s what the big thing in the picture is), or the TV remote, or even a bowl of cereal.

A bench enmeshed in the golden hues of an autumn afternoon.

We found this gnarly old willow on the banks of the Thames River in London. London, Ontario, that is. There were several other old willows in the park striking grotesque postures.

Middlesex College at the University of Western Ontario.

As documented previously, Jenna and I made a short trip to Paris (from our base in Norway) last September. One way to characterize our two days in the French capital could be as a mad dash to see as many sights as possible, slavishly following a list of must-see attractions (and appropriately ticking them off our list (the Louvre — check)); a typical tourist sojourn, if you will. Short stays in big locations have a tendency to degenerate in this way, when you want to be able to say that you have elevated to the top of the Eiffel Tower, strolled down the Champs-Elysées and beheld, with your very own eyes, the spectacular Notre Dame and the rather diminutive Mona Lisa (Jenna, sadly, was deprived of this pleasure).

Seeing the sights is not a bad thing; that is one of the reasons why Paris is worth visiting. I like to see evidence of history; grand monuments and reminders of great events both good and bad from bygone eras. What matters is whether you enjoy the experience: I’ve done hectic tours with a high return on investment (in terms attractions seen per hour or number of attractions seen divided by total cost of trip) as well, and the company of other travellers can make this a quite enjoyable experience too.

But another legitimate goal of travelling is to experience and enmesh yourself in foreign culture, and food is one of the best kinds of culture (it can be quite yummy). So while the bankers were feasting their way through the anemic (or non-existing) economic recovery following the 2008 recession, we decided to join the feast and eat ourselves through some French culture. France is famous for good food. Paris is the capital of France; therefore Paris must have some good food (this can be confirmed). Cheese, wine, pastries and confectionary — we made our trek through this city into a flight of culinary excess. Our wanderings could very well be described in terms of what restaurants we visited, interspersed by short interludes of calorie burning (sightseeing).

Armed with a couple of reservations and otherwise trusting blind luck to guide us to gastronomic heaven, we arrived in the city in the evening one day in mid-September. We set out right away after we had deposited our suit cases in our rather Spartan (but completely adequate) hotel room to have a late dinner (when on the continent, do as the…ah, well, do it the continental way, and that means late). Soon, we found ourselves in a small and chic restaurant eating a croque-monsieur (Jenna) and pasta with salmon (me) while watching French locals cheer on as their football (soccer) team gave their rival a bruising (can’t remember who they beat). It created a nice atmosphere to eat; fortunately the French boys won, or it might have been different. The moral of this story, of course, is that random events can really heighten your eating experience. Don’t plan, trust in blind luck.

In the rest of the post are some other food experiences, with pictures, but not all (you would lose interest).

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