Never mind what I said about May . . .

We awoke again this morning to the drum of rain on the roof and skylights.  It has rained more in the last three days than in the entire rest of our trip (not that I'm complaining . . .).  Some of you may recall that I said, on more than one occasion, that "you'd want to be everywhere in May."  Well, I suppose this is what I get for dissing all of those other months.  OK, February, March, April, and June, I'm sorry.  You can stop punishing me now.  I love you all too.  You're fantastic.  Way better than May, in fact.

We thought, here in Cannes, that we'd be warming up the paparazzi and autograph hounds for the film festival and dining on ocean-view terraces in the waning hours of the warm, sultry evenings.  Instead, we found ourselves hunkered down in a traditional Swiss restaurant the other night, eating fondue and raclette.  Quite an experience for all of us.  I'm sure our faces were amusing to see when they brought the half wheel of cheese over and hooked it up to that ancient work lamp.  Jonah voted this his second best dinner of the entire trip, after, of course, the insane pasta in Chamonix.

During the few breaks in the rainy weather, we have made the effort to get out and be seen on the Croisette, hobnobbing with the movie stars, you know, the usual pre-festival activities.  It was great seeing George especially--it's been such a long time.  He's looking as good as ever.  We haven't had the chance to catch up with Brad and Angie yet, but we're hoping to do lunch with them before we head out of town.

George always seems much taller on screen.  In fact, he's just an inch or so taller than Jonah.

I'm still not sure how Sierra fit those boots into her small suitcase.

Jonah was so happy to see his bud Chewie again!  It seems like it's been light years.