La Photo Mystère

Isn't this a great shot that Pops took? How many of us can you find ...

**ps- This was taken at Chateau de Sassy. How awesome is that.

Loved Ones and New Days

I love this photo of Pops and his Dad. Like the two of them, it says so much with out saying much at all.

We were most blessed to have my in-laws come for a springtime stay this past month. They brought gifts from the States (English magazines, candy, and steel-cut oats were the height of excitement!), as well as love and hugs and affection. It feels good to be loved on by friends and family when living halfway across the world.

The weather while they were here was unbelievably beautiful and sunny, making for lunches outside, promenades to see the creek and the cows and rousing games of demolition petanque (Like a kamakaze bocci ball sort of game that the menfolk devised. Stay alert. That's's my advice ... stay alert.).

Whilst here, we also took a rather epic train trip to the northern Ligurian area of Italy. We had three connections each way and anyone who has traveled by European rail knows that it's no joke. The train roles in and you have 2-3 minutes to locate the correct car and board with all 7 seven people in your party plus luggage and bags ... while dodging other travelers, trying to discern all of the directions in foreign languages, and keeping the family circus intact and alive. It's intense.

I have some lovely photos and memories to post for posterity on our time in Italy. It was beautiful, as Italy insists on. I did, however, manage to develop a pretty severe migraine while there that kept me in bed a bit and set me back some. It's two weeks on and I am still avoiding light (and the computer), napping and into bed by early evening. It's a bummer, but whatdya gonna do. Needless to say, lengthy blogging time will come later.

Have any of you had an illness or setback while traveling or during a big event? Found that you had to readjust expectations? Find new ways to trust and pray and be thankful? It seems I've had basket-full of health challenges and issues these past couple of years and it can get me down when they flare. But it also pushes me to pray more for others ... because I get so sick of thinking about how I feel, blah, blah, blah. And always ... this is a good and rich thing.

Happy springtime.

Light is sweet; how pleasant to see a new day dawning. 

Ecclesiastes 11:7

Joyeuses Pâques and Happy Celebrations

 Easter Sunday is one of my favorite holidays. The celebration of Christ's resurrection, the newness and possibility of spring, the chance to celebrate and be together as family.

And while our holiday experiences as expats are different than when we are "at home" and have put some well-loved traditions on hold, we continue to find joy and unexpected blessings in our time here. Like finding this easter basket delivered in the wee morning hours by the darling and generous Madame S.

And even though the children are getting older by the minute ... there was no question that they were up for a pre-church chocolate hunt. (Did you know that bells bring the chocolate instead of bunnies in France? I am told that it is because the bells are silent from Good Friday until Easter Sunday, when they ring to announce "He is Risen!" Naturally, in celebration ... the les cloches must bring chocolate!)

 Does one ever really out-grow hunts? There is an undeniable thrill at finding and racing and scavenging!

And, ahem. Can we just for a moment comment on how sharp Pops looks!

This year, the bells passed over La Cressonnière and left chocolate Euros! Fancy that!

Another Easter to rejoice in ... and marvel at how the kids have grown!

Joyeuses Pâques and Happy Easter!

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! 

According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope 

through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 

to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading,

kept in heaven for you .

1 Peter 1:3-4

To Buy a Bit of Sun on an Overcast Day

And just like that the sun is gone and we are all bundled up and skittering about once more. But without fail, les marchés still open and offer up ideas for meals and treats and dreams. I am quite sure this fruit did not come from Normandy, but nevertheless, I bought a kilo of strawberries that were delicious and tasted like sunny days.

Springtime Arrives in Normandy!

Oh, we have never anticipated spring like this before! It was a long, dark, coooold winter but springtime has arrived and the sun-breaks and roadside daffodils are leaving us rhapsodic. 

Fishing season has just begun, as well, and we must acquire that fishing license for Peter. Turn left out the gate, down past the miniature ponies (affectionately named Hoss and Voss), wave bonjour to Madame Lucienne, and at the creek you arrive. Perfect place for a young man to fish ... and a trailing sister to gather more daffodils ...

So be truly glad ...

I used to think I wasn't a fan of change. But then, so many of my best decisions have elicited massive life alterations.

Perhaps I actually like change. I do like new perspectives and experiences. What I seem to be realizing is that change isn't really the issue ... it's the uncertainty that precedes it.

I perceive uncertainty as a loss of security. A free-fall of expectations and understanding. A crooked finger beckoning one through a worm-hole of disaster ...

These last months we've been tetering on the edge of more uncertainty. Despite a track-record of God's abundant provision, I found myself swirling in mental firestorm of worst-case scenarios. And to fan the flames, there have been multiple needs that have arisen requiring me to ask for help. As in, I literally cannot do this on my own. It's an uncomfortable sensation, especially when you know that you can't level the scales because you have virtually nothing to offer in return ... but more neediness.

 However. This last week, I received two meaty "you can do it" emails from friends, a care-package in the mail, an extravagant offer for assistance "on the ground," and invitation for dinner that was generous beyond description. People reaching out to meet my needs and serve our family without asking for anything in return.

And I said "yes, please" to all of them.

That dinner? At the home of some friends that we've only known since just before Christmas, but their continual kindness and generosity has put our friendship on the fast-track. They are intelligent, fascinating, curious and exceedingly intuitive about what would bless us.

 After they offered a lovely aperitif, we were introduced to "La Raclette." Using a little grill with a broiler on the underside, you toast up slices of raclette cheese in a little dish and then proceed to accompany it with all measures of coldcuts, dried meats, potatoes, and delights such as an endive salad made with pear, walnuts, and roquefort cheese. 

 Oh. And I haven't a photo, but there was a dish called a pissaladière, which is basically a savory tart on homemade bread dough with a topping of onions sauteed in butter and olive oil and anchovies, and after cutting into squares, topped with a Greek black olive. I so get the culinary use of anchovies now. It took the flavors to a whole new level.

I considered sliding the plateful into my purse.

And then there was dessert. An un-pictured apple crumble to honor our American roots (but was frankly better than a lot of crumble I've had in the States) and also the above snapshot of caneléis.  Just ever-so-slightly-custardy in the center and the exterior, a crown of caramelized delight.

I definitely should have brought a bigger purse.

 Afterwards we enjoyed the sun-breaks for a walk in the nearby park and more conversation. The men discussed all things WWII and global politics with great delight and the ladies and kids delighted in our own version of pleasant conversation and discovery. (My friend laughed when she discovered Jane's braids were "French braids." They call them "African braids." Say what?!)

I am constantly fighting against the rage of uncertainty. And change, even good change, is rarely easy. And it is still so uncomfortable being the "needy people."

But all of these elements are bringing us experiences and challenges ... and people ... that leave me feeling incredibly honored.

Being needy, requires uncertain circumstances ... and opens up skyline of possibilities to be blessed in ways otherwise fully unachievable. And in that, the hope of being used, somehow, in spite of my deficiencies, as a blessing in return.

So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, 

even though you must endure many trials for a little while. 

I Peter 1:6

Jane Goes to a Birthday Party

Jane was invited to a birthday party today. They played cache-cache and who doesn't love hide-and-seek. Especially when you can hide behind a giant mill-stone.

She and I were both nervous about the event today. Because, obviously ... it would be in French. Which, obviously ... meant we'd have to talk to people ... in French.

But we went. And the hostess was very gracious and warm and understanding. 

And it was in a village called Silly-en-Gouffern. How fantastic is that name?!

And much like back home, the girls laughed and played. They opened gifts and had a simple, beautiful, homemade cake that was nothing short of perfection.

When it was concluded, we were both tired. But it was worth it. And it has become one more thing to look to each other and reply: "We did it!"

And that makes me very happy.

Late Night Worries and Cranky Indignation

Last night Pops wanted to go to sleep. My body did too ... but my brain would not comply.

"You know I have to process verbally," I reminded him. "I have to unload some of the detritus that is clogging up my brain." He sighed with understanding, head on the pillow, staring straight up at the ceiling while I proceeded to impale him with worries, anxieties, deep-set fears, and unnecessary minutia.

At some point he fell asleep, perhaps lulled by my soothing and comforting words of low-grade hysteria. Since I wasn't actually mad at him, I didn't have it in me to jab an elbow into his ribs and proceed to flop and huff in martyrdom. Standard procedure. You know the drill.

So I was left alone with my noisy brain, swirling in thought-tornadoes, mocking my attempt to demand order. The digital clock read "00:23." Blast it. Why can't it just say "12:23." Stupid 24-hour clock. Stupid France making me remember that when someone says "dix-sept heure quarante-cinq" it is 17h45, which is really just 5:45pm. Stupid brain for taking so long to be able to mentally translate and constantly leaving me standing like an addled fluff head.

Pfft.

I didn't know what to do next. I had some really good indignation whipped up, but I was definitely too lazy to leave bed. My feet were warm and all.

So I grabbed some paper and a pen. Scratch that. A pen was next to me, but I spied the pad of paper just out of my reach. Naturally, I entered into some I-still-won't-leave-the-bed acrobatics and hand-walked myself three-feet across the floor, bum high in the air, and did a twisty-lunge that should only be attempted by people at least 15 years younger than myself. But I got the paper. And my feet stayed warm under the covers.

I look to my left. Pops slept through all of that? Pfft.

Armed with paper, pen, a crick in my back and my fiery vexation, I set to work on what I do so very well:

Make a list.

And did I ever make a list. A list of every. single. thing that was flapping about in my beautiful mind-palace/thought-tornado. It didn't matter how big (Children's well-being at school), or how small (Find out the name of that cheese that was so good),  or how worthy (Prioritize quiet-time and prayer), or how unpalatable (Call for plumber again because the septic system still wafts the perfume of eau d'rotting-vegetable-baby-diaper-soured-garbage-decomposing-poop-sludge).

And can I just say? I was awesome at it. I filled up a page before the clock could blink stupid 00:30-o'clock at me. I was on fire. I wrote and wrote and listed and wrote ... until I ran out of crazy and realized I was bored ... and started looking at Pinterest on my phone.

I looked to my right. Stupid 00:56 o'clock.

And I went to sleep ...


I woke up this morning and the list was still there. And I was still concerned about all the things on my list. And am still in a-swirl about how I am going to manage everything. But I spit in the eye of my thought-storm by making it submit to my lists. Somehow, having all of my crazy on paper makes me feel like I don't have to keep it afloat in my brain. Anyone else like this?

I think I have crossed off 3 things from my list of 427,000 today. And our bathroom still smells like poop. And I prayed some, but not enough this morning. And the children are still on vacation and seem well-enough right now. And I still don't know the name of that cheese.

And that is my day today. And it's okay. And I plan on watching Downton Abbey tonight, eating chocolate, complaining that I ate too much chocolate ... and then going right to sleep. (At 22h30 stupid-o'clock.) Amen.

Love, Bises, and one more Pfft. For good measure.
xoxo
A.

A Trip to Belgium and Kitchen Supplies

The kids are on winter vacance and we just returned from a quick trip to Bruges, Belgium. A quick trip to Belgium! I am still in awe that in four hours we can be in a completely different country, different language, different architecture and food and culture.

Speaking of, the brilliant Belgians speak their native Flemish-Dutch, English, French and typically some German. And they do it beauuutifully. I was so impressed. We didn't even bother with our sloppy French because everyone spoke English so flawlessly. (And that element alone made the vacation fun!)

Unfortunately, I managed to forget my camera, but I did take some snaps on my phone that I hope to cull through shortly. In the meantime, I am set to go tidy the kitchen after a impressive baking session by the girls. I am equipped with a few fun supplies we picked up at "Dille & Kamille." Oh goodness, the girls and I were enraptured!

An Anniversary and a Lunch Together: French Style

As, I've mentioned before, I really don't need a huge fuss in order to celebrate special occasions. However, I am a firm believer in celebrations in general! It's good to recognize another year accomplished, goal met, moment passed. 

Today we are celebrating our 17th wedding anniversary! Every year feels like an accomplishment to be proud of and to be thankful for. We've had our bumps and bruises to get us where we are and I don't take it for granted that we have shared another year together. 

To mark our event, we decided that an anniversary lunch was in order. It is lovely to have children old enough to be home alone for a period of time. But of course, we still must review and make the children recite the "emergency procedures" (Option 1: Run next door to Madame Lucienne's and she'll come help. Don't worry about your French. Option 2: Call the emergency number and they'll figure out there is a problem. Don't worry about your French. It's like Lassie. Bark frantically enough and they'll follow you to the problem.). 

This afternoon, we drove downtown to a little Brasserie that serves a very reasonable and delicious 3-course déjeuner (lunch) as standard fare. I love that three courses for lunch is a normal thing, even out in the French countryside. Very often, French restaurants will have a pre-assembled lunch menu. You have an option for each course and they are all designed to fit with each other. The first course is called the entrée (Their version of our "appetizer." Who knows why we call the main dish an "entrée." It's an "entry" into the meal.) Next is the "plat" (main dish) and then the dessert. Sometimes wine is included, other times it is an add-on. Un café is always encouraged at the end of the meal.

The courses are brought out one at a time, giving you ample opportunity to relax into the experience and strike up some great conversations with your lunch partner. Take your time! You are never hustled out to make room for the next diners. It is assumed that the table is yours for the whole of the lunch service. (Perhaps this is why reservations, even for lunch, are recommended.) It will be a beautiful, well-prepared meal, that will leave you satisfied and, in our experience, costs no more than an lunch out in the States. 

Our lunch was delightful and on the way home, we passed a floral shop and my mister bought some roses for his gal. Are you like me? Do simple things like a lunch out and handful of flowers make your heart sing? Do you prefer to keep it even more simple than this? Do you like a big splash? Do you celebrate some years but not others? Would you like to try a French-style lunch or does it sound like a fussy hassle? 

Celebrations are so personal and unique. We all have to find our own rhythm for these occasions. But today ... I am happy to be celebrating by enjoying the day with Pops ... and having a fully belly to boot!