I'm becoming a Frenchie

Last post in May?  Really?  Where has the time gone?

Now as a "seasoned" Frenchie, I don't always find things to blog about that I think most people back home would find interesting.  There might be a "thing" here or there, but nothing substantial enough to warrant a whole posting.

Today's blog will be just a smattering of "things" and I hope that it doesn't disappoint.  They will not necessarily be in any chronological order and there certainly will not be a "flow" to this post.

Here goes:

When traveling in Europe, ALWAYS ask if there is an EXPRESS train.

I learned this the hard way while Sarah was visiting in early September.  David had left Italy to go back to France (work) early on Monday morning and Sarah and I took a ferry from Naples to a town on the Amalfi Coast named Positano.

On the ferry arriving in Positano

As soon as our ferry docked, we went to the ticketing booth to purchase our return ferry tickets.  The agent said, SOLD OUT.  I, of course, said ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  I am a freaky traveler, usually planning every aspect of a trip before we ever leave home.  You cannot purchase ferry tickets in person for a "return" trip from your departure destination and we were the first ferry to dock....how can you be sold out??

The agent "assured" me that it was okay.  We would take the ferry to Sorrento and then buy a ticket for another ferry to Naples.  (They couldn't sell Sorrento to Naples tickets) She said "you grab a coffee while you wait for your ferry, it's good, no?"

Wow.  That worked out well, didn't it?  Sarah and I enjoyed our day on the beach, had a nice lunch and boarded our ferry to our Sorrento destination.  We got off the ferry and went to the ticket booth. "2 tickets to Naples, please."  TOMORROW was the reply.  WHAT?????  The last scheduled ferry from Sorrento to Naples (about a 2 hour car drive) left 35 minutes before we arrived!

Now what?? (insert me freaking out and Sarah "going with the flow")  We went to another ferry company, same story, TOMORROW.  This agent was kind enough to say that there was a train (leaving in 30 minutes) going to Naples.  Super!  Let's find a taxi to the train station.

No taxi in sight, but we did see a bus full of people.  The person selling the tickets (by the bus door) asked us where we were going and I said "train station".  He said 2,40 Euro each.  We paid and squeezed onto the bus.  Whew.  We should make the train.  The bus driver didn't announce the stops prior to the bus coming to a halt and "train station" meant nothing to our fellow passengers. I later found out "railway" would've been the better word choice.  I asked  how to get to Naples and someone said "next stop".

We now only had about 15 minutes to get on the train.  We exited the bus and went into the Tabac shop (it's like a convenience store, selling magazines, papers, tobacco products) and I asked for 2 tickets to Naples.  The agent sold me 2 tickets and we went to find our train.

We looked up at the route (which is always posted on all forms of railway transportation) and saw that there were like a MILLION stops between Sorrento and Naples.  Surely, we weren't going to stop at all of them??  Yep, we did.  1 hour and 45 minutes later we exited the train from the last stop on the line.  We each had about 6 different sweaty, smelly bodies sit next to us during our trip.  At last, we were in Naples!

We exited the train station and it was nearly dark.  I had no idea what part of Naples we were in and there were no taxis in sight.  Just as we prepared to start walking a taxi appeared (cue triumphant entry music and add the spot light highlighting the vehicle as it approached).  7 minutes later we were safely in our hotel lobby.

The next day we were planning a trip to Pompei.  I knew the taxi fare was 90 Euro and that was way too expensive  I asked the front desk what the best/cheapest method to get from the hotel to Pompei would be and he said the train.  (We had just passed the Pompei train station, it was about halfway between Sorrento and Naples)  I explained that we had just come off the train from Sorrento and I didn't want to do that again.  He said, "didn't you take the EXPRESS?"  WHAT??  Seems there was an express train that would've taken only 45 minutes with only 3 stops in between.

Now I know.  ALWAYS ask if there is an EXPRESS TRAIN.  FYI, it was much cleaner, less crowded and only took 30 minutes to get to Pompei.

This is Sarah enjoying a lemon granita on the Express Train

Cathedral bells

Our visitors love leaving the windows open and hearing the church bells ring.  It is a very soothing sound as I sit at my kitchen table every morning.  It will be something that I miss when we go back to the states.

My view from the kitchen table and a sampling of what I hear every morning

Last night, as we were headed to bed, the bells started ringing.  After 3+ years here in Strasbourg I finally had an epiphany.  When it's 10pm here, the bell is going to ring 22 times!  Yep, we are on a 24 hour clock and I know that.  I had just never put the two together.

View of the Strasbourg Cathedral from our window at night

French School Misery

Just last week I attended our first AIA coffee morning of the 2016-2017 year.  There were several new ladies who attended and the hot topic of conversation was the French school system.

There were 3 new families who had arrived in Strasbourg between July and August.  All had completed the proper paperwork for their kids to begin school September 1.

Let me just say that schooling in France is difficult for English speaking families.  It can take months for a space to open up in either the European School or in the International School.  When Lilly brings a family from the states, they begin the school process months in advance to secure a spot in a school that will teach part of the day in English.

One of these 3 families (3 teenage boys) reported to their school on the first day.  These boys were given proficiency tests in both French and English.  The school arbitrarily decided that they didn't have "space" for the boys (even though they had been enrolled since July) and now these kids are sitting at home waiting for a spot to open up.

Can you imagine?  Your family gets transferred from Michigan to California and you arrive at the public school and they say they don't have room for the three kids that you already registered and that they accepted? HA!

The other topic of conversation regarding the school system was class presidents.  There is an election in what would be middle school (which, let's face it, is usually just a popularity contest).  The elected president meets with the class teacher throughout the year.  Nothing seems unusual about that yet, until you find out that when they meet, the teacher provides the class president feedback on each student in the class. Then the PRESIDENT meets and provides the teacher's feedback to his/her peers.

Can you imagine?? A middle-schooler wielding that type of power?  Yes, bullying does exist here.

Parent night....that also happened last week at the schools.  Imagine sending your child to a school that teaches in English, but where the lead administrator holds an information night and doesn't speak any English.  You are sitting through an INFORMATION night and unless you are fluent in French, you have no idea what is going on.  (Fortunately, we have some very kind AIA members who attend these nights WITH new members and translate for them)

THANK THE LORD that I came here with no school aged children!

Words that have a different meaning in a second language.  Specifically, the word FRESH.

Webster defines FRESH as

• : newly produced, made, gathered, etc. :not preserved by being frozen, canned, etc.
• : not old, spoiled, etc.
• : clean and pure

Now, I know that there are additional definitions of fresh, but during this time of the year here in Europe people use FRESH to describe, not the air quality (clean/pure), but the air temperature.  "My, it's so fresh today."

I made a dinner reservation and they suggested we sit outside because the oven would make the interior temperature too warm, but outside it would be fresh.  (Remember, no A/C here!)

It's funny, because even native english speakers that have been living here for quite some time refer to the Fall temperatures as fresh, not cool or chilly.

Remodeling/New home purchase

We have friends, Katie and Guillaume, who were talking with us about the possibility of buying/building a new home. It's quite the undertaking in any culture to build a new home from foundation up.  I was quite overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices I had to make when we built our home in Taylor Mill.  Flooring, cabinetry, door styles, handles, door knobs, hinge colors....the list goes on and on.

Somehow, we arrived on the topic of bathroom fixtures.  Prepare to have your mind blown.

Apparently in Germany (not too far from us) there is a place called Hansgrone Aquademie World of Discovery.  It is essentially a water-bath-design museum.  What does that mean and why are you writing about it, you ask?  It houses "Showerworld", where you can set up an appointment, take your swimsuit and "try out" the different showers that they offer for sale.

Guillaume suggested we visit, (and in French it would be known as musée de la douche or douche museum).  I thought he was totally making it up.  However, it does exist and you can check it out.  http://www.hansgrohe-int.com/268.htm

I am in new territory this weekend.  David travelled home for DJ's "SAE Dad's Weekend" and I stayed behind.  It is the first time that HE has gone home and left me here alone in France.  I must say, I don't like it one bit.  I am excited that David will finally have the opportunity to share a Dad's weekend with not only DJ, but also with Sarah.  (DJ approved his sister coming in advance)

Wishing you all a blessed weekend. Stay safe and intentionally love those around you.

Oh, the things you will see driving through France

Last weekend was a holiday weekend here in France, so David and I undertook a 2000+ kilometer drive from Strasbourg to Normandy, through the Loire Valley and back. (That's over 1200 miles)

Drive through the French countryside anytime during April - June and you will see beautiful fields of vibrant yellow.  I love to garden, so I love knowing what I'm looking at as I pass by.  Turns out that these are fields of rapeseed (or colza).  I haven't done extensive research, but rapeseed is part of the mustard family and can be used in Biofuel. There is also a variety, I'm told, that is used to produce Canola oil.

On many of our drives, David and I have noticed what look like enormous nests in the trees.  We finally asked one of our French friends and found out these are not nests at all.  In French, they are called "gui"(pronounced "gee" with a hard "g").....which is mistletoe!!

Mistletoe is a parasite! It attaches itself to trees, plants and shrubs, stealing their nutrients and water. 

The last little tidbit that I will share regarding our experience with driving in France involves the motorcyclists.  If you are in the city, you can expect that scooters and motorcycles will bypass you as you wait at a stop light, moving right up to the front of the line of stopped cars.  It's maddening. 

What's worse, however, is that when you are in slow traffic on the highways, they just take matters into their own hands.....the white line becomes a "motorcycle lane".  Heaven forbid you drive "too close" to that dashed line....you will get yelled at.  Yes, I am totally serious, they are breaking the law, but they are totally indignant while doing so.

I was never a fan of history while I was in school.  I'm more of a math and science girl.  While I could remember the gist of WWII events, it was never of particular interest to me.  Perhaps, you are like me, so I thought I would share some of the things that I found interesting/memorable and perhaps bring some history alive for you.

There were 5 D-Day assault beaches that the allied forces invaded in June of 1944. American troops landed on Omaha and Utah Beach, British troops landed on Sword and Gold Beach and Canadian troops landed on Juno Beach.  But, did you know how these 5 beaches came to be known by their new code names?  (They were formerly known by the French villages they bordered)

American General Omar Bradley had two staff sergeants working with him during the planning of the invasion.  He asked these two sergeants where they were from.  One answered Omaha and the other, Utah.  The three beaches that were under British and Canadian command were code-named Goldfish, Swordfish and Jellyfish by a British commander.  The Brits shortened the names of their beaches to Gold and Sword, but the Canadians didn't like the name Jellyfish (or it's shortened version, Jelly), so the Canadian commander named the 5th beach after his wife June, Juno.

In the words of Paul Harvey, "and that's the rest of the story". I'm not sure if this is fact or just a fun story from our guide, but it certainly helps me to remember the names of the 5 beaches.

Omaha Beach from the sea

At the American Cemetery....graph of the D-Day invasion

While in Normandy, we were able to visit the Caen Memorial museum and the American Memorial Cemetery. Both are "must sees" if you travel to the Normandy region of France.  The American Memorial Cemetery (the first American cemetery on European soil) contains 9,387 graves of soldiers who gave their lives.  The Walls of the Missing contains the names of  1,557 soldiers.  Some have since been found and identified.  What stood out to me, were the 149 graves that were marked with the Star of David, signifying the soldiers who were brave enough to identify as Jewish during this especially brutal time in history.

Walls of the Missing

How fortunate David and I are to be able to visit these places that have been etched into history.  How blessed we Americans are that so many have bravely and unselfishly fought, and continue to fight to secure our freedoms. Thank you for your sacrifice.

While the time between my blog posts might be longer, I continue to learn new things all the time. Stay tuned...next blog I plan to share with you about the small rodent that eats through engine lines and the shower museum!!  It's another holiday weekend here, so we are setting off to Budapest, Hungary.  Until next time!

Dinner opportunity within an International community

This past week David and I were invited to attend a "Burns supper".  Unless you are of Scottish descent, you may not be aware that such an event exists.  A Burns supper is a celebration of the life and poetry of the poet Robert Burns, author of many Scots poems. The suppers are normally held on or near the poet's birthday, January 25th.

Our hosts, Mike (Scottish) and Karen (Irish) ordered the haggis all the way from Scotland. I don't think that you can find it anywhere else!  

I typically don't like to be surprised, so I thought I would read up on what a Burns Supper would entail.  The order of the dinner is very precise....guests are invited to the table, the host welcomes everyone, guest are seated and grace is said.  

View of our table....attendees included 2 Irish, 1 Scot, 2 Canadians, 4 Americans,
2 Italians, 5 Spanish, 2 Swedish, 3 English and 5 French

The Selkirk Grace

Some hae meat an

canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

And sae let the Lord be thankit.

Then the food begins with a soup course

and then the haggis makes it's appearance

Our friend Krys had the honor of bringing in the haggis

complete with a poem entitled 

"Address to a Haggis"

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to mend a mill
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,            At this line, Mike drew out his knife, and plunged it  
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,               into the haggis and cuts it open from end to end. 
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad make her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro' blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer
Gie her a haggis!

Thank the Lord I took the time to "try to read" and understand the poem beforehand....I could barely understand a word being said!  I've uploaded the video to youtube, just in case you'd like to "hear it".

After the poem is read, the other courses are brought to the table and include a steak pie, tatties and neeps.

Steak Pie (think beef stew)

The haggis.....caution....do NOT google what's in it before you EAT it :)

Neeps....aka mashed turnips

All to be washed down with various bottles of Scotch Whiskey.  Dessert is a tipsy laird (whiskey trifle) served with tea and coffee.

While guests are eating, other Burns' poems, toasts and songs ensue. It's very difficult to read, let alone to recite.  I've included David's attempt.....don't be too quick to laugh unless you want to give it a try too.




While living in the great midwest, I am not sure that I have ever encountered a born and raised Scotsman. They speak with a heavy brogue and it's quite lovely to listen to, but unless you have an "ear for it", it's nearly impossible to understand, especially if they speak at their normal "pace". Fortunately, Mike is a very good sport about repeating himself.

It was a great evening and we were blessed to be invited.  Mike assured us that the leftover haggis would be delicious with our eggs the next morning.... while he might think so, we didn't ask to take any leftovers home!

DETOUR

What happens when you get comfortable?  For me, it seems, I take life for granted.  I don't see the "newness" in my daily routine.  It's for that reason that I have not had a new blog in over 6 weeks.  I mean really, who wants to know what I made for dinner, or that I walked through our Christmas market for the 10th day in a row? Same old, same old.

With today's technology, maneuvering through a detour isn't always that difficult.  Our car GPS system instantly offers us a "detour" when there is heavy traffic along our route.  We so heavily rely on it, that we seldom even know exactly what road we are supposed to be on.  We follow it blindly.  (My map-wielding father-in-law just gasped aloud) 

Having said that, now let me take you on my "detour".  What comes to mind when you hear that word?  The Webster definition is : the act of going or traveling to a place along a way that is different from the usual or planned way.

Nothing is worse than being at the end of your journey and seeing that big yellow/orange sign "DETOUR".  Have you ever considered the alternative?  What if the sign wasn't there to alert you?  What if you continued on your merry way and in the darkness and newness of your unfamiliar surroundings, you ran your car off a cliff, drove off the side of a damaged bridge or came to the end of a lane long ago forgotten and overgrown without any instructions for getting you back on your way? I hope to challenge you to see detours in a new light.

Sarah finished her first quarter of grad school in mid-December and made her way to France.  I had "planned" almost every moment of her time here with us.  She landed, she slept and we were on our way.  First up, a quick visit to her favorite spot, Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland.  

We spent Saturday hiking through the mountains and enjoying the snow. Okay, maybe I didn't enjoy snow, but David and Sarah did.  Then, the real reason for our visit....ROSTI.  Think hash brown potatoes with toppings.  Sunday we hiked through the valley and then headed back into France.  We did a quick stop at one of the village Christmas markets before finally landing at home.

Monday, Sarah and I headed to London for three days of adventures!  We were both excited.  I was thrilled to land and to see and hear ENGLISH.  We found our hotel (which was a little difficult without an internet connection) and headed to our first adventure.....a "Jack the Ripper Walk".  

Who hasn't heard of Jack the Ripper?  Who wouldn't find it interesting to walk along the dark foggy streets of London and retrace where the murders happened?  Okay, maybe it's not something for everyone, but Sarah and I found it interesting.

Days 2 and 3 were filled the "top" sites of London:  Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, we shopped at Harrods, we saw a musical production in London's theater district and we of course stuffed ourselves with "fish and chips".

Back to Strasbourg on Thursday.  Now it was time to prepare for our "next adventure".  DJ was arriving on Sunday morning (11AM) and our family was hosting a Christmas party on Sunday evening. The invitation said to "stop by" for a "Cup of Christmas Cheer" between 5 and 9pm. Apparently, in France, you don't "stop by".....you "stay". (Detour)  So while I anticipated 50+ guests "popping in" to meet DJ and Sarah, I didn't know that all 50+ would stay the entire time.  We had such a fun time and there were so many different people (neighbors, people from our church, AIA members, Lilly people) here that I wouldn't have had it any other way.  

Some of our "50+" guests.

We had people in one corner speaking German, we had another group speaking French, we had DJ standing in the middle of the dining room with his eyes glazed over having only had 3 hours of sleep in his last 24.  (Note to travelers:  if you are claustrophobic, please don't choose a middle seat.  Poor DJ wasn't able to sleep a wink because the lady beside him had to get up and walk around every hour)

When the people were gone and the apartment was "back together" both kids commented on what great friends we have here.  (Detour alert:  Strasbourg was NEVER our plan.  It was God's plan to be here.  What fascinating friendships would we have missed if we never made the detour!)

Bright and early Wednesday morning we boarded a flight to Morocco.  I was so excited for David and the kids to experience Africa.  I had an event/excursion planned nearly every day.  

We experienced a bit of a problem at the airport with our driver. We couldn't find him and the owner of the company was not answering his phone.  After about a 40 minute "search", we finally gave up and hired a taxi to take us the 2 1/2 hours to Essaouira.

We made it safely to our beach front hotel and were able to enjoy a few hours in the sun before we headed into the Medina for dinner.  We enjoyed our best meal of the trip at a funky little 70's inspired place called Elixir.  

Wednesday, Christmas Eve.  We were all excited to begin our Moroccan adventures with a 3 hour ATV ride through the sand dunes and along the beach. It was absolutely amazing.  It was also the only adventure that I would be able to take part in.  DETOUR.

With about 30 minutes left in our tour, I crested a sand dune and my ATV landed badly.  In a failed effort to keep myself upright, I planted my left leg in the sand.  Well, the ATV kept moving forward, I heard (above the sound of the ATV motor) a "POP" and it felt like my kneecap exploded.  Into the sand I went, clutching my knee.  The only thing I remember is thinking "I broke my leg".

Let the DETOUR begin.  They gently loaded me onto my ATV and we began our last 30 minutes back to the end point.  Let's just say that it is difficult to drive an ATV over rough terrain with one hand while you hold your kneecap in place with the other.

As we began our trip back to the hotel, our driver was kind enough to attempt getting to an open pharmacy so that we could attempt to locate crutches or at least some type of brace.  I never expected a Muslim holiday during the "Christian" Christmas time, but apparently, for the first time in over 460 years MILAD UN NABI (The prophet's birthday) fell on Christmas eve. Guess what?  Nothing was open.  We tried no less than 4 pharmacies, even ringing the personal residence of one of the pharmacists.  

I was unable to bear any weight on my leg without my entire kneecap shifting inward.  My two able bodied heroes (DJ and David) were tasked with carrying me from the van to my room.  Yes, take a moment to mentally picture that.  Two 6ft+ men walking through the lobby of a 5 star hotel carrying a woman (legs splayed).

Safely within the confines of my room I began the task of "detouring" my next 10 days.  Massage appointment, cancel. Sunset camel ride, cancel. Segway tour of Marrakech, cancel. Dinner reservations, cancel.  David and I were scheduled to spend a week upon our return from Marrakech touring Normandy, the Loire Valley and the Champagne region of France.  CANCEL. (Below are some photos of David and the kids enjoying the excursions....good news was that I apparently picked "awesome" tours)

If you know me on a personal level, then you know that God has gifted me organizationally.  I had spent HOURS researching, planning and reserving nearly every detail of 4 weeks of my life.  From December 9th when Sarah landed, until January 4th when David went back to work, there was an itinerary in place. I even knew how much drive time there would be in the car from point A to point B....DETOUR.

I'm going to spend a few minutes to praise God and allow His mercy to shine through.  It happened to ME.  Praise God that it wasn't David, DJ or Sarah.  While I had "things to do", I was the "best case" scenario for an injury.  I can't imagine sending either of my kids home to begin a new school semester injured. There was no way that I could have managed getting David around by myself, he's simply too large for me to help in any effective way.

I sent a text to our friend Brittney Howard.  I needed a doctor in Strasbourg.  She and Matt were preparing to take some much deserved time off and travel through Belgium and into Amsterdam.  Matt immediately contacted the team orthopedic doctor on my behalf and arranged an appointment for me during the doctor's day off....yep, that is God's audible "turn right here" in the middle of my detour.

I could go on forever, but I don't want to bore you.  My current "position" is damage to both my MCL and ACL.  The doctor wants an MRI (which I will get in 2 weeks) and a follow-up appointment on the 27th of January.  He said that my MCL should self heal and my ACL would most likely need surgical repair.

The best part of receiving this news is that while my loving family thought I was just being "wimpy" and that I just needed to "suck it up", I actually DID hurt myself.  Someone (who shall remain nameless) actually called me "the grinch that stole Christmas" during our time in Morocco.  I guess that I now have a little more "street cred" with the family.

I'm not much for making "New Year's resolutions".  Do I need to lose a few pounds, yes.  Should I be working out more, yes. You know the usual stuff.  However, I think that because of this detour, I have decided that perhaps I should allow God to do more of the planning in my life.  Perhaps ask Him to direct my path a little more often.  I'm not saying that I will hang up my "travel agent shoes", but maybe not plan the dinner location and time for a trip that's 6 weeks away. 

I will try to be less self-sufficient and to allow others to help me.  I am usually the first person to accuse some of my "more independent" friends that to deny my offer of help is to "rob me of the blessing".  I guess now, it's my turn to allow others to bless me.  TRUST ME....that is not an easy thing for me, just ask David.  He has been my knight in shining armour throughout the last two weeks and I have HATED every minute of it.  

Thanks to all of you who have messaged me, have prayed for me and have visited me. Your friendship is the best part of this detour.

"AT WAR" in France

We had just arrived home from an exciting win for our SIG basket team over Real Madrid.  David was tired after a long work week and was ready to head to bed.  I was checking my email.  I'll be honest, we NEVER check the news happening here in Europe.  Luckily, David's brother/sister/mother are news junkies.  David received a message from his brother Michael asking where we were....something was going on in Paris.  Normally, we would just go to bed and check in the morning, but we turned on CNN and watched in horror as the events of the Paris attacks were being reported.

That was a week ago today.  Much has happened in 7 days.  Even in the relatively small town of Strasbourg there have been raids and arrests. Instead of seeing 3 military personnel carrying uzis, now there are groups of 6 patrolling the streets.  There is a Turkish embassy one block from our apartment.  Military are stationed on each corner of the block.  Trash cans have clear liners hanging from the OUTSIDE of the cans to prevent explosives from being thrown inside and hurting passersby.

The borders are now "closed", meaning it's no longer a unfettered crossing, but police checking cars, bikes and pedestrians as they come and go from France.

As I've written before, we are known as Strasbourg capitale de Noël.  (you can click on the link to read more)  Our Christmas market is set to open the Friday after Thanksgiving.  There is a huge tree lighting ceremony.  Earlier this week there was a vote by local officials as to whether the market would happen this year. (The vote was yes, it will) Let me just say, if terrorists are looking for a "soft target", I'm living in the middle of one during the month of December.

crowds from last year's market in front of the cathedral

While much of the world is "Praying for Paris", others are not.  During the soccer match between Greece and Turkey fans booed during the moment of silence.  Last night David and I attended another basketball game between the SIG and Belgrade.  After the moment of silence, the crowd began to sing the French national anthem, "La Marseillaise" . David and I were stunned as the large section of Belgrade fans began to sing THEIR national anthem.  It didn't seem like a spontaneous action, rather a planned "attack" if you will.  Karma "got em" though, Le SIG came back from a 21 point deficit to win the game!!  Allez le SIG!!

Should I operate from a place of fear?  I think not.  God's plan for me cannot be altered. (Jeremiah 29:11) If it is my time to meet my Saviour, I will be taken home whether I am inside my apartment (cowering from possible threats) or walking along the streets of France.  Case in point, have you seen the video from the Paris café?  The one where the shooter is standing over a woman and either his gun jams or he runs out of bullets?  He absolutely intended to kill her, but it was obviously not "her time" to meet her maker.  I pray that she has had a "moment with God" after that encounter. (here is the link)  http://edition.cnn.com/2015/11/19/world/paris-attacks-cctv-footage-woman-gunman-daily-mail/ 

I won't go into the politics of the US entering the fight.  I only say, please don't be fooled into thinking that the violence "is far away".  I praise the military men and women who fight for my safety and for the opportunity that my children have had to live in a free country.  Can you imagine living a life as a mother trying to protect her children from the atrocities happening in Syria and other parts of the world?   I cannot.  It breaks my heart.  Even so, come Lord, Jesus.

As we enter the week of the Thanksgiving holiday, I pray that you will consider the blessings that you have and be thankful for each of them.  While France does not celebrate/recognize this holiday, there are many families who now wish one of their "blessings" were still with them.

Take a break from the hustle and bustle, don't fall prey to the "gotta have it" mentality that advertisers will throw at you in the coming weeks.  You can't buy the "real" things that will make you happy, the things that will make your life more complete.  Those are the PEOPLE in your life.  Be sure to let them know that they MATTER.

Happy Thanksgiving y'all.  

Just what have I been doing since June?

Yikes!  No wonder my father-in-law asked me if he'd been removed from my blog mailing list.  4 months?  It doesn't seem possible that it's been that long since I've sat down to write about our lives in Europe.

Why haven't I blogged in that time?  It isn't because "nothing has happened".  During these past 4 months of my silence, David and I have:

• been back home to the states twice, once in June and then in August to help move Sarah to Chicago for Grad school and DJ back to Purdue.
  
  
  
  
• spent 10 days in July traveling the Amalfi Coast, Sicily and Capri
  
• travelled to the south of France for a weekend visit
  
• enjoyed having two of our Hedge friends (Marcie and Dave) come to Europe and we visited Paris and the Bordeaux region
  
  
  
  
• just returned from a visit with our French/American friends the Lucks touring Dijon and Beaune.

  

  Outside the Hôtel-Dieu

  

  Enjoying our mustard tasting

  

  David mixing up our mustard

  
  

So maybe I haven't had the time to sit down at my computer and blog? No, but life has certainly been adventurous and full of fun.

There are so many things that I could share that I don't know quite where to begin.  David's comment to me was that I have "become French" and that is why I haven't blogged in so long.  He is somewhat correct in that I have become accustomed to so many of the things that I found so odd/frustrating when I first moved here nearly 2 1/2 years ago.

I accept the fact that as I walk down the French sidewalk pedestrians are not going to move over....I continue to "ram" shoulders occasionally, often eliciting a "gasp of surprise" (maybe even sometimes pain because they weren't expecting it).

I am no longer surprised when I show up at a restaurant or boutique and they are "closed" from 2:00 until 4:00.  Everyone needs a lunch break, right?

I know that a dinner out will be a two hour event.  There is no such thing as "fast food" here.

So what does shock/surprise me?  What makes me say "what the heck?".

Cute little Cameron going for his 3 month check-up and being told that he is "growing like a mushroom"? That is apparently a common French saying.  Are mushrooms weeds?  I don't know.

Baby Cameron in his Halloween costume...cutest Lobster ever

How about googling the "best rosti restaurant in Basel, Switzerland", driving 2 hours so that Marcie and Dave can try rosti (think hash brown potatoes) and then finding out that they aren't open at 3:00 in the afternoon?  Ok, so maybe we were at fault there, but really? We tried no less than 5 places before we found a hotel diner that was serving food in the middle of the afternoon.

Dropping off a birthday present for our downstairs' neighbor and being greeted with "I'm full of microbes"...yes, that meant that she was sick.

Vive le différence!

We have new friends (both just born and newly moved to Alsace).  Baby Noone (Cameron),  baby Lee (Andrew) and two new basketball families; the Weems (baby Kyrie expected in December) and the Coles (Kayda Belle).  Aunt Teresa is certainly getting her baby fix. Yes, I am old enough to be the parent/grandparent to all of these newcomers.

While some "new" transplants are able to adapt to the differences, all are not. (The aforementioned families are all adapting well)  I think that the term "ugly American" comes directly from people who are either visiting, or have relocated to Europe and expects that everyone will adapt to "his/her American" needs/wants.  It doesn't work that way!  How many times have I heard my mother say, "if you expect to live in America you need to speak English"?  While she and I have had many heated discussions on this topic, in essence, she is correct in the main concept...MAKE AN EFFORT.

Adapting to a different culture and a different language is difficult.  Does that mean you shouldn't try?  I think not. Be observant, be polite and humble, don't just bully your way through and expect things to go the way you want them.  I certainly don't expect that people here in France can speak English.  I am always THRILLED when they do, but it's ultimately my responsibility to adapt to this culture and this language while I am a guest here. Trust me, my bad French coupled with a smile and a humble spirit has gone a l-o-n-g way.

No, I canNOT have chips with my sandwich at lunch, they won't bring me a glass of iced tea and I certainly won't get a free refill.  I WILL be seated next to someone who is puffing away on their cigarette and probably has a dog sitting beside them inside the restaurant.

I can find veal, rabbit and horse at the market and inside the grocery store.  I can see a 60+ man walking through the market in tight leather hotpants.  It's an adventure and I am blessed to be living it!!