counting days

Wanderlust., a photo by cocopuff1212 on Flickr.

Our Christmas tree is up, with gifts already wrapped and placed underneath it. It's dark outside, soup is simmering on the stove, and I'm listening to this version of one of my favorite Christmas songs.

 

quiet

Good morning., a photo by cocopuff1212 on Flickr.

After a weekend with house full of people, sitting alone in the kitchen feels strange, and the quietness of this place is unsettling. My son was heartbroken to see his cousin leave, and I am wondering if I need to do something special to cheer him up.


Thanksgiving was early this year, and we have a full week before Advent starts. I am working through the piles of towels and sheets to wash, and between the loads, making trips to the garage to get our Christmas things out.

I know I am six days ahead, but I find myself saying, "O come, O come, Emmanuel."

october.

Clouds in the sky, leaves on the ground., a photo by cocopuff1212 on Flickr.

September zipped by while we were too busy unpacking and trying to settle. I don't even know what happend to July and August -- I don't think they existed for us this year.

We are, in any case, in our new home. Our own home, surrounded by our own furniture, our art, our books. We have new routines, new friends, new issues to tackle, new advendures to make.

Here are some of the things I am excited about:

1. My desk faces the window (for the first time ever!), and the view of the trees outside is just what I need. Writing now is more meditative than it has ever been.

2. Lots and lots of great Asian food. And I don't mean just the restaurants (although there are plenty). My next door neighbor is Korean, and he just brought over the first batch of the kimchi he made the other week. I had a big spoonful, not even with rice but just plain kimchi alone, and it was mmm, mmm, MMMMM. The only sad thing was that I didn't have any beer to go with it.

3. We have family, relatives, and old friends to look up. We've lived the nomads' lifestyle for several years, and while we met many interesting people and made many good friends, it is always a treat to reconnect with people with whom we share the earlier chapters of our history. I feel home now, rooted and comforted.

The morning air is chilly these days, and the leaves are starting to change colors. We've already gone apple picking, and are looking forward to visiting pumpkin patches and having freshly made apple cider. We'll do the hay rides and corn mazes, too.

This is where we are, this is our life, here and now.

What a lucky bunch of scarecrows we are.

lighter steps

We've past the equinox on the 20th of March this year. The day is longer than the night now, seemingly more so than it really is after we forwarded the clock by one hour this past weekend.

It's not the best time of the year to be outside for allergy sufferers like me, but it's so hard not to, not after that unforgiving cold spell we had last month.

Our flat needs tidying up and the floor needs mopping, and there are several shirts hanging on the door knob looking sad and wrinkly -- but I'm going to ignore them and step out after lunch. I'll grab my Kindle and take some coffee in my thermo mug.

The question is, to which park?

beginning

The year 2011 was a difficult one for me, on many different levels. But it was also a year of personal growth, with moments filled with appreciation and gratitude. I'm not sure whether everything happens for a reason, but I know I can learn something from everything that happens, and take that with me.

If things move along as expected (warning: sometimes they don't), we will be wrapping up our stint in France and heading back to the U.S. six months from now. It's a beginning of another chapter! There's a lot to think about and prepare for, but when I do, I get all tingly with anticipation.

So here's to the new year, a fresh new beginning. I feel blessed to be here, looking directly forward. I will take my steps, one at a time, with my head held high.

wish

Wishing everyone a warm, comfortable Christmas, and sending my thoughts to those who are hungry and those surrounded by danger. Special prayers to people who are facing this Christmas for the first time after a personal loss.

May the message of the season lighten your load and lift you up.

christmas listening 3

 

 

 

It was cloudy and dark this morning. And windy. Very windy.

I was waiting for the light to change. The bridge was shaking because of the strong wind. Pedestrians and cyclists hurried past me, trying to keep themselves from getting blown into the vehicular traffic. From the comfort of my own car, I watched people walk, leaning heavily into the wind and holding the collars of their coats. Then this song came on my car stereo.

I thought about the friend I just said good-bye to, quite possibly for a long time, if not for good -- her family is leaving France. I also thought about the two-and-a-half years that have gone by since we moved to Lyon. Six more months and then we leave.

People come and people go. We are part of that migration.

 

  

Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot, and old lang syne ?

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint! And surely I’ll buy mine!

And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

We two have run about the slopes, and picked the daisies fine;

But we’ve wandered many a weary foot, since auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

We two have paddled in the stream, from morning sun till dine;

But seas between us broad have roared, since auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

And there’s a hand my trusty friend! And give us a hand o’ thine!

And we’ll take a right good-will draught, for auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,

We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

 

It's a beautiful Scottish traditional song. Above is just one version of the lyrics, and not the exact words sung by James Taylor.

Yes, I'll take a cup of kindness yet, but not for the sake of old times. I'll take my cup for here and now, becuase that's all we've got.

little hands

I was at a fund-raising event on Saturday, staffing one of the craft tables for the children and taking photos.

I love watching children create. I love watching the serious expression on their faces while they are at it, and the obvious satisfaction they feel upon finishing a project, no matter how small it is.

I do have a few things I'd like to say to some parents, however.

First, stop telling your children to "put that over there, this over here, it's crooked, that's way too much glue." It's their project, not yours. They know what they're doing. More importantly, they like what they're doing. So let them be.

Second, please do not tell them to "look at the camera and smile." That so spoils the moment. For the children, and for me.

Thank you for listening.

christmas listening 2

"Little Drummer Boy" is one of my favorite Christmas songs, but it cannot be any verison. It has to be this one.

winter bulbs

 

"Water just once a week until blooming. Once blooming, water twice a week. Do not consume -- for decoration only." ~ care instruction

christmas reading 2

Here's something I used to do with children around Christmas: (Note: this is easier, and actually more fun, if some adults are present to help name the reindeer... especially if those adults have never read this book.)

Me: Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?

Kids: Dasher and Dancer and....

Waitl til all the reindeer are named. Sometimes people forget Rudolf. Make sure he's counted, too. Then:

Me: And?

Kids: And what?

Me: There's one more.

Kids: Who?

Me: Olive. You forgot Olive.

Kids: There's no reindeer named Olive!

Me: Yes, there is.

Kids: Where?

Me: "All of the other reindeer~♪"

Kids: Huh?

Me: Don't you see? "All of the other... Olive, the other reindeer..."

Kids: Oooh.

Then pull out this book and read it to them.

christmas listening 1

 

I have about 90 Christmas albums in my music library. One that's currently on heavy rotation is this one by James Taylor, and this is my favorite track. 

 

christmas reading 1

One of the sweetest Christmas books ever. I love Richard Scarry books, period, but this one is probably my favorite of all.

a thankful heart

Today I'm thankful for...

Our home.

Freedom.

Hands to hold.

My five senses.

Protection.

Memories.

And for all that I can hold in my hands, and in my heart.

I'm wishing everyone a good Thanksgiving, wherever you might be.

fall

Fall is my favorite season of all. It always has been. I love the colors of fall, the textures of fall.

In the countryside not too far out of Lyon, we found lots of tactile evidence of the fall season.

It's fun to walk on the fallen-leaves carpet. We could feel and smell the moist ground underneath. You have to watch your step, though -- this carpet can be slippery.

We found bumpy little acorn hats and lots and lots of pokey chestnuts. The moss on the tree trunks were velvety to touch.

Ah, fall. It's a good thing that you come around every year.

pumpkins

How does a pumpkin know where to stop being yellow and start turning green?

 

 

I love the many, many shapes and colors and faces and textures of pumpkins.

Thank you for being so astonishingly beautiful.

 

time flies

This is what we were drinking, exactly a year ago. 

This is what I'll be drinking, in about a day and a half. The heat and humidity be damned!

plum blossoms

Seasons repeat, and spring is coming.

A ray of light, bringing a bit of hope.

up in the mountain

In a rustic chalet up in the mountain, time seems to pass more slowly.  Tonight, I'm taking time off from cooking.

sweet thoughts

Every day is a Valentine's Day for me :)