spring has sprung

Yes, Spring is officially here. The excellent weather has continued and it has warmed up enough to open a few windows and turn off the heat upstairs. Of course, with Spring comes allergies and I'm surprised to find myself perfectly fine - for years in South Carolina the pollen bothered me so much that I had to take allergy medicine every day of the year. Unfortunately, it's gotten to Steph, or so we think. He's been miserable for weeks now and it finally caught up with him this morning, as he didn't have the courage to go to work, which is saying quite a lot, since I've seen him soldier on through fevers and other less than pleasant maladies. Instead of suffering through a couple of hours of waiting to see the doctor (he couldn't get an appointment for this morning and the doctor sees patients 'first come first served' in the afternoons), he took an appointment for Monday and will suffer through the last two days of the week before Spring Break starts this weekend. This is the same guy who once said, "If I go to the doctor, he'll tell me something's wrong!" which I find is a typical male response (what is up with that?), but I hate seeing him suffer. All I can do is try not to kill him when he snores at twice the normal volume as usual at night.

Meanwhile, we finally figured out that our clothes dryer is not, in fact, broken, but the electrical socket it was connected to probably is. The socket in question is built into the bathroom vanity and probably wasn't meant to handle such high powered equipment, but why it worked for over a year and finally gave up the ghost is anyone's guess. We managed to come up with a surge protector that wasn't in use and plugged both the washer and dryer into it, and voila! we're back in business! I never thought I'd say that three hours for washing and drying a load of clothes was fast, but it sure did seem that way this morning, after months of waiting twenty-four hours for clothes to air-dry in the hallway. And our clothes are soft again! Not to mention the towels or the bedsheets...

Otherwise, things are rolling along. I received my new knitting accessories last week and have been knitting away and enjoying this gorgeous weather. It's so nice to have sunlight streaming through the windows after months and months of gray. I hope you've got similar Spring weather wherever you are!

sights for sore eyes

Friday afternoon I jumped on a train and headed east. Somewhere on the same train were my friend Christy and her mother, on their way to spend Easter weekend with Doc. I hadn't planned to see them until the next morning with Steph, but thanks to a scheduling conflict, I came alone a day early with Steph planning to meet up with us the next day. It was perfect timing - Doc and Christy were saying hello on the platform and Doc had just enough time to ask, "So, did you find your surprise on the train?" before I appeared and said, "'Sup?" Hilarity ensued.

Thus reunited, the four of us - joined the next morning by sweet Sarah (who is heading back home to Scotland after finishing her term as a teaching assistant this weekend and will be sorely missed!) embarked on two days of sightseeing.

We couldn't have ordered better weather - perfect blue skies, comfortable breezes in the low 70's - for exploring ancient ruins or wandering through narrow lanes in medieval fortified cities. Here's a brief synopsis of what we saw:



The Château de Lafauche in Haute-Marne dates from the 10th century. There isn't much left but a few walls here and there, but it has been in various stages of restoration through the years and also boasts a gorgeous view of the surrounding countryside.

Our next stop was the village of Vignory, which also boasts a crumbling tower on a hill, its fortifications and a medieval garden. It is also home to this church:



Doc tells me that this church dedicated to Saint Etienne is the oldest church in France still in use.

At this point, we retired to Doc's home, where we ate the most delicious fondue I have ever eaten in my life and hope to try to replicate next year, and we hit the hay for an early start on Saturday.

We headed south to Cote d'Or in the Borgogne region. Our first stop was the Abbaye de Fontenay.



This abbey dates back 900 years and is in remarkable shape thanks to the family that now owns it and the UNESCO grant it received in 1981. You can read about its interesting history here.

After a rejuvenating lunch in the town of Montbard, we headed to our second destination.



Flavigny-sur-Ozerain is well known for two things: yummy aniseed candies (I bought a beautiful wooden box for Steph that contained three tins of different flavored aniseed candies) and for being the location of the movie Chocolat. I have to admit that by the time we had the list of locations of the movie, Doc, Sarah and I could only contemplate searching out a cool drink at the local watering hole, but Christy and Mrs G went to hunt them up, so they may have some photos to show you sometime in the future.

Filled to the brim with beautiful sights, we headed home, pizzas in hand, to meet up with Steph and Marc, who were holding down the fort. After an evening of dinner and conversation, Steph and I headed home.

Even as I type, Christy and her mother are probably hanging out at Charles de Gaulle airport, getting ready to head home. It was so great to see y'all, and fun to discover these places with you! Have a safe trip home and I can't wait to see the rest of the photos of your adventures from this side of the ocean!

Happy Easter!

Well hello there! I hope you all are having a wonderful Easter with more chocolate eggs than you know what to do with! I was going to show you a picture of the chocolate Barbapapa that Steph surprised me with yesterday, but the batteries in my camera died and you wouldn't expect me to wait until they recharged before nibbling on chocolate, would you? I didn't think so. Steph will get his traditional chocolate bunny tomorrow when we go to his parents' for lunch.

The last two days have been filled with traveling and sightseeing and visiting with friends from waaaaay out of town. I've got tons of photos to upload but today is more for catching up in the blog universe and slinging around knitting needles. I should have some photo goodness up for you tomorrow afternoon sometime. Until then, have a nice holiday!

on names

Last Friday morning there was a flurry of activity at my front door. First was the arrival of two boxes of photographs I'd sent myself from the States, in somewhat battered condition but happily intact. I had just settled myself back on the sofa with a book when there was another knock on the door.

There stood a young lady from the post office with an armful of boxes - manna from heaven! She verified my name and handed over the goodies: my belated Christmas gifts from my sister - some address follies with Amazon had kept them going to the wrong address - as well as Season 5 of The West Wing and a couple of knitting notions. I was just about to say goodbye when she mentioned that there had been some confusion because there was a family with the same last name only one street over, at the same number, who have presumably been living in our small town for quite a while. It was only when she double-checked the street name that she came to the right place. I exclaimed that this certainly was a funny coincidence and wished her a nice day.

It's kind of odd for me to have a last name now that, while not as common as our Smiths and Joneses, is common enough for there to be people in the area that we're not related to. My maiden name is so unique in America that I've never heard of any American with the same last name that I'm not related to - and believe me, we've tried. Of course, when I moved here, I had no idea how common my new name was and would jump anytime I saw the name in the credits of a television program, asking Steph if we were related. He eventually explained where the name comes from - not a town (like my maiden name) or a person, but it is derived from a word used to describe those who were in service to the king, centuries ago. It's easy to see how there could be many of these descendants today.

I love learning about family history, both my own and the family I married into. How about you? Do you know where your name comes from?

the fruits of our labor

the fruits of our labor
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

It was getting on 4:00pm Saturday and Steph was very busy killing giant trolls or dragons or some such with his guild in DAoC and I was tapping my feet. Making sauce takes about four hours from start to finish, and while I take care of the three hours of stirring the pot every fifteen minutes, we always do the prep work together. Finally, Steph said he'd rather do the sauce the next day, as he was having too much fun bashing in the heads of elves or whatever to make sauce. Eh, what the heck, it's his birthday after all. Luckily, marriage has mellowed me - it wasn't that long ago that I would have freaked out at the thought of changing our plan, for The Plan shall not be changed!

[Full disclosure: I have been known to accompany Steph on his quests to kill mythical creatures, lest you think I look down my nose at these things.]

So Sunday we set to work and had a delicious spaghetti dinner last night. I must say that this is the best sauce we've made yet. It's funny when you think about it, how recipes can change from generation to generation. My sauce tastes completely different from my granmother's sauce, which is as far back in the lineage as my experience goes. She isn't Italian but learned to cook Italian from my grandfather, who was a first-generation American, who learned how to make this sauce from his mother, who was born in Italy. So my grandmother's sauce has a totally different taste - she adds a bit of sugar to cut the acid of the tomatoes and her sauce tends to run clear. My parents tinkered with this recipe their whole married life. I remember various incarnations of it, some of which were thinner sauces like Grandma's and others were as thick as mine. Sometimes he added so much pork and sausage that we'd have to skim the surface of the sauce while it was still cooking.

Of course, from necessity, my sauce is a little different from Dad's, but only because I have to substitute a few things. It still tastes close enough to Dad's recipe that I can close my eyes and imagine myself in all stages of childhood, the fragrance of sauce permeating every home in which we lived, asking Dad if I could stir the sauce next time so I could have a taste, and practically starving ourselves all day so we would be ready for the feast at dinnertime, consisting of bowls of salad with Italian dressing, plates piled with spaghetti and meatballs with parmesan cheese and Italian bread with garlic butter fresh from the oven.

I know now that every time I make this sauce I will automatically think of my parents. It may seem like a strange touchstone, but I will treasure those memories every time I gather these ingredients in preparation. I look forward to sharing this recipe with my children and one day seeing what changes they make to it, from one generation to the next.

Happy Birthday Steph!

Yay! Today is Steph's birthday! To celebrate, he's wearing two sweaters and currently has a thermometer wedged under his tongue. Oh dear.

His request for this birthday was to make my favorite family recipe - Ragu sauce. In honor of his birthday and the memory of my dear old Dad, I'm going to share it with you today, including Dad's own commentary. Enjoy!

Click "Tell me more!" to read the recipe!

Fred's Old Time Ragu
"Now That's Italian"

In order to really appreciate this recipe you must spend two weeks in Italy during the wine making season. Your entire time must be spent stomping grapes until your feel are stained the same color as some hockey team's mascot. If this is not feasible, you can use your toilet bowl filled with grape Kool-aid.

Now that you're in the right mood, let's begin:

Ingredients:

• Tomato Puree 26 oz cans, 2 ea
• Crushed Tomatoes 26 oz cans, 1 ea
• Cubed Meat, 1 pound
• Chopped Meat [aka ground beef], 1 pound
• pork (spare-rib or Chop, mostly bone), 1 ea
• Grated cheese, 1/4 cup
• Grated cheese, 1/4 cup
• onion powder, 1/2 teaspoon
• garlic powder, 1/2 teaspoon
• egg, 1 ea
  
• bread crumbs, 1/2 cup
• six pack beer, 1 ea
• olive oil, 4 tablespoons
• olive oil, 1 tablespoon
• medium onion (finely chopped), 1/2 ea
• garlic cloves (finely chopped), 6 ea
• oregano, to taste
• sweet basil, to taste
• thyme, to taste
• rosemary, to taste
• parsley, to taste
• salt, to taste
• black pepper, to taste

(Notes: here are some changes we've made in France. The first time I made this on my own, Dad was here to help me out. For tomatoes, I use large cans of whole tomatoes and squeeze them as I add them to the sauce. This time I'm going to use two 2kg bottles of puree with 2 cans whole tomatoes - yes this recipe is constantly changing! Dad often added a few links of Italian sausage - or what Americans know as Italian sausage - and since this is something I've never found here, we cook up a few merguez and toss them in. Instead of using separate herbs, we use a generous portion of Herbs de Provence. Of course, for grated cheese, always try to get your hands on some Parmesano Reggiano!)

Take all ingredients plus 1/2 can of water (Leave out the Beer) and put into a pretty large pot. Place on low to medium heat, stir occasionally. Open 1st can of beer and begin to drink. After you finish the beer stir again. Repeat this step until you complete the six pack. By this time you should be sleepy so turn the heat down to low and sleep several hours. When you awake your ragu will be done. The following is the alternative or long way method of preperation:


To prepare the sauce properly you must be prepared to spend several hours toiling over the pots and pans.

1. Chop 1/2 medium onion and garlic cloves finely.
2. Remove Pork and Cubed Beef from packages and remove excess fat. Cut beef into smaller cubes, approximately 1/2 inch each.
3. Place pot on stove and set heat to low-medium. Wait 3 to 5 minutes then pour in 4 tablespoons of Olive Oil. (I personally don't do this, as the temperature on our easy-bake oven is difficult to control.) Place pork, beef, onion and garlic in pot. Turn heat down to low and stir. Put cover on pot and saute until onion and garlic are quite cooked.
4. Add the three cans of tomatoes, open first, use a small amount of water to rinse out cans and add to sauce. Add 1/4 cup of grated cheese and each of the spices, its too difficult for me to measure, so you must use your judgment. Whatever you do, don't add too much in the beginning, you can't undo and you may be sorry! Stir, then cover. Continue to stir every fifteen minutes until done, approximately three to four hours.
5. Prepare meatballs - In a large mixing bowl put the chopped meat, one egg, 1/2 cup of bread crumbs, 1/4 cup of grated cheese and each of the spices including onion and garlic powder. Again you must do according to taste. Mix thoroughly. If mixture seems too dry, add a small amount of water, if too moist add bread crumbs. It's better if it ends up on the dry side.
6. Roll into small rounded shapes, similar to head, and place on a steel rack. The rack should then be placed on an aluminum foil covered cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees (Fahrenheit) for about 1/2 hour. Be careful to not overcook. When you feel they've cooked long enough add to sauce. Remember, the meat will continue to cook in the sauce.
7. After three hours or so start checking the cubed beef. If it tastes dry, it's not done. When beef is well cooked, Ragu is complete. Enjoy!!
   

on being suburban

I have to pass through three villages to get to Troyes. Before and after these villages are fields as far as the eye can see - and that's pretty far when you live on a plain - interrupted only by a farmstead here, a cluster of trees there. Some of these fields are already green and others are brown with churned earth.


New Year's Day 2007, a field in Haute-Marne

Last summer, we were driving our houseguests, all residents of Paris, from our house to Troyes for our anniversary party. One of my guests, from the Upper Midwest, sighed and said, "It reminds me of home." Another one, from Kansas, sighed and said, "Me too." And I was silent, because it didn't remind me of anything thing at all.

I am neither a city girl nor a country girl, though I am certainly comfortable in each environment. Maybe I get the city vibe from my mother, who was really a Long Islander but had no fear of negotiating any metropolis that got in her way. Dad was born less than five miles away from the family farm where his mother grew up. It hasn't been a working farm in some fifty years, the barn was pulled down when I was a kid (One of my favorite memories is my one ride on the huge red tractor, Dad at the wheel, my sister and I standing behind the seat and holding on) and the fields have been reclaimed by overgrowth and pine trees, but we still call it "The Farm."

No, I am of that class that city folk and country folk despise - The Suburbans. We were Country Club people; Dad played golf and I lounged at the pool. We lived on wide avenues in big ranch houses surrounded by vast green lawns. Yeah, it was paradise; I didn't know it then but looking back it's obvious. I'll never forget getting on the bus one morning and one kid, noting the street where I waited, said, "You must be rich" and I laughed until I cried because seriously, if we were so rich why did Mom make us buy clothes at Wal-Mart? No, we weren't rich, but we weren't exactly hurting, either.

But my point is, there are no fields in Suburbia, unless it's the baseball or soccer variety. If there was any farming at all, it was groves of oranges and grapefruit, and even those were far away from where I lived, where nature was carefully cultivated for taking a long walk with a stick and a small white ball.


May 19, 2006 on the bus to Troyes

Yesterday, I passed countless fields waking up on a misty morning. On these drives, it's all I can do to keep my eyes on the road. My eyes are distracted by how much the wheat in this field have grown or the tractor working his way across his field just on the horizon. I feel like I've landed on a whole new planet. Sometimes, when the weather is warm and it's the end of the day, and I'm driving home alone, I roll down the windows and shout with joy. I am intoxicated by the fact that I am surrounded by fields that have been cultivated for food instead of for pleasure. The air is warm and clean and my heart is full to bursting. All my worries of learning a new language and integrating myself into a new culture slip away and there is nothing but blue skies and green fields and me.


May 1, 2006 colza field

i can take a hint

Well, thanks to your overwhelming response to my last post (*crickets*), you can be assured that I won't bother you again with such trifles as yarn or needles or wool or anything to do with knitting altogether.

Lucky for me, I've been invited to join the fabulous knitting divas of KNOTs! If you're are a knitter (albeit a silent one!) or are interested in knitting, please come check us out!

And, to the relief of most of you, I will have a good old fashioned fish outta water post for you tomorrow. Dispatches from France will finally get back on track!

yet another knitting post

Yes, I'm aware that I am in grave danger of turning this into a knitting blog, and I assure you that this is not at all my intention. Luckily, I may have another outlet for blathering on about my new obsession at my disposal soon, so please bear with me. If you're not at all a knitter, please go on down to the end of the post - I could still use some great advice!



I don't know how I did it, but at 11:00pm Friday night I actually finished up this sucker! I left the weaving to do in the morning and laid my weary head to rest. I cannot believe I flew through five skeins of yarn in less than a week! I have to tell you though, knitting with such a short deadline really sucks the fun out of it and I'll be sure to avoid that in the future whenever possible.



My mother-in-law really liked the dishcloths I made. I'm so glad these went to a good home - they're really fun to knit but I'm more of a sponge person than a dishcloth person.

When my father-in-law came in and settled into his armchair, Steph prodded me on to present the scarf. "J'ai une p'tite chose que j'ai fait pour ton anniversaire*," I said smiling as I presented it. "Une p'tite chose," he repeated, as he unfolded it. "Une p'tite chose, eh?" he laughed as he unfolded it again to its full five feet in length. He thanked me and set it aside, and it was over in an instant, but I think he really liked it.

So now I'm moving on...

Click the photo to see a bigger version

This is a swatch of yarn that I'd like to use for my next project. This is Patons Classic Wool Merino in "Denim Marl" and was destashed to me by my knitting guide. I've got three skeins of 223 yards each. I've been thinking about using it to try my first project in the round. My first thought was to try a placket neck baby sweater, but I'm afraid that with 100% wool it may be too itchy for a wee one. Then I thought maybe I could try my luck with an easy hat, but then I thought that it may be too itchy for delicate heads such as my own.

So that's where you come in: what do you think this yarn should be when it grows up?

* "I have a little something I made for your birthday."

Update: Late last night I thrust the swatch at Steph and asked him if he thought it would be too itchy for a baby, and he said no, but what the hell do we know? If anybody out there is familiar with Patons Classic Merino, could you please tell me what you think? Thankee!

a short note

Dear Mom and Dad,

Happy Anniversary. I didn't forget! :)

I love you and miss you, and Steph sends his love.

Love forever,

V.

You asked for it, you got it: WiP Wednesday

Papa's scarf - WiP
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

Well, here it is! This gorgeous thing is going to be a gift for my beau-pere, if I can get it finished in time. This pattern comes from Stitch and Bitch Nation and is called "Mom's Sophisticated Scarf," but I've made an executive decision that it's suitable for papas as well. I'm using Berroco's Pure Merino Heather, which I bought in Boston. I really wanted to use the pattern's recommended wool (Karabella Aurora 8), but when the shopkeeper told me she didn't have any, she pointed me in this direction. Despite its being a bit thicker, when Carrie and I spotted this color, we both fell in love with it. I don't know if you can tell in the photo, but besides being this lovely purpley/dark blue color, it has some gorgeous flecks of raspberry in it as well. Plus, it's so soft and lovely to work with! I was concerned about how it was going to size up, but it's clocking in at 9.5 inches wide, which is two inches wider than the pattern, so I think we're doing alright.

The real challenge is that I'm one and a half skeins through, with three skeins to go, and I've got to try to finish this up by Saturday. Yeah, this Saturday. My father-in-law's birthday is Sunday, and we just happen to have an appointment in Troyes on Saturday morning, so it seems natural to be able to give it to him then (plus my mother-in-law's ballband dishcloths, since her birthday was at the beginning of the month). I'm making myself crosseyed with all the fevered knitting, but after a disastrous mistake last night while watching tv, which resulted in frogging about five rows, I've learned to walk away at least every hour or so and do something housewifey. Who knows, maybe I'll get it done, and maybe I won't, but I don't mind a challenge now and then!

Oh - and yeah, I'm using circular needles, only because I happen to have circular needles in the right size, but not straight ones. I actually did my misty garden scarf with circular needles too, and I confess I like doing straight work on circular needles - I'm so clumsy that, with this method, I don't have to worry about catapulting needles across the room!

upheaval

The last couple of days have been full of pacing, chain smoking, binge eating and staring off into space. And that's just Steph.

We have finally made a decision about what we want to do and how we want to get there. There will be quite a lot of work in the future, but for now my work is to support my husband, because in order to get where we want to be, he has to drastically change his career path, starting immediately. The biggest change won't really happen until next year, and that's if everything goes perfectly, but they say that even a journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step, and Steph made that one yesterday.

Yeah, I'm still playing my cards close to my chest, but I'll explain everything when the time is right. The main reason I wanted to write this is to put down in words that my husband is taking a huge leap of faith, stepping way outside his comfort zone, and he's doing it for us, and I've never been more proud to be his wife than this moment.

knitting freak

Seriously, though. I'm knitting like a madwoman. I'm actually scheduling my day around taking time to knit, and I'm spending time thinking of things I can do while I'm knitting. Don't worry, I'm sure it's Newbie Obsession and it will calm down. Eventually.

I wanted to show you my latest finishes. I was thinking about picking out a day of the week to do a WIP (work in progress) post, but what do y'all think? Would that bore you to tears? Anyway, here's what I've got:


This is the first project I started! I finally got it done a couple of days after I got back, and passed it over to Steph. He immediately threw it around his neck and wore it for the rest of the evening. The wacky part was when he was reading in bed - he was still wearing it! I asked him what was up, and he said, "You made it for me and I'm going to wear it!" And he did - all night long. And then he wore it the next night, too! He says it's going to be his inside scarf. I'm telling myself that it's because it's so super soft that he wants to relax with it, and not because he doesn't want to be seen in it (it is, after all, my first project - not exactly perfectly gorgeous up close).


Ballband dishcloths! These were actually really fun to make, and they're super quick to do. The colors are probably not ones I would have picked out myself, but they were gifted to me, and I hope the person who gifted me doesn't mind knowing that I'm probably going to gift them to someone else! I'm thinking about giving them to my mother-in-law as a belated birthday present, because she has a reputation for being a fanatical cleaner. These will certainly brighten up her kitchen, and if she doesn't want to get them dirty, I can even see her using them to set hot dishes on.

Meanwhile, I've just started working on a scarf with the gorgeous soft wool I brought back from the States. My father-in-law's birthday is also in March, so I'm thinking that if I can knock this one out a little quick, I can present them both at the end of the month (hopefully I'll have a little leeway, since both gifts are handmade!). This scarf is going to be really nice, I think, with a basketweave pattern, but I just realized that it begins and ends with six rows of seed stitch. Here's a question for you knitters ('cause if you've read this far, you must be one) - do you think a seed stitch is going to look too feminine on a man's scarf?

a surprise outing

When Steph came home from work Tuesday evening, he managed to shock me so much that I was sure his evil twin was standing before me.

"If I'm not too tired tomorrow, maybe we could go out for dinner."

Now, what you've got to understand is that this, coming from the self-proclaimed "bear who prefers hibernation all year long," whom I have to beg to just come outside for a walk, nevermind meeting up with actual people, was paramount to asking me if I wished to revive the Concorde to go visit my sister for the evening. For a few moments I was too shocked to say anything more than "Really?" and "Sure!"

But after the shock wore off, I realized that there must be some other reason. I remembered vividly an evening approximately two years ago, when Steph came home from work one evening and said, "Tonight is the annual dinner in a nice restaurant for my department - we have to leave in half an hour." Er...

So, not wanting to be caught off guard, I asked if we were going to be meeting other people. Eventually I got the whole story out of him - his colleague was performing a two-man show in a bar in Troyes, and Steph thought we could make an evening out of it. Dinner and a show? In the middle of the (sacred) week? I couldn't believe my luck!

Well, you should know us better than that.

Actually, it turned out fine; we went to a restaurant we've been going to a lot lately in the historic district (and ate the same thing I usually order - I don't know what's come over me! I figure the added bonus of eating out [besides the obvious pleasure of not having to cook] is eating things you don't normally make at home, and I blew it, but it was still good, anyway...) and since the restaurants were mainly empty, we took our sweet time getting to the bar. We had a nice little stroll around the shopping district before getting to our destination, which was packed. Where the hell did all these people come from? They must have been camped there for a while (we obviously had stumbled into the current Troyes hotspot) because there was no sign at all of all these people out in the streets who were now crammed into a tiny bar with a small stage set up at one end. There was nowhere to sit and there was nowhere to stand without being in the way, so after taking a moment to assess the situation, I left it up to Steph if he wanted to stay (I could have gone either way, honestly), and since he decided that his colleague had plenty of support without his, we hit the road.

Not to waste the evening, we swung by the cinema to see if any good movies were playing, and there were - but we had missed all the start times by as little as ten minutes. There wasn't even anyone in the ticket booths, so no dice. All not being totally lost, we thought we'd pop into the bar next door and have a quick drink before driving home, but alas, the bar has turned into a fancy sit-down restaurant. By that time we could finally read the writing on the wall and headed home, where we watched a few episodes of season four of La Maison Blanche (maybe you remember it better as The West Wing), which had arrived while I was out of town.

It was still nice to leave the house during the sacred work week, and I made sure to tell The Bear I thought so.

stuck in to scanning

Dad's 30th birthday
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

Man, this is going to take ages, but at least it's fun work. I'm working on scanning the photos I brought back in my suitcase. It's been two hours and I've only scanned about two and a half pages of pictures! I love looking at photos of my parents when they were newlyweds, plus I've found a few photos that were hidden behind others that I've never seen before. Anyway, I'll be sharing some of my favorites on my flickr feed, if you're interested in the fashions of the early 1970's.

In other news, I learned today that, contrary to what my grandmother says, honey does, in fact, go bad. Yesterday I finally saw strawberries at the grocery, so I picked up some oatmeal as well so I could make my favorite breakfast. Unfortunately, I realized too late that oatmeal with strawberries with crusty old honey that I've had since last Spring only makes a big bowl of nasty goo. I'll run out later to restock my honey supply so I can try again tomorrow.

a bit of a ramble

I've actually been quite busy these last few days. The interesting thing is that, unlike usually, it is a busy-ness of my own doing, with a kind of "take the bull by the horns" attitude. It's a nice change, really.

The first few days back were spent mostly getting over jet lag and unpacking and just spending time with the hubby (this often involves a couple of computers but we're nerdy like that). Friday night we went to my brother-in-law's home for dinner, where we ate fish ("So, do you like fish?" Steph: "Yes!" Vivi: "Er...") but in a totally new (to me) way that at least made it entertaining. It was kind of the same idea as raclette, only it was a dish of boiling bouillabaisse which you dipped a morsel of raw fish into and helped yourself to the steaming veggies on top of the contraption. Way healthier, but not nearly as fun as raclette. Anyway, that was a good visit, and I seemed to have benefited from my three weeks outside of France as I was actually able to spit out a real conversation.

Saturday was just a lovely lazy day that went by way too fast, and then Sunday we had guests! Doc and family came by for an afternoon visit, and lucky for us the weather was perfect! Blue skies and just cool enough for a cardigan, we took a saunter down to the park and had a good chat while Doc's oldest took command of all the playground. After a snack and a chat around the table, we sent them on their way with promises to return the favor next weekend.

Today, Steph headed back to work after his two week winter break and I got down and dirty with some cleaning supplies and a sponge in the bathroom. Nothing like chemical fumes to say "Welcome Home!" I'd love to bitch about having to clean, but the truth is it was kind of nice to get myself in gear so fast (what the hell is wrong with me?). After lunch, I absconded with the car and went grocery shopping in Troyes. I had just enough time to put everything away and knit a little while watching a tv show that I may or may not have downloaded (thanks again Flare!) before going to pick up Steph from work. I think the continued gorgeous weather got the better of Steph, however, because I passed him walking home! Well, he looked like he was having such a nice walk that I passed him on the way back and let him finish up his walk! Meh, don't fret, it's only a fifteen minute walk in the first place, it was good for him!

The wackiest thing of all is simply this: I feel really, really good. Ever since I came home, I've felt like I'm really ready to make a plan of what I'm going to do with my life here and I'm even taking steps to achieve it. Maybe I just needed to get this business of Dad's house behind me, or maybe it's just as little as this beautiful weather we're seeing right now, but I'm looking towards the future with a hopeful heart, ready for the work that lies ahead. I've got tons of little crafty projects lined up to keep me entertained and while I'm making plans to take over the world take control of my future, I'm taking pride in the little things I do everyday to make this home a happy one. I am HAPPY!

And then I look at the calendar and see that it's only five months since Dad died. Then I kind of feel guilty for feeling like this. Is this even normal? What the heck is wrong with me?!

the fastest day ever

Man, today just flew by. I slept about 12 hours last night, thanks to jet lag, and of course now I'm not tired at all. But I digress - Today I caught up on some of my internet obsessions (blogs, photos, webcomics), went to the grocery and the post office (my mirror is already here!) and unpacked some more. Here's a few of the things I brought back:

My first finished knitting project!

I started it the day I arrived and worked on it an hour or two every night, which was cool because that was mostly "hanging out with Grandma watching tv" time. I got it done just in time to wear it to Boston!

The best surprise ever!

I found these granny squares while unpacking a mirror that had been boxed up for ten years. Mom had used knitting for packing materials! She was so resourceful. Heaven only knows how old they are, but they were done in good old acrylic (!!), so they're not falling apart anytime soon. I'm gonna have to do some research on granny square afghans so I can learn how to put it all together!

More yarn stash!

I bought Stitch and Bitch Nation while I was over there and I picked out a few projects that I could buy yarn for and bring home with me. Here you see big ole skeins of wool that will one day be a messenger bag, and some really lovely soft Merino wool that's going to become a scarf with a basket weave pattern. The needle case comes from my new friend Lenore's store, Rave Knits (I've linked her Myspace page since the web site seems to be under construction) in Concord, NC. By the way, if you're in the area, She has got an incredible array of yarn in her shop, not to mention that it's a really comfy place to kick back and knit - I highly recommend it. If you stop by, be sure to tell Lenore that Vivi said "Hey!"

And finally...

I uploaded some Boston pics! So I arrived in Boston on Thursday afternoon, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and all was well, albeit cold and wet, on Friday, as we ran some errands in the rain and I snapped photos from the comfort of the car. But we made a fatal error in our choice of meals for lunch, because either my won ton soup or the crab rangoon tasted really fantastic on the way down, but hurt like a bitch on the way back up about six hours later. We had managed to make it to Windsor Button to buy the yarn before I started feeling wonky and it went right downhill from there. Saturday morning I felt well enough for the drive to Salem (woo witches!), armed with Gatoraide, and we did manage to do a little sightseeing, though I had to take numerous breaks (for sitting down; my digestive tract was in too much shock to do anything else). We made it back to Boston to visit the Coolest Vintage Store Ever (and it's probably a damn good thing I felt so bad or I would have torn that place apart, it was so damn awesome!) before going to a really amazing restaurant called The Blue Room (where I ate exactly two leaves of lettuce and a piece of bread. This sucked most of all because Carrie had made the reservations before I arrived and we all really wanted to go). Anyway if you're looking for a great restaurant in the Cambridge area, check it out - it's definitely a casual chic kind of place and the menu was super interesting. Finally, on Sunday, I managed to eat a pancake or two before we went to Harvard Square for a last round of shopping and a visit to the Institute of Contemporary Art (of Divine Fart mural fame). It is absolutely criminal that I forgot my camera in the car, because while photos are expressly forbidden in the galleries, it was an unbelievably gorgeous afternoon and the museum offers some spectacular views. Ah well, maybe one day I'll get a second chance. Then it was straight to the airport, back to NC and of course now here I am.

As always, you can click on the photos to be swept away to my flickr feed, where you can see more photos of Boston. Now I've got to figure out how to tire myself out so I can get back on a decent sleep schedule!

and now back to our regularly scheduled program

Yes, I'm back home! The last few days have been an absolute whirlwind. Boston was great, but thanks to a nasty bout of food poisoning (it's gonna be a long while before I can look a plate of Chinese food in the face again), we didn't get to do as much as we had hoped, but catching up with my oldest friend in the world was totally worth it all. Then it was back to North Carolina for packing and tying up loose ends, and here I am, jet lagged but happily reunited with Steph.

Over the next few days, I'll be unpacking and sharing with you some of the goodies I brought back - this time comfort foods had to be set aside to make room for more important things, like tons of photographs to be scanned and organized, plus a few other surprises. Then there's making the rounds to say hello to the inlaws, checking in on all the blog action I've been missing and getting the house back into order. I've definitely got a full plate! Best of all, for the first time, I really feel like I've come home.

vivi lives 2: electric boogaloo

Oh man, I'm exhausted. The good news is that everything is going ahead of schedule!! Don't worry, there's still time to everything to go haywire...

The sale went on without a hitch, seriously exceeding expectations. Everything that wasn't bolted down was either sold off or picked up by Habitat for Humanity just this morning. I've got a room or two to vaccum still and we are outta there! I'll finally have a little downtime before we close on the house Wednesday afternoon.

I'd better recover quick, because I've just booked my ticket to BOSTON for Thursday! I cannot wait but I can't really express it because I'm so tired. Believe me, I'm jumping up and down on the inside.

I'd better get off of here as I've only got seven minutes left before I'm ejected from the library computer, so y'all take care and I'll catch up again with you soon!

vivi lives!

Yes, yes, all is well. I'm in a public library which offers free internet access, but I've only got an hour so I've got to make this quick so I can check my email and try to take a peek at what my fellow bloggers are up to.

Anyway, things are rolling along. I was extremely lucky coming through Philly last Tuesday, as my flight had been canceled but I managed to get on an earlier flight. I ran through two concourses to get to my plane, where they shut the door right behind me and where we sat on the plane at the gate waiting for the snow, which by then had turned to sleet, to ease up so we could take off. Two hours later and a quick run through the de-icing procedure and we were on our way. The icing on the cake was discovering that my luggage had been thrown on the same plane as well and I actually arrived at Charlotte around the same time I was supposed to arrive in the first place, so I didn't have long to wait for my sister.

I celebrated Valentine's Day at the weekly church supper with my Grandmother, her sister and their friends, which is exactly how I'd choose to spend it, provided I'm in a different country from my husband. Hope y'all got some love last week!

Saturday night I got my drink on with some of my best friends from college (one of whom drove six hours just for the occassion!). I consumed way more red wine than I thought was possible but the company was beyond excellent and, as is southern tradition, we recovered the next day by sopping up any leftover alcohol with a good greasy breakfast (at noon).

Well, that's my first week here. This week will be much more stressful, with all the preperations of the huge "moving sale" at Dad's house Saturday. I spent most of the day at the house going through boxes and slapping price tags on items, and I've barely scratched the surface. Hopefully the calvary will be coming in soon to give me a hand. Y'all have a great week and I'll update when I can!

what the hell?

Because the clothes dryer being broken wasn't enough, now the iron's shorting out the electricity.

I mean, honestly!

So I'm packing and cleaning and cooking and baking and candlestick-making and running out to the grocery a little later... it's all chaos around here, really. We'll be getting up before the butt-crack of dawn so I can catch the 7:14 train which is a half hour's drive away and then it's around twenty-four hours of traveling fun! (woo.) Please, everyone, think positive thoughts that I won't be grounded in Philadelphia (though I've just peeked at weather.com and it seems they're not expecting snow until very late tomorrow). Posting will be extremely light over the next three weeks or so, because I'll be staying with my darling Grandma, who has a computer and (vaguely) knows how to use it, but it is on dial-up (bless her heart), but I'll do what I can.

I would also like to say that I dearly hope that this will be my last extended trip away from Steph for a very long time, if not forever. The long distance thing absolutely sucks and I hate it. I mean, that is why we got married in the first place.

Right, now I've got to go figure out what to do with all these t-shirts which, thanks to the enormous amount of calcium in French water, now closely resemble wrinkled cardboard. Have fun and be nice to each other while I'm gone!

first finish!

first finish!
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

So since I was waiting for the rest of the yarn for Steph's scarf to arrive, I decided to start a new project, just for me. While in Paris, Flare introduced me to the wonder of Noro Kureyon 100% wool yarn. After buying a couple of skeins, I had to decide what I was going to do with it.

I used to think fingerless gloves were kind of silly, but now that we have to keep our heat at a reasonable setting because it's so expensive, my hands are often too cold to type. Now that I'd found something practical to make with my new yarn, Flare and I set out to find a pattern that was debutante-accessible. These super quick knits were done flat, with about 2.5 inches of ribbing, followed by 2.5 inches of stockinette and finally about a half inch of ribbing at the top. I had hoped to use up one skein for these, but I ended up having lots left over; if I'd known, I would have happily made the sleeves a bit longer. Oh, well, I'll know for next time.

In order to tie all the colors in the gloves together, my next project will be to make a scarf with the same yarn (that's why I ran back to Bon Marché on Friday - to get more Noro!). After flipping through Flare's knitting library, I settled on the Misty Garden pattern by Jo Sharp. That yarn, plus the yarn I'd ordered to finish Steph's scarf, are all coming with me to the States and hopefully they'll be finished by the time I get back.

paris hurts my wallet

Good gracious I'm beat. I guess constantly walking across Paris for a few days will do that to a person. Man, I had such a great time, though!!

I arrived Wednesday afternoon chez Flare, just in time for some lunch. Afterwards, we were visited by this charming young man - what a heartbreaker! Then we went across town to the Bon Marché, where the cashier relieved me of the heavy burden of all the cash I had on me (the knitting obsession? alive and well, thankyouverymuch). After a quick stop at the épicerie across the street (cheddar! root beer!), we headed back home, where I made my favorite new recipe, chicken noodle casserole. Hey, I figure that if I've got free room and board for a visit to the City of Light, the least I can do is whip up a little casserole, right?

Thursday was a very exciting day, because we met up with the dashingly handsome Mickelino! We traded our life stories over delicious Korean delicacies and if time permitted I think we could have chatted for hours and hours. I have been a huge fan of his blog for ages now, so it was a real thrill to finally meet him face to face. Thursday evening, after accompanying Flare to an English lesson (wow, what a fun and innovative teacher she is!), I made my debut at a weekly knitting circle! Oh my goodness - knitting, gossip and snacks - who knew it could be so fun? I finished my first project there, but you'll have to be a little patient for that as pictures are forthcoming. Anyway, it was a virtual who's who of Paris' knitting bloggers: She was there, as well as her and her! (I didn't leave someone out, did I?)

Yesterday, Flare had a prenatal class, so I went back to Bon Marché, because I am, in fact, a glutton for punishment, and then I got on a packed train and came home.

And I. Am. Exhausted. Good grief, three days doing actual normal things like going shopping and visiting with friends and I am wiped! I must get back into the habit of actually going on walks and such. This is ridiculous. Plus, I only have three days before I leave and I have so much to do, I don't even know where to start. So, if I can get my head on straight, I will take some photos of what I'm working on and what goodies I picked up to feed the knitting monster.

Also: I was forced to switch to the new Blogger thingie today. I hope the page looks ok, because I honestly don't have time to futz with it.

Also also: I would like to extend an enormous THANK YOU to all of you that I meet up with for your hospitality, your kindness and your friendship. Please make me do this more often - it's good for my sanity! If I missed you on this go-around, don't worry, I think there will be more sanity visits in the future!

travel plans

Yes, friends, the next few weeks I shall be On The Go! First up, as I mentioned before, I'm going to Paris on Wednesday for a couple of days for some much needed girlie time. Then, thanks to the fact that we have a buyer for Dad's house (after only four months on the market! Ha ha ha ha HA!) and I need to be a part of the estate sale, go through my parent's possessions one more time and take the opportunity to be there to sign the closing papers, I am getting on a big jet plane next Tuesday and will be in the States for right at three weeks. God willin' and the creek don't rise, this will be my last extended holiday (which is hardly a holiday) without my husband, because that part of it just sucks. This will also most likely be my last visit for a good long while, so I want to visit with as many friends as I can. If all goes according to plan, I may even get on a smaller plane to go visit with my oldest friend in the world, whom I haven't seen in TEN FREAKING YEARS. I reeeeeeeeally want to make that one happen!

In other news, I am just pleased as punch that I received a package from Amazon.co.uk this morning - the Eddie Izzard box set! Thank you, Amazon, for putting this set at half price so I could have my favorite comedian in all his glory!! Now I just have to pace myself, because if I watch all six DVDs back to back, my torso will explode from laughing too hard.

if it can go wrong, it will

Sounds like a fatalistic attitude? Nah, it's just a plain simple fact of my life. Here's a few examples:

* Remember our broken clothes dryer? Steph thinks that Big Appliance Store Chain has some kind of deal that if one of their repairmen can't fix your appliance, some of the money you would have paid for the repairs can go towards a new appliance from that store. We drove to Troyes yesterday (to run many different errands, as you will see) and stopped by the Big Appliance Store Chain to speak to someone in the SAV department (Service Après Vente, literally Service After Sales) if this were true. Of course, we were given a phone number to call where all our questions in this area would be answered, plus we can make an appointment at that time, too. Steph and I looked at each other in wonder - we're standing in the store but have to go home and call a number. Incredible.

* The car is simply falling apart now, which I suppose is its right after ten years of service. The driver's side window is broken (electric windows are lovely until they don't work) and slowly slides down as you drive, so when you stop you have to slap your hands on either side of the window to push it back up again. If it was any other window (and not the middle of winter) I'm not sure we'd care, since we're planning on replacing the car later this year, but not being able to take parking lot tickets or pay the tolls on the autoroute without getting out of the car is a pain in the rear. At least we were able to pick up the right brake light in Troyes yesterday for the one that blew out.

* So, I'm a bit knitting obsessed at the moment. Steph likes the scarf I'm working on, so it's going to be for him. I've done all I can do with the yarn I have and it's only long enough to throw it jauntily over one shoulder, so I've offered to double it for him (yes, I know the colors may be a bit off since the likelihood of finding the same lot is next to impossible since I bought the yarn online). Steph and I both seem to remember that there is a Phildar shop right in the middle of the shopping district in Troyes. My memory is iffy, but if Phildar is a name that sticks out in my husband's head, we surely can't be wrong, right? So I put off ordering more yarn since we're going to Troyes on Saturday, where we discover that what we thought was a Phildar shop was really something else entirely. I came home quite depressed because this meant that I would have to wait until the middle of next week to receive my order of yarn, which I ordered online first thing after walking in the door, and my anxious fingers don't want to wait.

Basically, we went all the way to Troyes yesterday to buy a new brake light, which we could have done here.

At least the weather was pretty.

Anyway, these may sound like petty annoyances but I promise you, these are simply the tip of the iceburg. Besides, everyone's entitled to a little bitching and moaning now and again, right? So, would you like a little cheese with my whine?

go, speed racer, go!

I think when Americans think of the European lifestyle, they imagine a slower-paced, relaxed way of living. Two hour lunches, shorter work weeks, long vacations, dinners that never end. This is a stereotype, but in every stereotype, there is a nugget of truth.

With one exception: when that laid back Frenchman slips behind the wheel of a car. Suddenly, all bets are off.

Oh, I've seen it all - being tailgated at 100 kph, cars passing me as if I were standing still on a two lane country road, or trying to pass two or three semi trucks at once and swerving back into the right lane between two trucks at the last moment. People are so speed crazy here, it's enough to make you want to breathe a quick prayer before getting in the car yourself.

A couple of days ago, the normally thirty minute drive to Troyes took close to an hour, thanks to a road crew shutting down a short section of one lane to repair a guard rail. Since it was close to lunch time, there were a good number of cars backed up, waiting our turn to cross into the left lane and get on our way. In the meantime, there were several drivers who were obviously so important they couldn't be bothered to wait patiently to get past the roadwork, so they sprinted to the head of the queue and ended up turning around and speeding away in the other direction. Since the only other way into Troyes is by tiny country lanes that pass through even more villages than the main road, I can't imagine how much longer it took them to get to their intended destination. The topper was when I finally got to the head of the line, the impatient jerk behind me, warbling away on into his phone headset (which I'm pretty sure is illegal in France), mistook my millisecond of hesitation for incompetency and actually tried to pass me. I know he didn't hear the obscenities I yelled at him, but I felt better.

Anyone else have some fun road warrior stories?

it's electric

I was chatting with KylieMac yesterday, complaining about our clothes dryer woes, and in talking about how we discovered that it was indeed the dryer that was tripping the fuse, she suggested I write a little post about electricity in France and how it's different than in the States.

So how is it different? Well, for one thing, getting electricity turned on for your new abode isn't as simple as calling up the electric company and paying for what you use. Here in France, when you call, you'll be asked for an accounting of all your electrical appliances. For us, that includes the refrigerator, the dish washer, the television, the two computers, the clothes washer and dryer and all the radiators, of which there is one in each room. The electric company rep then makes an estimate of how much electricity you will need as well as your payment schedule. Once that's set, you'll pay a fixed amount each month for ten months and then on the eleventh month you'll either pay the balance or receive a refund.

If you're playing at home and want a comparison, our monthly payment is right around 100 euros a month. It took the first couple of weeks to get adjusted to the number of appliances that could run at the same time before tripping the fuse - the computers can run with the clothes washer or the dish washer, but never both washers at the same time. Same goes with the washer and dryer, or the dryer and the dish washer. Of course, we could have the amount of electricity increased, but that means our monthly payment would be increased as well. With careful timing, all runs smoothly.

Then you have discounted hours - running appliances between the hours of 12:00pm - 2:00pm and 11:00pm - 7:00am will save you quite a bit of money. For this purpose, our dish washer has a timer on it so it can run in the middle of the night and the water heater waits until the dead of night to replenish itself, but other than that, it's a matter of paying attention to the hour - trying to remember to turn the laundry on at lunchtime, for example.

At first, I thought the idea of paying for electricity on a fixed schedule was just on this side of ridiculous, but Steph reminded me that it would likely save us a huge headache, as the radiators running nonstop would result in sky high bills in winter contrasted with quite low bills in summer. Now I rather like the idea. I once explained all of this to my Dad, who assured me that this option was available in the States as well, but I'd never heard of it.

The only other thing to mention, in case you didn't pick it up, is that electricity is crazy expensive here! It's for this reason that we wait as long as we can before turning on the radiators in autumn and turn them off as soon as we can stand it in the spring. Of course, there are other ways to heat a home (gas radiators, etc.) but as we're renting, we didn't get that choice - or to be more precise, we weighed the cost of rent with the knowledge that we would be paying X amount more a month because of the electric radiators.

I believe that about covers it. Am I leaving anything out, my fellow Frenchies?

The bad part about all this is that I hadn't even thought of blogging about this - either I'm getting used to the differences of living here or I'm just being a lazy blogger. I'm afraid the latter may be true. Bad blogger!

when appliances betray you

Last week, we discovered that the sèche-linge, or clothes dryer, isn't working right. To be honest, it's worse than that - it's blowing out the fuse, knocking out all of the electricity. At first I didn't realize the dryer was the culprit - this took several rounds of process of elimination and a few trips outside to turn the electricity back on.

So now that we know it's the dryer, we've got to figure out what to do about it. Steph wants to have a crack at it before we call someone in. The thing is about seven years old so it may just have given up the ghost and that's all. In the meantime, I must hang everything to dry and then *shudder* iron everything, thanks to the enormously high amounts of calcium in French water, which leaves clothes as stiff starch. Gee, and I was afraid of being bored. Ha! Who has time?

Meanwhile, I am well and truly obsessed with knitting. I started my first real project last night, with quite a lot of help and guidance from Flare, with the aid of my flickr feed and a barrage of emails. If I haven't said it yet, thanks, Flare, for your patience while I wig out over my new obsession!

Plus, if things go well, I may be making a visit to the City of Light next week. Flare's going to take me on a knitting-related shopping spree. I'd better leave the bank card at home...

where were you?

It's been a good long while since I've done a meme, plus I told Mickelino I'd do it, and I wouldn't want to go back on my word. If you like the looks of it, please do it and let me know in the comments section so I can link you back!

1) Where were you when Armstrong first walked on the Moon?

My parents didn't even know each other yet. I was a wee sparkle in mah dear Daddy's eye.

2) Where were you when you heard Princess Di had died?

In bed; I had just woken up and the first thing I used to do was switch on the tv. The tv was still on CNN from the night before. I guess they had reported that she'd been in an accident before I went to sleep. I don't think I burst into tears, but I was definitely sad because I was only eight or nine years old when she was married and it really was like a fairy tale, so I was always a little sentimental about her.

3) Where were you on New Year’s Eve of 1999/2000?

Ugh. At my ex's house, where he lived with his mother. He wouldn't go out because his mother was terrified of the Y2K bug. I should have left him to celebrate with his mommy and gone downtown alone. But then, there's a lot of things I should have done where that ex is concerned. Next!

4) Where were you on Sept.11, 2001?

I could do a whole blog post about that day because I remember so many little details. I was at work in my little office when a guy from the bay (part of our business was installing sirens and radars into government vehicles) and said that a plane had flown into the WTC. I immediately pictured a dinky Cessna bouncing off a skyscraper; I scoffed and said, "Well, that was stupid." Of course it went downhill from there. My mother, a native New Yorker, was supposed to go to New York that Friday for a memorial for her uncle. At one point I told her I didn't think she'd be going, and she said, "Oh, they'll have it cleaned up by the end of the week." I think she meant it more as a testament to the fortitude of New Yorkers but maybe we didn't know the extent of the disaster yet. I didn't actually see any footage until I got home that evening - we had plenty of radios but no televisions and I couldn't get anything online to work. I cried every night for a week until I finally just stopped watching television.

5) Where were you when you first heard about the big 2004 Tsunami?

Our old apartment was really only two rooms, so our bedroom was also where we put the tv, the computers and where we usually ate. I remember seeing the footage on tv sitting in bed. Thailand is a very popular vacation destination for Europeans but happily we didn't know anyone that was there. I just had the feeling that this was another example of the world going to hell in a handbasket.

6) Where were you when you first heard that Madonna would go on tour last year?

I was just wondering where I could find a current example of the phrase "jumping the shark." Since I'm reading the Dark Tower series, I can just hear Susannah say, "Honey, the world has moved on."

back to craftin'

three little words #5
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

Remember this old thing? I haven't work on this marquoir since the beginning of last summer, because it was just to hot to sit with all that fabric draped over me. I picked it up again a couple of months ago and picked at it here and there between making books as Christmas gifts. I finally just finished it up this section today, but I'm none too happy with it. A lot of the pieces aren't adding up and I can't find where the mistakes are, which will be bad, bad news when I get to the next section. I hope I don't have to call this a wash or start over now that I'm nearly half way through it. You can see the rest of the pieces here.

Meanwhile, I finally caved in and decided to learn how to knit. I resisted forever and then suddenly, out of the blue, I decided that it would be a nice change to have some kind of crafting hobby that was actually practical. I can't even explain it - out of nowhere I desperately wanted to know how to do it. I am under the tutelage of master knitter Flare and have bought my first skeins and needles (you can see them in my flickr feed by clicking on the photo) and I'm going to be studying this site to get me started. Wish me luck!

winter is back

Yep, winter is back in full force and it's snowing everywhere in France except here. Something about the Champagne Plain makes the snow want to divide and avoid us, like a pothole in the middle of a street. Though, to be fair, it did try to flurry a little yesterday, but nothing stuck. At least it feels more like winter, small comfort as it is.

Nothing much else to report really; Steph is home sick and is going to the doctor this afternoon. Everything else is waiting... waiting for one thing to happen so I can start this project or that project. I'm in a holding pattern. "Hurry up and wait" should be my motto.

the language lottery*

As I mentioned in my last post, something as simple as running errands can go a long way in making me feel more at home here. The truth is, interacting with those around me often does turn out to be something of a crap shoot. Days like Friday, where everything goes smoothly, are becoming more frequent, but there are still days where I'm left a trembling mess, because either I haven't understood a word or I just can't find the words to say what I want. Worse yet, I know what I want to say and the words just won't come out.

And then there are moments that pass into the bizarre. I ran another errand last week and the proprietor who usually helps me was busy with another customer, so her assistant came to help me out. Now, the proprietor knows I'm American, always teases me about my accent, and since I usually order the same thing she knows what I'm going to say before I say it.

The assistant didn't know what I was going to order, but she finally got it right after a series of hand gestures accompanying my bad pronunciation. As she was ringing me up, I smiled apologetically and muttered, "Oui, je sais... mon accent..."

She perked up and smiled and said, "Ah oui? Vous êtes belge?" Suddenly, it was everything I could do to not burst out laughing.

You see, I've never been mistaken for being Belgian before.



*I wish I came up with this phrase, which sums up my predicament perfectly, but it comes to us from the amazing Karla, who mentioned it in the comments of my last post. Hope you don't mind, K!

the butcher's shop

I'm trying a new recipe today - Italian sausage soup - and I couldn't find ground pork at the grocery store last night (to be more specific, the ground pork at the grocery store didn't look that fresh), so I decided to visit my friendly neighborhood boucherie this morning.

The wind was still a little strong in our lane and my hair stood on end as I made my way to the main street. At the corner, I passed the chevaline on by (I may be more adventurous in my cuisine now but I don't think I'll ever attempt a dish with horse meat) and walked two more blocks to the butcher's shop. Two older ladies were already waiting for the bouchère to make her appearance, who is herself an older woman. I don't think I've ever seen someone as young as me here in the butcher's shop. We all say "bonjour" to each other, as is customary when you enter a shop, whether you know the others or not.

The butcher arrives and another round of "bonjour mesdames" ring through the tiny shop. The first woman places her order - a bit of chopped meat here, a portion of pressed meat wrapped in pastry there, and a few slices of gorgeous ham already loaded on the automatic slicer that reminds me of the same contraption found at grocery stores back home. A round of "au revoir mesdames" are called out as she leaves.

The second orders up a few pork chops. The butcher, a small woman with short peppery hair and a green cardigan, produces an enormous knife and whacks at the side of pork until four perfectly identical pork chops are stacked up and wrapped in brown paper. "Au revoir mesdames," says the customer as she reaches for the door, almost under her breath without eye contact. Whether one means it or not, these formalities must be followed.

It's my turn, and I smile as I order my "trois cent grammes de chair au saucisse, s'il vous plait." She smiles back and scoops up the ground pork, which is lovely and dark pink, such a contrast to the great big tub of rather colorless pork I'd seen the night before. I asked myself again why I don't shop here more often. I wished her a good day and head out the door.

I love days like this, returning home with the meat wrapped in brown paper, a subsequently purchased baugette tucked under one arm, and thank my lucky stars again that I get to do this. It's just a small transaction, but every small transaction like this makes me feel more at home. It makes me feel light and happy for the rest of the day - and just from buying a little more than half a pound of pork at the butcher's shop.

howling

After several sleepless nights, I succumbed to a nap yesterday afternoon. I am not a nappy person, so I was consequently awake at midnight, staring at the ceiling and listening to Steph's snores compete with the wind howling down our lane, throwing raindrops against the skylights in uneven intervals. Eventually, Steph won, driving me to the office/guest room. I made my nest on the pull out couch, read a couple of chapters, listened to the wind roar as it rattled shutters and me, a little.

A tempest is making its way across France, again today. The sky is bullet gray, the wind is still screaming down the lane. I'm back in my personal fog but trying to push myself forward. My mind is on what could be a trip to the States sooner than I expected, to finish family business, to disperse my parents' belongings, gathered over thirty-five years of marriage and two lives cut short. This will most likely be my last trip home for a long, long time. Five trips in less than three years is straining our wallets and interrupts my life so much that it's no wonder I can't settle myself here - I've barely spent six months at a stretch in France.

But I'm not gone yet - I have to focus on here and now. I have too much to do to lose myself in daydreaming of what I'll do when I'm there. I need to be here. The wind howls again and brings me back. I've got to go - there's too much to do today.

books, and the women who love them

If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you may have noticed that I have a certain passion for books. Actually, it's more to the point that I love reading, as I'll read just about anything. In a fit of desperation a couple of years ago, I even grabbed Steph's Petit Larousse (which is about as "petit" as an elephant) and started flipping through its illustrated pages. This is an obsession that started when I was still in Kindergarten, when Mom would take my sister and I on weekly trips to the library, where I could borrow as many books as I could carry and then read them so fast I was ready to go back in the middle of the week. It's not just the act of reading, but the ability to step into another world. Even during the worst times in my life, I had my escape, neatly bound between two covers and small enough to throw in my bag.

As I'm sure you can imagine, English books are hard to come by here in the Middle of Nowhere, France. There are two shops in Troyes that feature a small selection of English books, which are excellent if I've been too long without a book, but if I'm looking for something in particular it means going to the internet, and that can get a bit expensive. Lucky for me, my friend Doc suffers from the same obsession and from time to time we have the occasion to borrow from each other's personal libraries.

So it came to pass that on New Year's Day, I was allowed in Doc's hallowed library to choose a couple of books to borrow. Lo and behold, she deigned to lend me the motherlode - not only the Chronicles of Narnia but the Dark Tower series as well!

I hadn't read the Chronic(what?!)cles of Narnia* since I was probably ten years old, so revisiting them after twenty (gah!) so many years has been a revelation. I've fallen in love all over again and I'm going to have to buy my own copy so I can reread it again and again. I think I've even come across what may be my favorite opening sentence for a book ever:

"There once was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it."
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C.S. Lewis.

Isn't it wonderful?

Anyway, I've just started the Dark Tower series. I have a vague recollection of starting this series way back when, but I sort of went off Stephen King quite a long time ago. However, everyone raves about this series so much that I'm willing to give him a second chance.

And then, wouldn't you know it, two days later the postman dropped a notice in our mailbox - the two boxes of books I'd shipped to myself from North Carolina had arrived. Next up after the Dark Tower: rereading the Outlander series before buying the latest in the series.

Looks like I'm going to be knee-deep in books, both borrowed and my own, equally treasured, for a long while. That's just how I like it.


*I'd planned to make a goofy reference/link to SNL's "Lazy Sunday" but the Powers That Be have yanked it from You Tube. *sigh* Well, I know you're hip so I know you got the joke. *wink*

more addictive than crack

Like many folks, I dismissed Myspace as a teenage fantasy-land and barely gave it a second thought. Then, not too long ago, I was googling names of friends I knew long ago (like you do) and landed on a high school friend's Myspace page. Then I looked around and saw that I found a few others hanging out there.

Well, I did the only thing I could do - create my own page. And here it is. Today I've lost the whole morning to looking at friends' pages - this crap is more addictive than crack! I've got to tear myself away from the computer before I get sucked in again.

If you've been sucked in too, send me an add, but you may want to drop me a line as well, as I'm in the habit of turning down requests of people I don't know (I'm wacky like that).

Right, I've got to step away from the keyboard... slowly... slowly...

Americana in France

retro glassware
Originally uploaded by vivi en france.

For the second year in a row, I received an American-themed gift for Christmas from my in-laws. Last year I got an apron with the stars and stripes on it, not in bright red, white and blue but in what I used to call "country colors," more maroon than red, for example. I thought it was hilarious and instead of using it, it hangs on a peg as decoration.

This year I got this pitcher and glass set with amusing retro American images. I absolutely love it - I've been longing for a pitcher and glass set and I've been wanting to get into the habit of having fresh beverages in the summer. I guess the need of having a fresh pitcher of lemonade or ice tea in the fridge is the Southerner in me making itself known! The fact that they have kitchy Americana images on them only make them that much more awesome.

Since we're sorely lacking in storage space, I decided the best thing to do is to display them until I get the urge to use them. This means I had to find the perfect platter to display them on (I may dislike clothes shopping for myself but everything else is fair game).

Believe it or not, it seems retro Americana is making a name for itself in France - one prominent supermarché has a collection of trays, bowls, plates and more featuring Kellogg's Corn Flakes and Rice Crispies. The Rice Crispies girl was so cute I just had to snap her up. (By the way, you can click on the picture to go see close ups of all the glasses and other recent photos I've added to my flickr feed!)

The best part of all this is that these are things I never would have bought for myself - I never felt like I had to surround myself with American things, since it's not things that make me homesick but people - but they really make me smile and I think it's nice that my in-laws try to give me a little piece of "home."

Either that or they're subtly hinting I should go back. Hm.

One final note - as I was checking out at the grocery, the cashier, who was about my age and actually smiled at me when I arrived at her empty lane, struck up a conversation with me. This may sound normal but this never happens. I'm way too shy (in France, anyway) to strike up a conversation usually, but as the cashier rang up the the Rice Crispies girl, she commented that there was a whole collection with these Kellogg's images, if I was interested. I told her that I'm American and I thought the whole collection was very cute and I was surprised to see them here. Then we made small talk until the transaction was finished. It was so nice to have a normal conversation that I nearly skipped out of the grocery store.

oh joy - it's the soldes

Yep, it's that time of year when all the stores in France have clearance sales that last a month and everyone goes freakin' nuts. This happens twice a year, once in January and again in August, and serves to make room for the next season's apparel.

Troyes is pretty well known in northern France for having a couple of outlet shopping centers and for good reason - they have some pretty well-known names doing business here and they offer their goods at well below retail cost.

It just so happens that I have been needing a new pair of jeans and I've put off the odious task of shopping for them for the last couple of months knowing that deep discount time was at hand. Since Les Soldes started Wednesday - a day when most kids are out of school and I'm sure chaos reigned supreme - I decided to take a chance on Thursday. Oh, but I should have known better. I arrived at the outlet center on my way into Troyes at 11:30, hoping folks would be getting a bit peckish by then, and all I found was a parking lot full of people who had all lost their minds. I actually saw two cars pointed at the same parking space and it looked like it was about to come to blows. I did one full turn of the parking lot and got the hell out of there. Happily, it will be much calmer in a couple of weeks, and while the best items will be gone, I'll be happy to pick over the remains at very deeply discounted prices.

Lucky for me, I had a backup plan, and drove around to the other side of town to a store that stocks fluffy-sized clothing. They also had racks after racks of clothes on sale, but after flicking through them and finding all the sizes in the wrong places, I gave up any hope of finding anything interesting and went on to the new collection, where after flicking through more disordered clothes, I finally found a couple pairs of jeans in my size. I quickly chose the most comfortable/least trendy (and I've got to commit to these jeans for a while) pair and ran outside while my sanity was still intact.

You may have noticed that I don't exactly find shopping to be a pleasurable pastime. This is partly my fault, as being a bit fluffier than I ought to be keeps me from wearing a lot of the clothes I'd like to wear. A lot of the problem is my short stature, and I haven't yet found anything like "petite" sizes here (which is awfully ironic if you ask me, but I digress), so clothes tend to hang on me like so many tents. While many stores offer a tailoring service, when you're as short as me they'd end up cutting away a whole other garment, so I can't see the point in it. Anyway, shopping in general is a pretty disheartening task but one must clothe oneself so I put myself through the paces from time to time.

The rest of the day went off alright. I even found a nice pair of shoes and they were half off to boot! Can you believe I hadn't bought shoes in a whole year? Considering Dad used to call me Imelda, that's showing quite a bit of restraint, if you ask me.

state of the union

Don't worry, the state of marriage is fine, if that's what you were wondering. No, I'm referring to one of the requirements of the American president which has been in place since the Constitution was written - he must appear before Congress every January to deliver a speech on the state of the Union. I don't do resolutions at the beginning of the year - I'm sure I did once, but I never kept them - but there is something about turning the page to a new year that makes one reflect on the past year and look towards the new one. We rarely get "do overs" in this life, but we do sometimes get a fresh start, and for me January is one of those times to close one chapter and open a new one.

I've got to come clean with you. Everyone blogs for different reasons and goodness knows there are others who write more eloquently of living in a foreign country and as much as I like to think it is, this blog is not a real journal in the truest sense. It is heavily filtered and the censoring committee (i.e. me) is particularly strict. While this adventure I've been living for the past two years and some change has been phenomenal and I wouldn't change it, the truth is that this past year and most of the year before it have been an utter nightmare. I spent my entire life, excepting the four years I was at college, not more than an hour away from my parents and the minute I stepped one foot out of the country they proceeded to fall ill and die, one right after the other. I tell you without exaggeration that not one day has passed since my mother fell ill that I haven't thought about them. Some days it's just a fond memory of something one of them said or a joke we shared. Other days I am wracked with guilt that I wasn't there for either of them when they needed most. Most of the time I just wish I could hear their voices just one more time.

Writing about these things in detail would only serve to torture me and try your patience. Can you imagine if I did? Today Vivi's mourning: I can't remember a minuscule detail about our family history and I can't call Mom; she would know without hesitation or better yet Watching my father-in-law holding my baby niece in his arms and knowing my father will never do the same with his own grandchildren is more than I can bear. And yet these last two months since my father died have been like walking through a fog. I've lost all sense of direction and focus; I can hardly remember three tasks I set out to do in the morning.

The best way I can describe it is like riding on a boat at sea. Sometimes the seas get a little rough and it's all I can do to hang on and ride it out. Sometimes the sea is too calm and I'm as listless as a sailboat without wind. Sometimes the sun is shining I've got the wind at my back and it's full speed ahead. They say that time heals all wounds and I'm inclined to believe them. Little by little, I'm experiencing more sunny days, though the seas do get a bit choppy now and then.

Maybe you can see why I'm so anxious to turn the page and start a new chapter. My heart is still broken but it's time to look ahead. I can't help but feel like good things are coming. I don't know what they are yet, but I'm on the watch for them. It could be a new address, or maybe I'll stop looking for work and start making my own, or, "God willin' and the creek don't rise," a new addition to our family. I'm open to it all. Here, at the beginning of a chapter, at the top of a fresh page, all things seem possible.

back to our regularly scheduled program

Here it is, Monday morning. Up since 8:30, Steph's back at work, the bathroom is clean, clothes are in the washer and I've got a few minutes before I have to make a boulangerie run and start lunch. Oh, it was hard, friends, to move our lazy bodies this morning.

Meanwhile, quite a lot of things happened last week. First off, I forgot to mention that I left Doc's house with more than your usual holiday gifts of boxes of chocolate. She's found cheddar (yes! real cheddar!) at a local shop and graciously gave me a small block to bring home, which became taco topping the very next day. She also gave me a pack of Rolos which were one of my favorite candies when I was a kid. Those were gobbled up pretty quick, too. Thanks again, Doc!

Friday we went to Troyes to pick up my third carte de sejour, or residence card. We're pretty lucky that, living in a relatively small town (compared to many of my transplant friends in Paris or other big cities), our wait at the Préfecture is pretty short, usually about fifteen minutes. However, it seems like every year there's something new to drive you just a little bit crazy. This year, it was the tax stamp, or the fee for processing the card. In years past, we simply walked across the hall to pick up our stamp, but this year we learned the Préfecture doesn't offer this service anymore. So off we went to the Centre des Impôts, or the Tax Office, to pick up the sacred stamp. We parked the car, flew across the street and glided in the door fifteen minutes before they would be locked for lunch. The good news is that the Tax Office is pretty quiet when taxes aren't due (much like the lead up to April 15 in the States) and we were in and out pretty quick. After lunch with the in-laws, we went back to the Préfecture to finish the business. Something else that's changed is that this year, I got a real card! Not a sticker in my passport, but a real card! Hurray! This will hold me until September, when we will be able to apply for a ten-year card, thus leaving this messy business behind for a little while.

Otherwise, it was a quiet Christmas vacation. I finished up my research and writing on the guide for Troyes and it's resting in other hands now. I can't say my French grew leaps and bounds working on it, but it's funny that this came into my life when I'm experiencing a growth spurt in French, so it gave me an opportunity to test out my new found confidence. Don't worry, I should be plateau-ing any minute now! More importantly, it gave me something to focus on, which is something that has been frustratingly difficult for me these last couple of months. But more about that in my next post - for now it's enough to say the guide is done and I'm looking forward to my next project.

Well, my time is up, I've got to get on with the rest of my day. Actually, while I'm here - someone mentioned in my comments that my RSS feed isn't working (thanks Amy!). Is this because I haven't gone to Blogger beta? Any help will be greatly appreciated.

normal blogging will resume shortly

There are so many things I've been meaning to blog about, including our yearly visit to the Prefecture and other happenings from this week, but I'm in the last throes of finishing up the guide I've been working on and trying to get some quality time in with the hubby, and the blog has sadly fallen by the wayside. Come Monday, Steph will head back to work and I'll be trying to reestablish some normalcy around here. Thanks for your patience and for continuing to stop by. I've got some fun plans for this blog that I'm hoping to bring to fruition in the coming months (doesn't that sound exciting!) and I'd love to have y'all along.

Have a great weekend and let's meet back here on Monday, mkay?

happy new year!

We rang in the New Year in a rather quiet fashion, between the cheese course and dessert chez Doc and Marc. The four of us enjoyed, as always, the fruits of Doc's labor in the kitchen (she declared that while I am artsy-fartsy, she is cuisiney-weeny) while their two little ones were tucked into bed. We all joked that we were going to have to set the alarm for midnight so we could properly celebrate, but it wasn't long after that we all hit the hay and Steph and I nearly slept in far too late to be considered polite.

The next day was leisurely and simple, chatting with Marc's parents and playing with the kids. One of my favorite moments was this conversation, between Doc and her two-year old, whom she calls Muppet, as lunch was winding down:

Doc: Would you like some fruit?

Muppet: No.

Doc: Would you like a clementine?

Muppet: No.

Doc: Would you like some banana?

Muppet: No.

Doc: Would you like a car?

Muppet: No.

Doc: Would you like a million euros?

Muppet: ... yes.

Smart kid. Anyway, we had a great time, thanks Doc and Marc for your hospitality, as always, and we hope to return the favor soon!

Thank you, all of you who take a glance at my little outpost on the internet from time to time. I hope you all rang in the New Year in the way that gave you the most pleasure, and here's to the feeling of a fresh new start and the courage to embrace everything that comes our way this year!