Update

The problem with not blogging for so long, is that there is way too much to blog about so then it's discouraging and I'll never be able to catch up! 

But, after Sillygirl asked in the comments a few times, I realized that there are some loyal readers who might worry what has happened to me, so I thought I could at least share some pictures with you.

First, we are safely back in France having dodged Covid around the world, well at least in the U.S., Ireland and France, so far. 

We returned a week ago and our friends have been so welcoming and supportive, like they missed us. I know we missed them. 

My first hike back in France, this horse posed with the sunrise between the mountains. 

Our trip to the States, three months long, was too much, but we enjoyed every minute we got to spend with our sons and my parents, plus time with our siblings and nieces and nephews. Then Covid got crazy and we just hunkered down over the holidays, only seeing Tucker, who had Covid the week before we got there, and Spencer and his girlfriend. Earl's sister and her kids and grandkids all had Covid over the holidays, canceling our plans to gather. We ended up skipping out on our flight from Columbus to Florida and renting a car instead to avoid Omicron, which seemed to infect everyone, even those of us triple vaxxed. We couldn't risk taking Covid back to my parents as Dad was preparing to have his pacemaker replaced (all went well). Also, we knew if we tested positive, we wouldn't be able to board the plane back home. After three months  of staying with other people, we were ready to get home. 
But, as always, there's the terrible pull in the pit of my stomach as I say goodbye to my sons or to my parents. Leaving our sons and my parents behind is the hardest part of living in France. When I say that, I hear the scene from Love Actually when Colin Forth tells his Portuguese housekeeper and love interest that dropping her off is the worst part of his day. I find myself reminiscing about the boys' childhoods, the quick patter of their feet on the wooden floors before diving onto our bed in the morning. I see their beautiful chubby cheeks and innocent eyes. 

They're both planning trips to visit us this year with significant others, so fingers crossed that it actually happens. 

Mom and Dad both had birthdays while we visited. They're doing great and staying healthy while avoiding Covid. It's tricky these days. Luckily, their favorite thing, golf, is outdoors. 

We left Florida on a Sunday. Our flights were scheduled Tampa, New York then Dublin. We were spending a few days with Grace and Jack since they hadn't gotten home for Christmas. Jack is still waiting on his visa from the Irish government and doesn't want to leave the country in case there's difficulty returning. Grace is working on her PhD in Archeology, focusing on cultural heritage, especially our area of France. How convenient!

Our Tampa to New York flight got delayed, which meant we wouldn't make our New York to Dublin flight. My knee-jerk reaction was to get to the airport as quickly as possible so we could take an alternative flight. I stayed online with Delta the entire hour and a half drive to the airport and we only got our new flights resolved as we were leaving our rental car. At the airport by 1:30, our flight wouldn't leave til 8:30. Now we were flying Tampa, Atlanta, Paris, Dublin. I know! I couldn't believe I couldn't leave any of our five suitcases in France while we were there. 

But we made it to Dublin the next day and quickly embraced Grace. We enjoyed four nights with her and Jack, making up for our missed Christmas together. 

Daughter/dad hugs. Of course we went for a walk on the beach in Dublin.
We're so lucky to get sun when we're there. 

The countryside is stunning in Ireland, even in January. 

This climb in Bray was a good workout and had beautiful views. 

On Friday we flew back to France and our friend Derrick met us at the airport in Toulouse. It's two hours from home, but flights to the closer airport had been cancelled. 

We arrived home just in time to make it to our visa appointment. 

Since we moved to France in 2018, we have had to renew our visa every year. This is our 5th year, which means next year, we can apply for a 10-year visa or carte de séjour as they're called in France. 

After receiving our visa, we celebrated by walking about La Cité in Carcassonne. As stunning as ever.

The sky and the outer walls of the chateau

And so we're back. We've been enjoying time with friends, drinking inexpensive wine and stocking up on scrumptious pastries, along with walks and runs in the countryside. It's not a bad life.

Joys and Sorrows

 This week has been full of joys and sorrows. This week alone could mimic a lifetime of ups and downs. 

On Wednesday, we learned that Earl's older brother, Art, had died. We learned  less than a week before that he was sick but they weren't sure what was going on. "You may want to come home," his wife Shelley texted Earl. Then he was out of the hospital. Then back in. Tuesday night they texted. They had a diagnosis - histoplasmosis, a fungal disease that comes from bird or bat droppings. At least they could treat him. 

A family photo from 2006, Art giving his daughter Amy rabbit ears. 

The next morning, we got the call that he had died in the hospital that night. The fungus takes a toll on the heart and his had been weakened by a heart attack in his 40s. We were shocked to lose him and felt helpless, unable to hug his wife or daughter or son. 

At Grace's wedding. Art is in the pink shirt. 

Since I've known him, Art has been a fairly quiet, no-nonsense guy. He says it like it is. He had a lifelong love of Harley Davidson motorcycles and a core group of friends in the U.S. and Canada, which is where he met his wife. Earl has long admired his stoic brother for standing up for his principals. Art worked as an electrician and always did the job right, helping out friends and family when we needed it. He raised two amazing kids who both have advanced degrees. We're stunned that he's gone.

Another sorrow, that pales in comparison, is the loss of our cat Louis. We last saw him Sunday morning. I was preparing to teach so I let him out the balcony doors. He does a kind of parcours to jump from the wall to the post, back to a lower wall and onto the sidewalk. He gets wet cat food every morning and evening, and never misses a meal, so I expected he would be in the garden whenever Earl ventured down and opened the door. Louis's an outdoor cat, but continues to spend a lot of time indoors, coming and going at will. 

Louis came home with scratches on his nose one day. 

After I finished teaching, we got ready to go to the market in Esperaza, and I asked Earl if he'd fed Louis. He said no that Louis hadn't come back. That's not like Louis, so I started to worry. He always come back for food. 

We had dinner with friends Sunday evening and after dinner we went walking around Quillan in search of Louis. We called and clucked. We showed pictures of Louis to French people who shrugged mostly. 

Louis on the perch that Earl created for him. 

I posted on Facebook in Quillan. I paid to have his picture shared on Pet Alert in our region of France. We put up posters around town. The baker's wife took down the poster in the window that warned people to wear masks and replaced it with the poster of missing Louis. 

My friend Sue checked with the vets around town and farther. 

Louis is neutered and chipped. If anyone finds him, they have our phone number. He isn't a rare breed, so I doubt anyone has stolen him. 

Everyone has been incredibly helpful, telling us they might have seen Louis here or there. We always go in search of Louis. We looked in trash cans; we walked the train tracks. We call him when walking in the mountains far from home in hopes of finding him. 

Last night, we were at a town festival when our friend Enzo said he'd seen a cat that looked just like Louis near another friend's house above town. We drove in the dark to the area and called for Louis. Earl walked up the hill; I walked down the hill. A cat came trotting around the corner toward me in the dark. His face was white with gray, just like Louis, but he was long-haired instead of short haired. He came to me and let me pet him. But he wasn't Louis. 

People say don't give up hope. They tell me stories of cats that disappeared and came back a week later, a month later. 

It seems silly to be so sad about a cat, but when it rains, I picture him somewhere outside afraid, maybe hurt, unable to come home. Because I'm sure if he could come home, he would. 

Come home, Louis! 

But this week has been full of joy as well. On Tuesday, we picked up Tucker and his friend Nathan at the Perpignan train station. 

Earl, Tucker and Nathan all wore white shirts on Tuesday. 

They've instantly become part of the Quillan social fabric, watching the semi-finals of the Euro soccer tournament, singing songs with the English and swimming in the pools of young Belgian women with vacation homes here. 

Watching the Italy-Spain game at the Glacier. 

We aren't doing a lot of sightseeing, but as long as they're happy, we're happy. 

Then yesterday Grace, Jack and three of their friends arrived, flying from Dublin to Carcassonne. We needed two cars to pick them all up, and luckily my friend Derrick volunteered to chauffeur some of them back to Quillan. It's so great to have Grace and Jack back in France. I hope it feels like home to them. 

And for us we're thrilled to get to meet some of the friends they've made in Dublin this year during the year of grad school.

Last night our friends Lou and Steve bravely invited all 9 of us to their house for dinner. We made quite a train walking up there carrying wine, more wine, hamburgers and chicken to barbecue, pasta salad and cake. When you bring 9 people for dinner, you have to divide and conquer. 

Our crew without Steve and Lou

After a delicious dinner and much wine, we played a game called Hammerschlagen, which has become a tradition at Steve and Lou's house. It has to do with hitting a nail with one blow each turn and the first person plus the last person to drive their nails into the tree stump lose. It's definitely a dangerous game.

Nathan, in a sweatshirt borrowed from our friend Kris, takes aim. 

Grace takes aim as Tucker watches. 

After dinner, we wandered down to the town square for some music. We didn't stay long because Grace and her friends were tired from getting to the airport at 4 a.m., and then our friend Enzo said he might have seen Louis so we set off to search for him. 

Somehow, we ended up with a picture on the town Facebook page anyway. 

And Saturday, the Tour de France is ending in Quillan. We're all excited to see the caravan, the riders and enjoy the festivities. 

My heart is filled with joy to have two of my kids in town, just getting to hang out with them. But I'm sad for Earl and Art's wife Shelley and his two kids. And, of course, we're sad not to have Louis here to share in the family time.  

She Made Me a Mom

 Twenty-nine years ago today, I didn't know what being a mother was like. 

But one day changed all that, as Earl and I drove an hour in the dark early morning to the hospital, and Grace was born at 12:30 p.m. Our little bundle of joy was a whopping 8 pounds, 8 ounces (maybe I shouldn't have married a giant) and she turned us into parents.

She's a great first child, holding us to our promises, living up to our dreams. It's been a joy to watch her grow up and fly away. 

Even if growing up meant that she needed to step away and have a photoshoot with a wolf, we knew she had a lot of strength and good decision-making skills. 

Raising Grace has been a joy from the moment that we overdressed her in a onesie on that sweltering January day in Florida, to watching her leave us behind in France while she moved to Dublin. 

Happy birthday, my sweet girl. 

I hope 29 is another magical year for you. 

Sightings in the Wild

One of my friends from Ohio delights me with her messages.
When she sees my boys out on the street or at a soccer game, she'll take a picture and send it to me.
The most recent one was Tucker on a bike ride. He stopped for a photo and to greet Leah.

Keeping good social distancing

Of course, I text with my sons throughout each week and we Facetime every few weeks, but there's something thrilling about getting a glimpse of their lives while I'm so far away.
Spencer and his girlfriend Kaitlin have moved in together. Leah documented them on a walk with their Starbucks cups.

Spotted on a walk

Sometimes she sees our old house and takes a picture of it. 

It's nice to know that you're thinking of us Leah! And we do miss our friends and family in Grandview Heights. 

Before Coronavirus, Leah was likely to run into Tucker at a Columbus Crew game.

Digging those sunglasses, Leah. 

On a chillier day with Tucker on the right side of the picture and his friend Tyler

So if you see my boys in the "wilds" of Columbus, snap a picture and send it. Or, starting next month, if you spot Grace and Jack in the depths of Dublin, send it. 

The hardest thing about moving to France is leaving family behind, and the pictures make it a wee bit easier. 

It's Official

Today, after four years of dating, our daughter Grace and her boyfriend Jack made it official. They're engaged.

It's not official til you share it on Facebook.

We're very happy for them. Their love for each other is an inspiration. Neither of them is perfect, but it looks like they found their perfect imperfect partner. And they've weathered some tough times together.

They did a photo shoot with a wolf

They met four years ago in May when they both were in a production of Hamlet. Grace was dating another guy on and off and I was kind of rooting for him. I jokingly called Jack by the wrong name -- Josh -- for awhile, before it became obvious that they were serious.
After a year of dating and some frustration about finding time to see each other, I suggested they just move in together. They are both always involved in acting, usually in different shows, so after work, they'd rehearsal, and they rarely had time to see each other most evenings. At least if you lived together you'd know you would see each other eventually, I said.

After one of Jack's shows

They spent two summers apart while Jack was in a show that required him to live on premises about 90 minutes away from Columbus.

They have traveled together, exploring Scotland, Ireland and England. They visited Jack's family castle in Scotland -- the MacRae Clan and discovered that the castle wall says as long as a MacRae is within, a Fraser will not be without. Our family clan? The Fraser Clan. Perhaps this love story was written in history.

That look.

People always ask if a guy is someone you approve of for your daughter. My standards have always been high. There is one requirement. That he love her with unbounded love. And I think she has found that in Jack.
In fairy tales, a wedding is the end of the story, but we all know that a wedding is really the beginning of a whole new life for the two of them.

The End of the Year in the States -- 2018

My first year abroad ended with me in the States.

Florida

We flew to Florida on October 30 in time for my dad's surgery. For six months, he had been dealing with a sore on his foot that would not heal and they found infection in the bone. We feared that he might lose his foot. I couldn't imagine how depressed he must be, sitting in the house and going to doctor visits rather than playing golf four times a week. Mom seemed a bit overwhelmed too, giving him IV antibiotic treatments three times a day.

Within 24 hours of arriving home, Mom had instructed me on how to give the antibiotics. That left her schedule a bit more free. Then Dad had surgery to open arteries in his lower leg to help improve the blood flow. We hoped the surgery would lead to the wound healing.
After a week in Florida, we drove up to Ohio to see the kids and some friends.

 We helped Spencer choose a used car to replace the one that was totaled in the accident. With a car, he could get a job with more consistent pay rather than working on lawns with his roommate. After about 10 days of juggling paperwork in Ohio, we returned to Florida.
Returning didn't seem like a big culture shock. It felt like I'd never left, except that my favorite drink at Starbucks was too sweet now.
The kids were thrilled to see us, but they quickly returned to their own lives.
So we came back to Florida to keep Dad company as he continued to heal. We puttered around like real retirees for about a month, getting ready for Christmas, and the week before Christmas, Dad played about 15 holes of golf with Earl. He was nearly healed.
We lucked into a housesit in Columbus from December 20 to January 7, so we had our own place while we visited Columbus. Spencer and Tucker came to spend the night on Christmas Eve, and we gathered for  a New Year's meal and to watch the Ohio State bowl game. I loved being together again.
But I realized that the kids might wish I was there so they could drop by whenever they wanted, but they weren't going to change their lives and their schedules to fit me in. They all had their own interests and busy schedules.
So on January 6, we had a family meal together, celebrating Grace's birthday 3 weeks early, and I kissed them all goodbye.

One family photo

Celebrating Grace's birthday with Tucker, Spencer and her boyfriend Jack. 

Ouch. That hurts every time.
I knew I would see Tucker again because he flew down to Florida for a long weekend with my parents. And he was here on Monday, less than a week ago, when the doctor declared my dad cleared from treatment. His foot was healed.
We toasted with champagne.
And Tucker played two rounds of golf with Dad that weekend.

Dad back on the golf course

Tucker on the golf course

Monday evening, we drove Tucker to the airport. It felt like my entire body was slouching, every organ joining in with a downward motion as I realized that I was leaving my youngest, and all of them, behind again.
I worried that I might have already broken our relationship by selling their childhood home and moving to France.
Our goodbye at the airport was punctuated by kisses and hugs, and one more hug and a last, desperate look into his eyes so that I could convey how much he means, whether I'm there or not, and we drove back to Mom and Dad's as I felt my organs twisted tighter and tighter like a wet towel being rung out.

One last photo before he returned to Ohio. Me, crying on the inside

Being in France, being away, I'm caught up in the adventure of it all. The leaving part though, that's hard -- every time.
And tomorrow, we say goodbye to Mom and Dad as we drive to the Orlando airport to fly to Paris. But we are so happy that we were here, for the longest stay that I've had since I moved away from home after college.
And Dad is well. They are both healthy.
Sure, we'll be far away, but they know that we can get on a plane and be here in just a little over the amount of time it used to take to drive from Ohio to Florida.
And somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I'll shrug off the sadness of leaving people behind and start looking toward the sunrise as we arrive in France.

Tehcnically, a sunset, but you get the idea. 

Back in the US

First, let me say that all went well with my father's surgery and he is recovering.
We went to Florida first, to be with my dad, and three days after his surgery, we drove up to Ohio to spend time with our kids and untangle paperwork that winds itself around 20-something year-olds throughout the year.
The night before we left for Ohio, I kissed my dad goodnight, knowing we would leave in the dark of the morning while everyone else was still asleep, and he said, "It means the world to me that you were here for my procedure."
So I guess that's that. Sometimes just being here is enough.
And the good news came yesterday that he can be finished with his IV antibiotic treatment because the infection in his foot is gone. It won't be long now before Dad is floating in the pool -- allowed to get his foot wet -- or on the golf course across the street putting yellow balls into that little cup.

After we got home from France, the first thing I wanted to do is a juice cleanse. I'd really been indulging in delicious and decadent French foods for nearly 10 months, and the light in my parents' guest bathroom made me look a bit yellow, like maybe my liver was going, but Earl assures me it is just the light.
But before I juiced, I wanted to revisit, two things that I missed in the States -- my Starbucks mocha and an everything bagel with cream cheese. Luckily, we combined these two by sitting outside at Starbucks with a Panera nearby.
The white mocha was so sickeningly sweet that I nearly couldn't drink it. The everything bagel was just okay. And I think that's the way things happen. You imagine them, even crave them, and once you take that first bite, that first sip, well the dream of it was so much better than the actuality.

And I think the same may be true for how much our kids longed to have us home.

Not our kids -- but Earl's nieces kids playing in the leave. Always happy to visit with them

How long does it take for adult children to have enough of their parents after they've been out of the country for a year? About five days seems to have done it.
Unfortunately, for them, we're still here eight days later, trying to get a few more pieces of paperwork untangled.

A family dinner to celebrate our return and Spencer's 25th birthday.
That's Grace's boyfriend Jack on the right, the rest are ours

The first few days after we arrived in Ohio, we were the hottest ticket in town. We passed out French chocolate. We took them to dinner. We shared stories. We met them for lunch as they raced over from work.
By Friday night, we had a family game night and pizza. How did we have a game night when we have no home, you may ask? Through the kindness of our very generous friends Deb and Greg who have taken us in to their home, letting us treat it as our own as the kids come and go.
That night, I had to teach at 8 p.m., but I imagined the games and the conversation would continue when I went upstairs to teach. We made it to about 7:45 before everyone wandered off to their own plans.
Tucker headed to New York for the weekend to watch the Columbus Crew SC in a playoff soccer game. 

Tucker and friends at an earlier soccer game -- picture thanks to my friend Leah who snaps pictures of the kids whenever she sees them around town and then sends them to me

Grace was managing a play that pitted various Shakespearean characters in fights and had she began working on it at 9 a.m. Saturday and it lasted until the play ended that night. Spencer hung out with us until after the OSU football game, about 4 p.m.

I cleared my schedule on Sunday, after a morning walk with friends, so I could spend the day with Grace. She had an audition, and the day turned into 6:30 p.m. when she and Jack joined us for soup and some rounds of euchre. Our place in the pecking order had fallen into natural order.

A cold, beautiful morning for a walk around Antrim Lake

On Monday, we didn't even try to get together with them, and everyone seemed ready to move on with their regular lives. I walked with Sheila, one of the things I've really missed doing since we went away. We seem to accomplish so much therapy when we walk and sip coffee.
Tucker kept in touch as he drove home from New York, and Grace talked about Christmas plans by text, but really, they're over us.
And it's nice to know that as much as they wish we were here, they really only need us as a safety net, when they want to see us. Some of my guilt about leaving them is relieved.
We'll drive back to Florida in the next couple of days and spend more time with my parents. We'll see the kids again for Christmas, and I'll leave my mixed feelings behind when we fly back to France in January.
They're grown ups. It's nice to have parents around, but they don't need us -- most of the time.

A Pause

During this busy holiday weekend, just a pause to tell you that things are better. 

If Spencer and his girlfriend start their morning with Echinacea tea, I feel like everything will eventually fall into place. 

Had a lovely, if loud,  Thanksgiving with my family. My parents from Florida, my brother from Texas, and my nephew from Virginia with his 4 children, including these two little guys. 

Now you see why it was loud. Plus their sisters, 3-year-old Lydia and 2-year-old Lorelei. 

Today, back to my brother’s to celebrate my mom’s 80th birthday.

A Blog Post

I pondered whether to write a funny or emotional post today. I'm still not sure which I'm writing yet.
But I will tell you that when I got up this morning, I saw the cat on my laptop.
"Get down!" I chided him.
When I sat down at the keyboard later, I realized he had turned off my wifi connection and turned on airplane mode.
I tried to move my mouse and realized he had also turned off my keypad.
As I began grading papers, I saw that he had taken my one-page grading rubric and turned it into a 791-page document.
He's more prolific at writing than I am!
For some reason, I thought I needed to delete those 790 pages and get back to my first page. After several minutes of highlighting the pages from the end, I realized that I could just spike that document and start a new one. I'm not letting a cat outsmart me!

That was such an easy dilemma, compared to what we went through on Monday.

Tucker and two friends had driven to New York City to visit his former roommate then the four of them went camping in the Catskills. On Sunday, they drove back into the city, planning to drive home Monday.

At 7:10 a.m., I received a text -- "On our way." It's about an 8-hour drive, so he should have been home by 3 p.m. An hour later, he called. He was at an auto shop because his battery light had come on. The mechanic said he needed a new alternator.

"Get out of the city!" my husband urged. 

Meanwhile, I called the mechanic who had changed Tucker's oil and put new brakes on just the week before. He called back and said that the battery was new, but he hadn't changed the alternator on the 2002 Subaru. So it could need a new alternator. 

But he hypothesized that if Tucker drove home without lights or windshield wipers, the battery might just last. 

Tuck and his friends searched for a Firestone as they drove down the New Jersey turnpike and found out the price was higher than it had been in the city.  They stopped at an Autozone and bought a new alternator, with Tucker's friend installing it, before hitting the road again. Then they called from the Pennsylvania turnpike. They had broken down when it started to rain, and they turned the windshield wipers on. After 30 minutes on hold with AAA, a turnpike worker came along and ordered them a tow truck. 

Of course, the entire ordeal was dotted with phone calls and texts and dying cell phones -- along with attempts to check out the eclipse. 

The tow truck driver told them that Autozone had a history of selling faulty alternators, so, for $68, he towed them to Autozone, where they found out they had the wrong alternator for their car. So an even exchange, a new alternator and they headed toward home again. 

They had had to pay $22 when they were towed off the turnpike halfway. 

After they drove the remainder of the turnpike, they couldn't find the card they received from the toll booth attendant, so they had to pay the entire amount, $44. 

What an expensive lesson.

The entire day, I just thought how much easier it must have been to parent before cell phones. Then I might, or might not have gotten a phone call to say that he had broken down, but he would have had to handle it. 

I love when a series of misadventures turns out okay, and you know that it will be a story he'll tell someday about the fun time they had camping in the Catskills.  

Spreading Our Wings

I hope no one every doubts my devotion to my children, but after 24 years of mothering, I'm kind of ready for a break.

Tucker on a trip out west

We had a brief empty nest two years ago with all three kids off to college. That was the autumn that Grace got mono, and Tucker hated college so decided he was moving home after the fall semester.
We declared it Empty-Nest November in an attempt to keep the kids away for a month, but with Thanksgiving and all, we let them come home.
Since then, all or some of our three children have been living at home.
We don't mind. We enjoy them a lot of times.
This summer, with all three kids home in our small house, it has felt a little crowded.
Luckily, everyone has different work schedules so we aren't usually all home at the same time, except when we're sleeping, and even that varies. I'm sure there have been times I've climbed out of bed at 5:30 when my boys might just be going to bed.
This morning though, it feels a little roomier here at home as Tucker moved out yesterday.

Spencer going out on the town.

He moved into a duplex in the same town where we live, which makes me happy because it is safer than a lot of housing closer to campus (Ohio State University). Tucker.20,  works five days a week, takes classes, plays soccer and hangs out with his friends. I think that we are closer, more tolerant of each other when he doesn't live at home.
Our agreement is that we'll pay his rent while he's in college. He has to pay his utilities and food, along with gas for his car. And he has to pass his classes. He has had a hard time settling on a major. Currently he is aiming for Interactive Multimedia, which includes photography, videography and computer animation. I hope he enjoys it.

Grace and her boyfriend Jack in a moment
 of' adoration and cuteness

After Spencer left for work at 6:45, and Earl left for work at 8, the house felt a little less crowded.
I freely walked from the bathroom to the bedroom without clothes on, knowing that the house was a male-free zone for a few hours.
Grace asked what we were going to do with our male-free hours, but I had to work, so she's on her own, until Spencer gets home from work or she leaves for the class she is taking.
Next month, Spencer will return to college for one more semester.
Grace and her boyfriend are headed to London in September.
I love my kids, but I'm looking forward to the time this fall when we might get to be empty nesters again.
Remind me next year, if I'm whining about missing my kids that I was looking forward to being alone.