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.  

What I Miss

People always ask, “What do you miss from home?”

My kids, of course. 

My parents and family and friends. 

But what things are gone from my life? 

Until recently, bacon. 

Bacon here in France is called poitrine, but it is more like Canadian bacon. It doesn’t crisp up. 

British friends have given me streaky bacon, but again, it’s more ham like than bacon. 

So I was overjoyed  when I found poitrine fumée (smoked) fine (thin sliced). It looked like American bacon but I couldn’t be sure. 

I took it home and threw it in the skillet one morning, along with French toast. 

As soon as I saw it cooking, I texted two American friends with pictures. So happy to share my news that I let the bacon get a bit dark. 

“Are there bones?” One American friend asked and I had to laugh. 

We have had gristle or bacon in the poitrine. 

No bones! 

What else do I miss here? 

Bagels. 

I tried my hand at making everything bagels, but I didn’t boil them as soon as I shaped them, so they rose again and didn’t hold their shape when I did boil then bake them. Still, they tasted good. 

And sometimes I wonder how I managed to move from the 21st century to a place where most people don’t have clothes dryers. 

I thought about that as I spread a white sheet over a radiator and imagined my grandmother being horrified that I’d given up the luxury of a dryer and fluffy towels, instead watching Earl hang clothes on the line on sunny days or drape them over river the drying rack. 

It has been 10 months since I was in the States. 

I might find bagels and bacon and even a clothes dryer, but more importantly, I’m about to spend a bit of time with two of my children. 

They’re awaiting us in Dublin right now as Earl and I fly direct from Barcelona. 

Who cares about bacon and bagels? 

Wedding Joy

I sat between my mom and my husband, holding hands with both of them as Grace and Jack exchanged vows Saturday evening.

This picture is from the hotel where they prepared

The place was filled with people who love and support both of them, the emotion bubbled over as both of them wiped away tears, pledging themselves to their marriage and each other.

A friend snapped this picture during the ceremony. That's me and Earl in the foreground,
apparently the only evidence the two of us were at the wedding together because I haven't found another picture.

Things weren't perfect. Some people sitting in the back couldn't hear well. I had forgotten the corsages for myself and my mom, along with the boutonnieres for Earl and my dad back in the hotel room. The book arch which was supposed to rise above the happy couple's heads, continuing the book theme of the wedding, did not rise to the occasion and instead was draped in a semi circle on the floor.
But no one fretted about any of those things as Grace and Jack had their two right hands joined together in a hand-fasting ceremony that combined the tartans of both historical families.

We started the day at a downtown hotel where the bridesmaids gathered to get ready. Lots of coffee, some mimosas, one prepared bridesmaid brought sandwiches from subway.

My ever-prepared friend Deb sent a steamer with me to the hotel. Jess, one of the bridesmaids, steamed everyone's dress

A stylist arrived to do hair and makeup for the bridesmaids, and me, but the bride and bridesmaid decided to do hair for the flower girls when they arrived.

Two flower girls getting their hair done by the bride and bridesmaids

My favorite picture of Regan as she realized no one was going
to give her "cat's eye" makeup for the wedding.

We ran out of time at the end and hurried to get everyone ready for pictures while the limo waited impatiently.

Grace getting dressed by the bridesmaids

Earl arrived at the hotel for some pictures as he saw Grace in her wedding gown for the first time.
The limo took all the girls to the venue while Earl and I frantically drove separate vehicles so we could return the minivan Mom and Dad had loaned us for the past month.
Safely inside, I wanted to stop and talk to everyone but had to scurry to finish the tasks Grace had left me with. Two wreaths needed to be placed on tables to finish the centerpieces. And the decorative arch needed to be moved in front of the book balustrade which rested on the floor since it couldn't rise to become an arch.

The book arch still served its purpose on the floor. Each table at the reception had an author theme.

Spencer escorted me in while Tucker did videography. The ceremony was beautiful as they shared their heartfelt sentiment about their love story. 

Pictures followed, then a dance between Grace and Jack, 

I love this picture of the two flower girls and the ring bearer watching the first dance. 

Next came a dance between Grace and Earl, to the theme of the Godfather, which started slow then sped up a bit to a swing dance. 

We surprised Grace with a Ben Folds song called Gracie about watching his daughter grow up. 

Jack and his mom danced next to a song from Into the Woods.
They cut the cake and then dinner followed, with so many wonderful people to greet and so many fabulous songs to dance to.
I chose the DJ after hearing him at our friend Deb's daughter's wedding. I can highly recommend Mark Dantzer if you're getting married in the Columbus area. He kept the dance floor hopping right through the last song "Shut up and Dance With Me."
I didn't get to talk to everyone nearly enough, but I felt the love, and I know Grace did too. Whether you were there or not, the support lifted us.
I'll end with some pictures.
Thanks to everyone for going on this journey with me.

Grace and Tucker

Spence and Tucker with rabbit ears

Grace with some far away cousins. So good to have them all together

Spencer and Kaitlin

Earl and I were there too. 

Grace and Jack with my mom and dad

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. 

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.

In Memoriam -- Uncle Junior

When I wrote The Summer of France, I included the character Uncle Martin. Uncle Martin came from a family of nine children in Kentucky and volunteered to fight in World War II. He fought in Italy, was wounded and ended up in France where he fell in love with a Frenchwoman and never returned to live in the U.S.
Uncle Martin's character was loosely based on all of my uncles, but mostly on Uncle Junior.
That's what we called him because my mother always called him Junior. His wife called him Luther because that was his name -- Luther John Phillips.
Junior was the oldest boy in a family of nine. He had two older sisters, three younger brothers and three younger sisters. My mother grew up the baby in that family.
Uncle Junior was drafted into the army and  he did serve in Italy in World War II. Somewhere, I have a videotape of him sharing his war experience. He was wounded four times but came home in one piece with a Purple Heart. As we talked about his experience, he recalled that he warned his younger brothers not to wait to be drafted. Instead, he urged them to sign up for the military. Clarence, the next oldest brother, signed up for the Navy so he could avoid the ground war that Uncle Junior faced.

Uncle Junior is next to my mother in the middle. This picture
was taken at the funeral of my most recent uncle who passed.
These are the remaining siblings. 

His two  younger brothers weren't old enough to fight in World War II, but they both served later.
Uncle Junior died at age 94 on Saturday morning. He had been moved to hospice care about 24 hours before.
His death makes me sad for my mother, who loved hearing from her big brother.
It makes me sad for my aunt, who had been married to him for 71 years. 71 years? Can you imagine how empty that must feel after so long together?
And it makes me sad for all of us nieces and nephews who enjoyed hearing his musings, even if we only saw him a few times each year.
Uncle Junior didn't have the same adventures that Uncle Martin did in The Summer of France, but he  had a rich life that took him back home to Ohio and allowed him to volunteer in the Masonic Order and the Shriners, along with telling his war stories.

Dreaming of France -- Holidays

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

Today is Mother's Day in the United States, and our plan is to move to France next year the week after Mother's Day.

Here is my mother and her four children. I'm the girl on the right, without the teased hair!

Mother's Day is a deadline of sorts for us since we chose the week after Mother's Day to leave  next year. That means that from now until we move, I will be filled with melancholy about the last time we... whatever it is. Celebrate Father's Day. Celebrate Fourth of July. Labor Day. Birthdays. Thanksgiving. Christmas.

I'm so thrilled at the plan to move to France, but I, of course, am nervous about moving so far away from my children and my parents.

Here I am in La Rochelle, France with my three children, along with a friend's teenager. She came along to show us around.
My good times in France with the kids should encourage me that we'll have more good times to come.  This was 1998. 

So next year, on Mother's Day, I plan to convince my mother to come to Ohio so we can celebrate together. Then, I have already told my husband that we must return to the United States for my mother's 80th birthday in November 2017. So I know we'll be back here for that and Thanksgiving together. Maybe we can slowly wean ourselves from American holidays.

Here we are in Paris having a meal with our family friend, Marguerite.
I really hope that our children will come visit us in France and we can celebrate holidays with them.

Truthfully, the French have so many holidays that I really shouldn't miss the American ones.

Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. I really appreciate your participation and I hope you'll leave a comment plus visit each other's blogs.

Catching Up With My Family

Now that everyone has heard enough about my husband (see previous 12 posts), its time to reassess what is going on with my family.

The holidays have luckily stretched out for us with college not starting again until tomorrow for Spencer. He'll head out into the snow to his university an hour and a half away. I've firmly told him that I want him to leave in time to drive in the daytime. The road is a nice 4-lane highway for most of the way, but once he gets to Athens, the hills and dips in the road might make things treacherous.
I'm trying not to get too excited, but Spence met a girl his first week home at an ugly Christmas sweater party and they've been dating since. She's his age and lives not too far away. She does go to another college, but we'll see how they balance this once they're both back at school. Generally, he dates a lot of different girls, but this one seems different. I've long suspected that a steady relationship would be good for him, so we'll see.
As for Tucker, my 19-year-old has once again decided not to go back to his college. Instead, he'll stay home and take classes at the nearby community college. He think he has a major he's interested in -- sports videography. So he's taking classes in videography with a sports management degree. I hope he stays excited about it. He could have continued at Ohio University with a degree in journalism, but I was paying $4000 for three classes, along with $2000 per semester for his apartment. I still have to pay for his apartment even though he isn't living there, but the cost for classes, 5 classes, will be less than $2000. Plus, he is already back working at his previous job as a delivery driver for Jimmy Johns. He's working five or six days a week.
The drawback of course is that 19-year-olds generally aren't that pleasant to live with. Hopefully, we'll all be busy enough that we don't trip over each other. And his long-time girlfriend, he's been dating her for a year and a half, which is nearly a 10 of his life, lives here in Columbus and has her own apartment. That should help too.
Grace continues to enjoy her job and has health benefits now, along with a free gym membership, paid vacation. She's thrilled about that. She's rehearsing for a show now How to Succeed in Business Without Even Trying, where she's in the ensemble, but it's a producer with good connections so she's trying to cement ties with him so he can help her find jobs in the future. She was asked to audition for a paid show, and she tries out tonight. She also sent in her resume for an independent movie that is shooting in Columbus and got asked to audition for that -- a female serial killer.
The more engaged my children are with their lives, they happier they seem, so I'm all for busy schedules as they spread their wings. She's also been dating one guy for nearly half a year. The drama in my house reduces greatly when everyone has a steady boyfriend or girlfriend.
The kitten which Earl rescued in November has finally gone to a new home. Tucker's girlfriend took him in. The other cats are starting to trust that the kitten is gone. They slowly start to sleep in the living room or bedrooms again rather than cowering in the basement.
The kitten, who is now called Thomas, had to visit on Friday. His apartment was being sprayed for bugs. The kitten remembered everything about living here, and, unfortunately, the cats remembered the kitten. Our house was full of hisses that day until he left.


I'm teaching five classes this semester, but one of the colleges where I teach doesn't begin until next week, so I still have more down time. Yay! Another of the colleges where I teach started last week, so I'm easing into my new schedule. I've been in a down period as far as writing goes, but I'm planning to buckle down this week and get Paris Runaway revised.
As for me and Earl, remember that things aren't perfect, but we enjoy spending time together and we have a countdown clock for our move to France: One year, 131 days and the hours count down.

Saturday Snapshot -- Mouth Full of Chocolate

Join West Metro Mommy for this weekly meme of photos people have taken and share on their blogs.
We had a fairly laid back Thanksgiving, but at one point in the afternoon, 3-year-old Regan asked whether I'd come play with her. Of course, I did and she set up an elaborate tea party.
A piece of cake and a piece of Buckeye candy were on Regan's dessert plate. Suddenly, I looked down and the entire Buckeye was gone.
"Did you put that entire thing in your mouth?" I asked Regan. She nodded, but her full cheeks and over-wide eyes told me the answer before she did.

Tucker also got to meet his new cousin Benjamin and he wanted a selfie. So I held up  Benjamin for Tucker to take a selfie with him.

We also got a family snapshot while all of us were in the same place.

Hope you  had a lovely holiday, if your an American, and that everyone else had peaceful weeks.