Working Woman

People generally praise me for my work ethic, but I truly consider myself a bit lazy, especially when it comes to manual labor.
When I do complete tasks of manual labor, I always expect a pat on the back. I point it out to my husband or friends for their praise.
Yesterday, by the time my husband arrived home, around 7 p.m., I was dead on my feet. I truthfully hadn't sat down except when driving my car, about 10 minutes each way to and from work, and for about 20 minutes when I ate some lunch. I even stood as I had dinner.
I teach from 8-2 and I don't sit down Even if I'm not lecturing, it's easier to see the computer monitor, easier to notice if the students need help when they are working on their assignments, if I stand the entire time. So that's a normal teaching day for me.
When I arrived home, I sat at the table for about 20 minutes reading the newspaper as I ate a muffin. Then I was determined to paint the living room as part of our preparations to sell the house.
I had already filled some spots on the wall on Sunday, so I hoped to get straight to painting on Tuesday, but I forgot about all the prep work required.
First I rolled up the area rug and moved our two couches to the middle of the room so I could get to the walls. Moving couches means the floor underneath needed to be cleaned. I vacuumed then mopped and then put some "Rejuvenate" on the places where the wood had been scraped.
While I had the vacuum out, I vacuumed the walls of dust or spider webs. I sanded the spots I had filled on Sunday and then sucked up the dust with the vacuum. But, I still needed to wash the walls.
Once everything was clean, I meticulously put blue tape over all of the baseboards, outlets, ceiling trim, window and door frames.
It was just about that time I ordered pizza for dinner. I stood eating the mushroom and black olive pizza, knowing that if I sat down, I might not get up again.
During all the prep, I took numerous trips up and down the basement stairs to get supplies, so I threw in loads of laundry, too.
Finally, I was ready to spread out the voluminous plastic sheet that would protect the wood floors from the paint. I taped that in place, too, before I started painting.
I climbed the rickety ladder to paint along the ceiling before clambering down to move the ladder and paint the bottom of the wall, and so I continued all the way around the room.
The room before was a dark golden wheat color.

I've lived with it for nine years now and thought I like it, but as I painted over it with this pale blue gray, I grew to detest the golden wheat color. I couldn't wait to cover it. Unfortunately, that same color is now in the dining room and kitchen, waiting to be painted.

Still have this blue gray paint on my fingernails this morning.

I think it is turning out quite well.

The main color is the pale blue gray, and the wall that juts out over the fireplace is this darker blue gray.

I'll probably use that darker color on the far wall in the kitchen too since the entire house is open from the living room, dining room to kitchen -- open plan, as they call it on the real estate shows.
We haven't painted the trim yet and will probably do the trim for all of the rooms at the same time. I'm hoping to lure my children into painting parties so that I don't have to do it alone.
Exhausted, I went to bed around 10:30 and then couldn't fall asleep until after 1. Perhaps I was too physically tired.
Anyway, I'm rewarding myself this morning. I started reading The Enemies of Versailles last night when I couldn't sleep, and one of the characters was eating a luscious cream puff. It made me crave an eclair, so I ran (literally ran) to La Chatelaine, a French restaurant in Columbus, about three miles away, and bought an eclair. Once I got home, I made a latte and sat down with the book and my breakfast. 

Oh la la! What a reward.
Now back to real life, grading papers and figuring out how to move a piano in the dining room so I can paint behind it.

Tuesday Intros -- Abby's Journey

Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.
I am reading Abby's Journey as part of a blog tour for the author Steena Holmes. I think they contacted me because of my love of travel, and the character Abby travels to Europe to experience the Christmas markets.
This story is about Abby whose mother died giving birth to her, and since Abby was premature, she has always had health issues. When her doctor gives her a clear bill of health, her grandmother whisks her away to Munich, Salzburg and Brussels so they can experience the Christmas markets, something Abby's mother always dreamed of doing.

Here's the intro, a prologue which is a letter from Claire, Abby's mother, to her husband, before she died:

Dear Josh,
I've written this letter a thousand times (okay that might be exaggerating just a little, but I have written it a few times now). At first, it was a list of parenting tips, because that's what I do, I write lists. And then you would read it and memorize it, because that's what you do to humor me.
But then I realized that I don't want the last letter I write to you to be solely a display of my inner control freak. But Josh, the list is a good one. It really is. So how about this -- I'll add it to the end of this letter on a separate sheet, so you can post it on the fridge or leave it on your desk, somewhere you can reference it when things get too hard.

 I'm also joining in with Teaser Tuesday which is a weekly bookish meme, hosted Ambrosia @The Purple Booker.
Here's my teaser from page 6, which is a letter to Abby from her mother:

"Don't be afraid to dream great things -- things you think are beyond your grasp.
Trust me. I know what I'm talking about. If I'd given up on my dream for a baby, you wouldn't be here. And honestly, I can't imagine that. 

What do you think?
I'll be reviewing this book on March 16 if you want to come back to see what I think.  

Dreaming of France -- France on a Sunny Day

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.
We set off from Aix en Provence toward Mont Sainte Victoire, planning to hike up the mountain. The instructions were a little unclear about where we could park and where the trail might start. Soon, we found ourselves in the small village of Vauvenargues.

We ended up parking near a church that had some hiking information on the door. No one answered the door, but a priest wandered out and we asked him for directions. 

Luckily, while we were stopped, we spotted this sky-blue Citroen. 

We also got a lovely view of Picasso's house. Picasso moved near Mont Sainte Victoire after being inspired by Cezanne's paintings of the mountain. 

I hope you have sunshine, or at least some inspiration today. 

Thanks for playing along with Dreaming of France and please visit the blogs of others who join in too.

Brisk Morning

After weeks of warm weather, winter decided to visit again. Yesterday, the temperature was in the 30s when I got up. This morning, they had dipped into the 20s -- 24 to be precise (-4 C).
But I pulled on my running clothes and headed out. The road was slippery in places, but I managed to stay upright throughout my seven-mile run.
And as the sun rose, I was rewarded for my tenacity.

And I took a couple more pictures to show how the dusting of snow is affecting the spring growth.

These crocuses don't look too bothered by the snow.

Our daffodils haven't bloomed yet. There's a leftover Christmas bulb in this garden, slowly fading. 

These daffodils do not look very happy with their coating of snow. 

Hope you have something hopeful and beautiful in your life today too.

Birth Stories

Tomorrow, my youngest child turns 21 -- an official adult.
There's a story that I can't share with Tucker, so I thought I'd tell you instead.
When Grace was 3 and Spencer was about 19 months old, we decided to try for another baby.
That May, Earl and I went away to Mackinac Island for a long weekend. Mackinac Island is a beautiful island in northern Michigan where cars aren't allowed so people travel by bicycle or by horse and carriage.
After we returned home, I said to Earl, "Let's wait to try for a baby. We'll just enjoy Grace and Spencer while they're young."

A beautiful neighbor who loved to spend time with the kids. 

And he agreed, so we went back to using my diaphragm, although, let's face it, having two toddlers is generally enough of a birth control option.
By father's day, we realized that the weekend away had succeeded in my third pregnancy, so our decision to wait came a week too late.
Since Earl's 40th birthday would arrive before the baby was born, it turned out for the best that we didn't delay having our third child.
With each of our children, we chose not to know the gender of the baby. We wanted the surprise when they arrived.
With a girl and a boy already in the family, the sex of this third baby didn't really matter -- we had one of each, but I always yearned for Grace to have a sister. I lost my sister when I was 14 and at every stage of my life, I wondered how life would be different if my sister was still alive. I jealously watched families with sisters, thinking they stayed closer as they grew older.
Before I ever had children, I had three names that I loved -- Alexandra, Brigid and Francesca.
For some reason, in the midst of my pregnancy hormones, I agree to name our daughter Grace Alexandra rather than any of the three names I had chosen.
So as we anticipated the birth of our third child, I decided we would name a girl Francesca.
Earl talked me out of the name Francesca earlier by threatening to call our daughter Frankie. But the day that Grace stood up to the family and insisted everyone call her Grace rather than Gracie, I realized that our children would let their father and everyone else know which names were acceptable. I'd deal with Earl calling our daughter a male name when the time came.
Because we knew that this would be our final child, we asked a friend to videotape it. She had no idea what she was in for, because Tucker was born at 4:20 a.m. She sat up all night waiting to videotape this final birth.
I've watched it a few times, and in the midst of the squeals of pain, the nurse midwife asked if I wanted to pull the baby out, and I did. I wanted nothing more than to get that baby out of there.
So I reached down and grasped his shoulders and ripped him out of there. Thank God!
As they checked that he was healthy, it took a few minutes for anyone to mention the gender of the baby. Finally, Earl said, "It's a boy."
My first words after the announcement: "You were supposed to be Francesca!"
I imagine how sad it might make Tucker to think that I wished he was a girl instead of a boy.
I didn't.

I'm delighted that Spencer and Tucker have grown up as friends and playmates, swords swinging plus bows and arrows twanging.
Tucker has been entertaining and so devoted to me. A mama's boy from the minute he was born.

And I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy birthday, Tucker.

Dreaming of France -- New Website

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.
It's hard for me to separate my writing life and my love for France, especially since three out of my four books are set in France.
So with that tenuous connection, I'll share with you my new website.

I worked with Freelancer.com and got a helpful young man from Pakistan to build my website.
As you can see from the top right,  it has buttons to connect to me on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest.
The bottom of the page features my books and even has some of my book trailers on the main page.

You can learn more about my books by clicking on the "Books" page , and there are even a few pictures of France sprinkled on the FAQ page. 

I hope you'll visit my knew website and let me know what you think. 

Thanks for playing along and please visit the blogs of others who join in too.

Birthday Celebrations

This has been a  super busy week for me because I'm teaching online-only classes for one university starting next week, so I had to complete three weeks of online training, along with grading 60 papers from the other college where I teach, plus the actual teaching.
The end of the training is in sight though, and I'll be able to teach online no matter where I live (think France).
Now that I have a few minutes of down time, I wanted to tell you about my birthday extravaganza.
It started Thursday morning with a marvelous 5-mile run in the 54-degree weather. That is the warmest it has ever been on my birthday when I lived in Ohio.

I'm a blur because I took this picture as I was running. 

 When I got home from my run, my dutiful husband was in the kitchen putting an egg wash on the chocolate croissants before he slid them in the oven.

So after my shower, I got to enjoy a chocolate croissant. Then we drove through Starbucks on the way to work for a free birthday drink. I got my favorite, a white chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso -- all decaf, since I've been off caffeine for years now, ever since 2012 when I broke my nose and had caffeine withdrawal before my surgery. But that's another story you can read here if you want. 

On Tuesdays and Thursdays I teach from 8-2 with 10 minute breaks between each of my four classes. So things were pretty normal without any birthday fun. Only one class knew that it was my birthday and they urged me to cut class short so I could celebrate.
After I got home from work, I changed into my spring-time sandals. So pleased to be able to share the pedicure that my husband had given me for Valentine's Day.

I went to the coffee shop for our Writers' Group and found a beautiful of pink gerbera daisies and a birthday card signed by the baristas plus my fellow writers.
Another writing friend came in with a balloon that says "Proud of You." He loved that it was so random.
Then two other friends came bearing gifts -- Angie brought me power greens because she doesn't like them. Emily stopped by with her two-year-old and gave me a quart of blueberries. I used them both to make juice the next morning.
Then, as the rain began to pour, my husband showed up to escort me to dinner. We were going to a restaurant just down the street from the coffee shop. All three kids showed up, although Tucker had to leave early for a game in his soccer league, and Spencer got there late because he was working.
There is just something satisfying about gathering all my children together.

We had a starter of goat cheese with tomato aioli and toast triangles. Then I had crab cakes for my main course.
We came home afterward to a luscious-looking cake that my husband made. This was my favorite cake as a child, and each year Earl tries to recreate it. The icing is boiled and can be so tricky to make. It has to be boiled to the exact temperature and then beaten until it loses its sheen.
This year, it turned out perfectly so that it hardened on the cake like a fudge shell.

We also opened a bottle of dessert wine to drink with the cake. 
Yes, the wine came from France and is one of the few remaining bottles we have from our trips. I guess we'll stock up again in May when we travel to southwest France again.
Grace's boyfriend Jack was able to join us after his play rehearsal, so even though we lost Tucker to soccer, we gained another dark-haired boy for the celebration.
I went to bed full and happy, but the festivities continued the next morning with a facial, which was my birthday present.
The esthetician, who has been giving me a facial once a year, went on an on about how good my skin felt. She suspected it might have been the juice cleanse which made it so healthy. "It even looks good under the magnifying lamp and that's saying something!"
But I focused on the relaxation of the facial and felt totally relaxed when I walked out.
Ahhh. I love birthdays, even if this is the last one I'll celebrate in the U.S. It definitely lived up to my expectations.

Dreaming of France -- Healthy Food

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.
This week, because of some borderline medical test results (nothing serious), we have started getting serious about eating healthier.
If we already lived in France, we'd be eating healthier, so we might as well get a jump on it. But I expect it to be a bit more challenging here in the U.S.
In France, we'll visit the market a few times a week and buy whatever is fresh.

Do you think these oranges came from Spain?

These potatoes and peppers look firm and fresh.
We're trying to eat more whole foods, cutting down on carbs and sugars.
Salad seems to always be a part of a French meal, traditionally after the main course, although some restaurants have begun to serve them before the main course, more American style.

That's not to say that we will only eat fruits and vegetables. We'll definitely indulge in French specialties, such as these galettes served with hard cider.

Galettes are similar to crepes but they are made with buckwheat rather than white flour, and they are savory instead of sweet. These galettes might have been filled with cheese, ham, potatoes, eggs or a variety of other fillings. 

I hope I've convinced you to start thinking about more whole foods, as my family embarks on healthier meals. Tonight, we had garlic butter haddock filets, baked sweet potatoes and green beans. 

Thanks for playing along and please visit the blogs of others who join in too.

Tuesday Intro -- Letters from Paris

Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.
I wrote about this book Letters from Paris by Juliet Blackwell for Dreaming of France on Monday, so I thought I'd share the intro today. The book goes back and forth in time from Claire Broussard who grew up in Louisiana and travels to Paris after the death of her grandmother who raised her. She's

trying to track down the artists who make masks like the one she found in her attic as a child, and the mask might be connected to her own history. The book jumps back in time to 1897 to tell the story of Sabine, a young French woman who travels to Paris in hopes of finding work.

Here's the intro from the prologue:

February 27, 1898
He sleeps.
Sabine creeps across the dark studio before dawn, beseeching the silent faces not to betray her. They watch her every move, mute witnesses to her crime.
Slipping through the door, she winces at the scraping sound of metal on metal as she pauses to latch it behind her. Fog envelops her,, the mist cutting through her threadbare blouse and underthings, wet needles of cold air piercing her skin. 

  I'm also joining in with Teaser Tuesday which is a weekly bookish meme, hosted Ambrosia @The Purple Booker.
Here's my teaser from page 65:

Claire's stomach growled again. And knock her over with a feather: there was a McDonald's. Right there on the Champs-Elysees.
If that wasn't a sign, she didn't know what was. Claire ducked into the fast-food restaurant. 

I don't know about you, but I'm a little put off by an American who eats at McDonalds when in France. We did it when we traveled with the kids, but I would have to be super homesick pass up French restaurants and cafes to eat at McDonalds.

Here are the kids outside a McDonalds as we drove through France. 

Hope everyone is reading something good.

Female Friends and Dieting

What is it about telling a female friend that you are dieting that makes her urge you to stop?
My friend Sheila says maybe we're only trying to help each other increase our self-esteem -- "You look great!" "You don't need to lose weight!" or even "Diets don't work."
We all do it.
I don't enjoy dieting, but a look at the scale reminds me that I weigh about 30 pounds more than I did when we moved to Columbus.

I was even heavier here when we traveled to France in 2015.
I don't want to avoid cameras or dislike my photos in France
because of my weight. 

I weigh almost as much now as I did when I gave birth to my youngest, and he's the one I gained the most weight with.
Yes, I know that muscle weighs more than fat and that I work out constantly so I am probably healthy, but what is wrong with wanting to be at a lower weight?
I'm not trying to lose 30 pounds. People say that would be too skinny, but if you look at me when I was that weight, you wouldn't think I was anorexic.

See? Healthy. Not too skinny. But also young. I'm not trying
to get to that weight. Just less than I am now. 

I look good, healthy -- although at the time, I never realized it.

I just want to lose about 10 pounds.
If I lose 4 pounds from where I am now -- mid diet -- I'll officially not be overweight anymore. That means I'll reach the top end of the BMI which means between 21-25 BMI. Again, I know that muscle might throw off the official BMI reading, but if you looked at the places I carry fat, you really can't argue that I could lose those pounds and it wouldn't hurt. It might make me feel better, run faster, feel sexy about my body.
I promise I'm not in danger of becoming anorexic, and I'm not judging anyone else who is happy with their body. Good for you. I hope to join you on that platform once I reach my goal.

Dreaming of France -- Letters From Paris

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.

I started reading Letters from Paris by Juliet Blackwell. I'm not sure where it's going yet, but it features Claire Broussard who grew up in Louisiana and travels to Paris after the death of her grandmother who raised her. She's trying to track down the artists who make masks like the one she
found in her attic as a child, and the mask might be connected to her own history, as the book jumps back in time to 1897 to tell the story of a young French woman who travels to Paris in hopes of finding work.

Hope I enjoy it and feel fully immersed in Paris.
Have you read a good book set in France that you would recommend?
Thanks for playing along and please visit the blogs of others who join in too.

Signs of Spring

I know I should be worried about global warming rather than rejoicing in the unseasonably warm weather, but I can't help feeling a little thrill when I see those green shoots breaking through the dirt.

It's only February, but soft pussy willow buds hang at the end of tree limbs and birds chirp from bare branches.

These are hollyhocks already sprouting. 

The temperature today rose into the 60s. And, although it looks to dip down into the 30s in the coming week, predictions are for 60s again next weekend.

This is an iris that has already faced some winter weather

And I'm not the only one enjoying the warm weather.

He wouldn't lie still but kept rolling around, so he looks slightly evil. 

Two Embarrassing Moments with Juicing

I started a juice cleanse yesterday -- time to throw off the lethargic feeling that catches up with me in winter.
In the afternoon, I made a juice with beets and apples and carrots plus strawberries.
Beet juice is the worst for staining everything!
Afterwards, I decided to walk to the grocery store because the temperature was near 60 degrees and the sun was shining. I started off, it's about a mile away, and I noticed red stains on the cuffs of my tan sweater. I just folded them over and kept going.
When I got home, I went to the laundry room and took off my sweater to put stain remover on it. That's when I saw the huge red stain on the back of my sweater. Somehow, I managed to get beet juice on my back and walk around town, along with through the grocery store, parading it.
I felt like Terry Bradshaw in that Super Bowl ad, only he meant to have a stain and got paid big bucks for it.

Today, I teach from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. I brought along some of the infamous beet juice. I have to be careful drinking it because it also stains my lips and outside my lip line, looking like I drunkenly applied lipstick. So I'm very careful to wipe the corners of my mouth when I'm drinking it.
I only have 10 minutes between four classes, so I rarely have time to stop in the bathroom. Today, one class finished early and I rushed into the bathroom.
As I was washing my hands, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw that I had a bright red dot of beet juice on my nose.
Seriously? I just met with each student individually and I had beet juice on my nose.
I'm still drinking it, but I'd better up my personal cleanliness bar.
Hope you are avoiding embarrassing moments, unlike me.

Dreaming of France -- Football

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.
Here in the U.S., we are all gathering around our televisions to celebrate American football with the Super Bowl, so I thought I'd show you our experience with European football.
When we traveled to Europe in 2006, the boys loved our hotel room view in Bandol -- not because we could see the Mediterranean but because we overlooked a large soccer field. Soccer to us, football to Europeans.
At the time, Spencer was more into soccer than Tucker, but he convinced his brother to join him.

Tucker is wearing the Beckham shirt

Spencer is wearing the Inter Milan soccer shirt. 

And the boys eventually made friends with some French boys who played soccer with them.
This was the kind of international experience we wanted them to have.

They couldn't actually speak to each other, but they managed to play some Football until some grown up yelled at them to get off the field. 

I hope everyone else has a sportif weekend, whether you're watching the Super Bowl or not.
Thanks for playing along and please visit the blogs of others who join in too.