Sometimes I'm at a loss

for words. Especially during the times that I'm caught alone, in the midst of beauty that was thought to only exist in fairy-tales. Sophie and I took a walk up, up, up to the top of the hill yesterday only to discover these amazing hills, all covered with bright yellow dandelions and as our eyes rose above the fields our hearts began to fill...a perfect view of the snow capped Alps. I couldn't help but smile and acknowledge the Creator of such beauty and Sophie showed her appreciation by taking a poo in the bushes. She then began to run, and so did I. We ran the trails through the flowery fields, into the heavily shaded woods, over the creek, and past the cows. And when our hearts felt full enough to burst, we stopped and sat amongst it all. Bees and butterflies whizzed past, busily collecting nature's sweet, the distant clamoring of the cowbells filled the silence, and a sweet breeze blew through our hair (or fur).


I smiled again and Sophie licked my hand, as if to acknowledge and affirm my thoughts. Ah. I'm so friggin' blessed.

Dear Anti-deodorant European,

Now that it is Spring, and the sun is shining, the temperatures rising, it'd probably be a good idea to revisit that old friend in the medicine cabinet labeled "deodorant" and use freely.


Sincerely,

Your friendly American neighbor

Highlights

Why you should be proud of me today:

1. I blew a successful snot rocket
2. I made small talk...IN FRENCH!
3. I outran a bumble-bee

C'est tout.

Oh the South

My husband is the greatest. No, really...he's the best person in the whole world. Thursday morning, Nathan phoned me to ask if I could cancel all of our plans and find a dog-sitter. Now, if you know me well, you know that I hate surprises (well, at least I thought I did). I hate being unprepared, or not being able to visualize where I'm going (both in the literal and metaphoric sense). I like the idea of spontaneity, but when it comes to packing for a trip--I need to know what's going on (will there be a big city? a beach? a long promenade? hills? a shower? grit and filth? glitz and glamour? pretentious people? ponies?!) so I can match these shoes to that top and so on.

Friday afternoon approached, and we piled the luggage (an entire suitcase for me) into the car. I did well, friends. I didn't pry, I didn't complain; instead, I sat there smiling and waiting for Nathan to need my help. See, I'm the navigator on trips. Nathan and I believe that every travel experience is just another way to prep for the Amazing Race (which is one of the contributing factors to why I learned how to drive a manual, or why I can run across the entire Atlanta airport with a loaded 30 lb+ backpack and only three minutes before they close our flight). With that being said, I've become quite good at reading maps, finding routes, and "gently" explaining that Nathan took the wrong turn. Since we don't have a GPS yet, I knew that he would enlist my help sooner or later.

An hour goes by and he hands me this:
A picture of a beautiful port with a beautifully crowded landscape. Then on the back:
A note giving me my first clue (signed DogWriter--Nathan's pen-name when he was a kid). I had no clue--I mean, I knew it had to be close to an ocean (duh, port), but there's a lot of ocean in driving distance from Switzerland!

It's not until two hours later that he finally tells me where we're going (I helped navigate, but had to promise not to look at the last page where the final destination was announced). We were going to the French Riviera and staying in the Old Port of Marseille! I was ecstatic.

After a five hour drive (which mostly consisted of looking at this beauty all around),
we pulled up to our hotel just as the sun was setting in the harbor. An old fort stood tall and displayed a golden hue in the sun's reflection. Sailboats were tied to the docks, resting and waiting for their morning voyage, and slowly the city was coming alive with sun-kissed pedestrians chatting and laughing loudly, perusing the promenade's shops and restaurants; the smell of sea salt and fresh caught fish in the air.

This, my friends, began one of the most memorable trips in our marriage. It's safe to say that the French Riviera is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Here are some pictures to prove it:

An old castle on the port, right next to our hotel

The port at night

View from our hotel's rooftop pool

A toast? Some Veuve will do the trick.



The harbor

Dancing because I'm happy.


The sun peeks through an alley


Drying clothes


Fishermen's nets

Returning with the morning catch


Fishermen greet


HUGE swordfish


Church on the hilltop

Nathan stepping inside the sanctuary [absolute silence]

View from the church on the hill


Boardwalk in Cassis (notice the little girl power-walking)


The plage


Chocolate gelato? Yes, please.

Hiking to find a view


Well, I guess you can call this a view...

View from clifftop in Cassis


Poolside after a long day of exploring


Dusk in the harbor


Beach near Bandol. We ate roasted chicken, baguette, brie and goat cheese and drank a local white from Cassis. It was heavenly!


Our car, now nicknamed "Jazzy," had quite the initiation

And that, my friends, is why I have the best husband in the world.

A preview

Could this be what lies in the future for me and Sophie? Oh Lord...

Time to be a hermit

Ladies and Gentlemen,

It's officially time for me to turn off my phone, grab a blanket, a cup of coffee, and settle into my couch---it has arrived!!!

My fascination with The Hunger Games series began on my initial trip to Switzerland in November and must all be attributed to my former high school students. So many of them were turning in assignments with references to these books and I felt that it was my teacher-ly duty to stay relevant and read what all of the hype was about (yeah right, I'm a sucker for great Y.A. lit! Except I'd like to have a few words with Stephanie Meyer...but that's another story). I started the book at the airport on the way to La Suisse, and finished the book the second day. This, my friends, is what I like to call crack lit...it's not necessarily good for you in terms of its intellectual stimulation, but...you...just...can't....stop.

Needless to say, it's been more than five months since I've read about Katniss and her adventures, and I'm more than ecstatic that it can all begin again (the entire bus ride home from the bookstore, I had to restrain from opening the book...wait til you get home, wait til you get home). The second book, Catching Fire, arrived yesterday, and folks, I'll see you in a few days...

Read all about The Hunger Games and Suzanne Collins here:
http://www.thehungergames.co.uk/

New Car...Now kids???

We officially decided to suck it up and buy a car today. We rented a car for the afternoon and visited car lots throughout the Lausanne/Geneva area. The first thing I want to report is the major stride I must have taken in terms of my language acquisition...the first car lot we went to, the salesmen knew zero English, so I had to converse and translate car talk (which is NOT my forte) totally in French--we got back in our car and as we were driving away, Nathan exclaimed, "Wow! I'm so proud of you! You totally did all of that in French!" Really exciting.


Anyway, to make this short, we ended up finding a car that we both felt peace about...and...we spoke the unspeakable (at least to us)...one of the deciding factors in choosing this car was the fact that we could see it being a FAMILY car. I got the heebie-jeebies as Nathan said this, but a few minutes later, I couldn't help but smile and agree, "I can see this car being our FAMILY car..." Oh man, we're in for it now...

Picture Perfect Recipe for an Academy Award Winning Preview

Witty and surprisingly accurate portrayal of movie previews. Enjoy!

For the love of leeks

Just as Julia Child had her staple in the kitchen (butter, butter, and more butter) I've been toying around with what could become my new "Euro-staple." Well, I have found it...and it shall be named leek love.


It all started when my sister came into town and wanted to try a recipe with leeks. I've often seen these weird looking vegetables (are they vegetables?) in the market and in every Swiss person's grocery basket, but I never knew what they were or how to cook them, so of course, I steered away.

So with my sister as my co-chef, we set out to cook these babies to create a leek and potato soup. After a few hours of cooking, we settled in with bowls of warm soup and a baguette fresh out of the oven. Folks, what I encountered was love-at-first-spoonful; these succulent stems pack a punch, yet have a buttery warmth that hits the tongue. Since then, I've made three different recipes with leeks (leek casserole, vegetable soup, etc.) and I plan to continue--hopefully Nathan won't get leeked out!

Now if you would like to partake in the leek-lovin', please be advised that the leek is a "kissing cousin" of the onion and garlic. Therefore, please take necessary precautions:

1. If there is a chance you may kiss someone after consumption of the leek, make sure the kiss-ee has had a portion of the leek dish as well (two leeky breaths cancel each other out...duh).http://www.nataliedee.com/archives/2009/May/
2. If you are the one preparing the dish, and if you're anything like me and uncontrollably cry when chopping onions, etc., please wear protective eye-wear.
3. Be prepared for a slight leek addiction.*

*Don't say I didn't warn you. Bon Appétit!

I'll toast to that...

Christy and Chad left yesterday and both Nathan and I went about our day in a melancholy haze. It was a gorgeous day--the sun illuminated the snow-capped Alps, the birds flew above us, hastily making their nests for new arrivals this spring--but we were feeling a bit low. After talking about it a bit, we began to realize how bittersweet it is to have loved ones visit. Once they come, they have to leave, and it's always us who will be left behind.

Later that evening, we decided to open up a nice bottle of champagne and celebrate our first night of it being "just us" since early March. As Nathan was pouring his second glass, he looked at me and said, "You know...the best part is, when people leave, I get to be left behind with you."

I couldn't help but smile and admire the boyish grin on my husband's face. "I'll toast to that," I replied, and our glasses clinked.