Dear Everyone (if I have any blog stalkers left)...
I have been utterly horrible at keeping up with this blog. I can't seem to keep up with three different blogs. I'm not that organized.
Therefore, I am moving all family, photography and recipe posts to our new photography blog. You can access it at www.bluerockphotos.com/blog. The pictures are bigger. I update it almost daily. You'll be able to see what's new with my photography. What's new with Weslee. What's new with our travels. And what's new with our life.
We love you all and we'll see you there!
:) Teri
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
The Reasons I love you...
Oh my little man! You are a bucket of personality right now. There's not a day that goes by that I don't die laughing. We have the most fun together...and you keep me young each time we play!Some of my favorite parts about you right now are: You love to give kisses...butterfly kisses, eskimo kisses, and regular kisses...you are so affectionate. I love how you hug and kiss both your dad and I each night before bed and we have to pry you off!
You are starting to "get" and initiate games like "hide and seek". You love to "hide" from mom and dad, even if we are right there beside you watching you hide. You love to giggle and "shhh" at yourself while waiting for us to discover you under towels, couches, behind beds, and under the table. We often find you buried under all of your blankets at night, sweating to death, still waiting for us to find you. When it gets quiet in your room, we tippy toe in there to pull you out from your sweaty hiding spot, put Sheepie under your arm, and cover you properly. We can't help but kiss your head and talk about how adorable you are.
You have started imitating people's conversations. Because you can't string together real words quickly enough, you often throw in the important ones and fill in the rest of the conversation with what dad and I have started calling "Dub a Dub" language. Your conversation might sound like this. "Mom! Dub a dubba dub a Sheepie dub a dubba dub down". We'll reply. "Oh no! Did Sheepie fall down?" Your answer: "Yeaaaah. Sheepie down." You also like to copy the exact words you hear in conversations between people. For instance, at church this past Sunday while waiting for us to remove you from your carseat, you heard us greet another family with "How are you doing?" and you heard them reply "Oh Fine!". Suddenly, from the backseat we heard, "How a do-neen? Fiiiiiiiiine!" Your dad and I cracked up and complimented you on your big words.
You are a little crazy...it's totally true. And you come by it honestly. At night (or really, whenever you're tired), you don't get cranky, you get WILD! Tonight was just such a night. You needed a bath REALLY badly and we put you into the tub a little late. By the end of the bath, there was more water on the floor than in the tub I think. You had your terry cloth puppet, "Mr. Frog" diving into the water at alarming speeds, sending water and bubbles flying over the edge of the tub. You were laughing at the top of your lungs. You thought it was utterly hilarious. (To be honest, I couldn't help laughing too.) Again, at church, we woke you before you were ready and you were tired inside the chapel. We brought Teddy Grahams to keep you occupied. You decided to make a game of it and tried stuffng the crackers in as fast as you could. You looked like a chipmunk that had had too much caffeine! Your cheeks were filled with cracker and you were shaking your arm was so tense trying to make it go faster and faster from bag to mouth! We tried not to bust out laughing right in the middle of testimonies!
You are a good friend. You still love and care for the other kids you play with. You're still good at sharing, though you have learned the word "Mine!", you're quick to say "Sorry" if another kid gets hurt...even if you weren't the one at fault. You're still laid back and easy going. You are a happy kid, and I love you so much for it! You are just happy to be alive...and it reminds me everyday to look for my blessings too and count them one by one...starting with YOU!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Paris, France
At the last moment, Kevin and I decided to go to Paris for our 9th anniversary. Our friends, the Hatchs, were kind enough to watch Weslee for our 3 1/2 day trip.
I found out some interesting things about myself on this trip. I found out that I've allowed propaganda from the various wars in my lifetime to make me prejudice against the French...and other nationalities as well. I went to Paris not expecting to like the French people very much. I think subconsciously, I thought I'd find a mob of people who hated Americans, were burning their bras and our flag in the streets, and in general, just behaving like heathens.
Instead, we were greeted by a highly cultured, cordial people who took a great deal of pride in their history, their food, and their city. They were kind and patient as we stumbled through our handful of poorly spoken French phrases and flat out asked for help in English. One waiter went so far as to explain his entire menu to us and help us order something that was typical of the region. Only one unsavory character crossed our path...and that was on our first night while trying to purchase tickets for the metro. He was just a little too friendly for both of our likings...and while I went straight to the assumption that the man was mentally ill (a year in a mental health facility will do that to you), Kevin realized that we were being pickpocketed and caught the guy before he had taken anything of value. It kept us a little on edge the rest of the trip, especially when we were in large crowds...like at the Eiffel Tower or in the Notre Dame (sad, but true). Many times, we'd see signs warning of pickpockets and to keep watchful care of your valuables. And, in other exciting robbery news...we weren't able to visit the large market on the Rue Mouffetard because a bank robbery was in progress. They shut the entire area down and even had a very loud and noisy helicopter hovering above the few city blocks we had intended to visit that morning. We had planned to purchase some interesting cheeses and a roasted chicken for lunch that day...but we ended up lunching at a sandwich shop instead. Oh well...we captured some fun-filled pictures of the helicopter at least.
So...what were our impressions of Paris itself? I have to say that the first night, arriving near midnight, shrouded the City of Lights in a veil of depravity. Again, I had arrived with my prejudices and the almost immediate attack of a pickpocket had me thinking and feeling the worst. The stench of urine hung heavy in the metro station and it seemed to me that slouchy, homeless characters leered at Kevin and I hauling our luggage through the night waiting to jump us when the crowd died down. When the metro train pulled up, I stared at the cars covered in graffiti and was actually afraid to board. We exited the train at Place de Clichy and as we emerged from the dark of the station, we were met with the red glowing lights of the Moulin Rouge, and blaring neon that shouted "Sex", "Fantasy" and "XXX". As we walked down the street, two homeless men urinated in the bushes while watching us pass. It later struck us as ironic that the bushes they were watering were only a few feet from a free public restroom. Crouching around our belongings, Kevin finally pulled out our GPS to find our hotel and within a few minutes walk, we found the Hotel Utrillo.
Online, the Hotel Utrillo was given a 3 star rating. It even came highly recommended in Fodor's travel guide. It was indeed in a safe and bustling neighborhood by day...but again, we arrived at just after midnight and the place seemed dead and the street outside very dark. Our actual room was tiny, but clean. Except for the moldy tiles in the shower...but we've come to expect that as "normal" in the European countries. We actually came to like our room quite well. The bed was comfortable, the neighborhood lively, the metro station close...and we just ignored the moldy smell emanating from the shower.
Day two began to convince us of Paris's charms. As we walked down the street toward the Place de Clichy, the smell of the cafes and baking bread filled the streets. The locals and tourists alike dined on the sidewalks and the sound of clinking glassware could be heard like little tinkling bells in the distance. We basked in the already warm sun. We ate fresh bread and Pain au chocolat from the boulangerie and bought some of the best nectarines I've ever eaten from the market across the street. We enjoyed them while sitting in front of the Moulin Rouge, engaging in France's greatest passtime...people watching. It was fun to enjoy the fruit and bread while watching tourists fumble with their maps, and lovers stroll aimlessly along while holding hands. Today we were better with the Metro. It began to make sense, at least to Kevin and we soon found ourselves at the Louvre. We took the 1 1/2 hour "masterpieces" tour, getting lost in the maze of art and finding ourselves snapping pictures of some of the most iconic pieces on earth. Kevin desecribed Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" as the most "overrated painting of all time". Though, I must say...she really drew the crowds. The crowds were so large, it was almost impossible to get a picture. I did something I never do to finally snap a shot. I knowingly broke the rules and got on Kevin's shoulders to finally grab a picture. It's funny...it you look closely, you can see the museum steward's very surprised face. Two seconds later, another steward was kindly asking us something that began with "Si vous plait" which we interpretted to mean that my picture time with Mona was done. A little embarrassed...but quite a bit triumphant, I moved on to the next masterpiece. My favorite of all of the paintings was one of Napoleon Bonaparte. It was so real to life, it felt like you could step into the painting like it was another room. I also really enjoyed Michelangelo's "Two Slaves". Kevin and I reaffirmed something about ourselves that we've always really suspected...we have no appreciation for art. We admire some of the aspects of art, like the time it takes to create the masterpieces, and the details in some of the sculpture...but really, after an hour and a half in the museum, both of us were no longer impressed with critic acclaimed pictures of naked women. The French Revolution picture was the most perplexing. The Republic, represented by a woman who's shirt has fallen off, is marching along with blood soaked, scruffy soldiers. We kept wondering why her shirt needed to be off? To us it was just gratuious nudity. It didn't make sense.
Anyways...back to the subject at hand...Paris. After the Louvre, we walked to the Notre Dame. What a beautiful cathedral. Our favorite part was climbing up to the top to catch a panoramic view of the city. We got to tour the bell towers...and NO, Quasi Moto is not there. We checked. Although the line to climb the top was absolutely crazy, going to the top of Notre Dame was by far, one of our favorite things we did. We have decided that since there are no big mountains to hike around here, we've taken to hiking churches and castles. So far, I have hiked to the top of some of the most iconic cathedrals in Europe. The Duomo in Florence, Italy...the Notre Dame in Paris, France...and this December, my whole family will hike to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral in London. After touring the top, we went inside. The stained glass was absolutely breathtaking. I don't think I've ever seen such gorgeous windows. I will have to say that I pitied the people who use the church as a place of worship. There were hordes of tourists coming and going, snapping pictures, clinking money into the money bins to buy candles to light for relatives and other people who need prayers, people whispering to one another, tour guides answering questions. I find that when I'm trying to commune with God, it takes all of my concentration to really tell him about my feelings, my struggles, and my needs. It takes all of my strength to listen for inspiration and guidance about how to meet those challenges. I wondered if I would be able to gain that kind of communion with my Maker if all of the hub-bub that happened in Notre Dame were happening in my own Sunday chapel back home? I don't think I would. My heart went out to them.
After a ham and cheese crepe, and alot of walking, we were back home. We crashed into bed with sore feet, but happy and cheerful thoughts. It had been a good day.
Day three was the day we headed to the market at Rue de Mouffetard. We weren't able to go to the market because of the bank robbery in progress...so, we caught a Batobus (which is one of the many boats that go up and down the River Seine) and rode from Notre Dame to the Eiffel Tower. I got so many good pictures. It was so cool to see the Eiffel Tower rise majestically as we rounded the bend in the river. We got out of the bus at the tower to take pictures in the daylight, hoping to go up the tower around sunset...and hoping that the insane crowds would die down (they didn't). There were lots of people selling miniature Eiffel Towers. Apparently they were illegal immigrants because they started running away when the Police showed up. I almost got killed trying to take a picture of them holding the miniatures (I have dumb moments...just like everyone else). My camera was focused on their hands, not their faces...and Kevin had to save me by taking the camera away. I was a little shaken for the next hour or so...more from my stupidity than anything else. But, I eventually got over it.
We headed to the Arc de Triomphe next. We ran across a VERY busy 6 lane roundabout, not realizing that there was an underground walkway to the Arch. We weren't the only ones who made that mistake. While at the Arch, I realized that the United States is not the only one with an Unnamed Soldier who has fallen in battle. In the center of the arch, an eternal flame burns for France's Unnamed Soldier. I'm sure every country has lost sons and daughters that can't be identified. My heart suddenly swelled for the French people and the sufferings they've felt during war. They became my brothers and my sisters that day.
From the Arch, we travelled down the Champs Elysees, which turned out to be the ritzy area of town. It was full of upscale shops and restaurants and a very interesting person dressed up like Pharoah who stood perfectly still and hoped you would put money in his little basket for standing so still. It was an interesting act. We saw another just down the street at the Place de Concordance where Madame la Guillotine used to stand. Now, a large obelisk and two fountains stand sentinel over the place that used to run with the blood of the noble men and women of France.
After a much needed dinner at the La Ferme de Opera sandwich shop, we headed yet again towards the Batobus to catch a ride to the Eiffel Tower. We decided to hike the first two floors and take the elevator to the top at the second floor. Not only was it cheaper, but again...Kevin and I like to hike (although the knee I hurt in soccer in high school doesn't always appreciate it). We only had to wait for 15 minutes before we were hike, hike, hiking our way to the tallest point in Paris. It turned out to be one of the most humorous events of the trip. It turns out, Kevin is VERY afraid of heights. I didn't know this about him. I've known the man for a decade and did not know that he could not tolerate heights. It was fun to watch him try to catch it all on video tape while trying not to look himself. He'd hang the video camera out over the edge and turn and look the other way. (We haven't watched the video yet...it might be fun to see what he took pictures of). It probably didn't help that the tower was made so that you can see all around you while you're climbing. Kevin would try to get up the stairs as quickly as possible so that he could stand on the platform and look out at the horizon. (When he's looking at the horizon, he's OK...it's when he looks down that it's a problem). The elevator ride to the very top was amusing as well. It was a glass elevator...and scary even for me. Kevin didn't really like that at all! I must say, though...he really pushes himself. He figures his only way to get over it is to make himself do it anyway. He actually looked over the edge more than I did. And, he hung my camera out over the edge to get some cool pics of the Tower from the top down. I was too afraid to do that. I actually couldn't watch him hang the camera over like that. It gave me butterflies. (Kevin's right...I've got my priorities ALL mixed up!) At night, the tower lit up and every hour on the hour, it presented a light show to the world. We were able to get down for the 11pm light show. It was so beautiful!
That night it was difficult to fall asleep. My feet hurt so badly from all of the climbing and walking. I had blisters. I felt like a cripple. But, I awoke the next morning ready for Versailles.
Before we checked out the next morning, we ran quickly down the street from the hotel to Santa Croce. There was another long flight of stairs and I thought I was going to die...but we made it. The cathedral was beautiful. The Parisians call it the "sculpted cloud" and for good reason. Made of sparkling white stone with domed chapels, it very much resembles a cloud. While we were there, a man played all kinds of wonderful music on a harp. Looking over the hazy city, it was a nice touch. We finally bought a few Eiffel Tower trinkets from some of the vendors there, grabbed a baguette sandwich for lunch and headed back to the hotel to check out.
From the hotel, we headed WITH all of our luggage to Versailles. Between the Metro and the train, it took 45 minutes to get there. By the time we got there, we had 2 hours to tour the place. Being the art fanatics that we are, we decided to skip the tour of the inside which probably housed alot more art and "fine" things, and opted instead to rent a golf cart and tour the gardens. It was SO MUCH FUN. Kevin drove us through the maze of shrubbery and trees that once used to be highly manicured gardens. It was fun to catch glimpes of King Louis XIV's palace through the green. The gardens were absolutely massive and it took an hour to drive at a steady pace of 5 mph through all of it. We barely had time to stop and snap pictures along the way. Kevin and I both came to the same conclusion at the end of the tour, however. While Versailles is certainly massive and impressive in it's sheer size, it lacks some character that we've seen in other palaces. Everything, the building facade, the gravel paths, even the sculptures...all blended together in a blinding swirl of white. It was fun to see what the "Sun King" thought was impressive and best displayed his pomp, though. It was a fun end of our Parisian tour.
Now, a couple of weeks down the road from the trip, the things that still stick in my mind are the smell of urine. Yes...it was quite a stench...and you unexpectedly came across the smell in the most random of places. The AMAZING bread. Kevin and I both agree that we will never call it "Italian" bread again...the Italians DON'T know what they're doing with bread...we know that from experience. But the French...ahhh....they DO know how to make some of the best bread in the world. I still crave it, even a few weeks later. I can feel the crispy crust and the lusciously chewy center in my mouth as I write this out...ok Teri...enough!!! How colorful it was. I was in love with their subway stations. I loved the loud colors, the modern chairs and benches. I loved how ecclectic Paris is. I could see myself being right at home as a photographer in Paris. And last, the sidewalk cafes. I couldn't get enough of the charm of sitting outdoors with a nice meal and your "honey" and watching the golden sunset bounce off of ancient buildings. In a word, it was wonderful.
I found out some interesting things about myself on this trip. I found out that I've allowed propaganda from the various wars in my lifetime to make me prejudice against the French...and other nationalities as well. I went to Paris not expecting to like the French people very much. I think subconsciously, I thought I'd find a mob of people who hated Americans, were burning their bras and our flag in the streets, and in general, just behaving like heathens.
Instead, we were greeted by a highly cultured, cordial people who took a great deal of pride in their history, their food, and their city. They were kind and patient as we stumbled through our handful of poorly spoken French phrases and flat out asked for help in English. One waiter went so far as to explain his entire menu to us and help us order something that was typical of the region. Only one unsavory character crossed our path...and that was on our first night while trying to purchase tickets for the metro. He was just a little too friendly for both of our likings...and while I went straight to the assumption that the man was mentally ill (a year in a mental health facility will do that to you), Kevin realized that we were being pickpocketed and caught the guy before he had taken anything of value. It kept us a little on edge the rest of the trip, especially when we were in large crowds...like at the Eiffel Tower or in the Notre Dame (sad, but true). Many times, we'd see signs warning of pickpockets and to keep watchful care of your valuables. And, in other exciting robbery news...we weren't able to visit the large market on the Rue Mouffetard because a bank robbery was in progress. They shut the entire area down and even had a very loud and noisy helicopter hovering above the few city blocks we had intended to visit that morning. We had planned to purchase some interesting cheeses and a roasted chicken for lunch that day...but we ended up lunching at a sandwich shop instead. Oh well...we captured some fun-filled pictures of the helicopter at least.
So...what were our impressions of Paris itself? I have to say that the first night, arriving near midnight, shrouded the City of Lights in a veil of depravity. Again, I had arrived with my prejudices and the almost immediate attack of a pickpocket had me thinking and feeling the worst. The stench of urine hung heavy in the metro station and it seemed to me that slouchy, homeless characters leered at Kevin and I hauling our luggage through the night waiting to jump us when the crowd died down. When the metro train pulled up, I stared at the cars covered in graffiti and was actually afraid to board. We exited the train at Place de Clichy and as we emerged from the dark of the station, we were met with the red glowing lights of the Moulin Rouge, and blaring neon that shouted "Sex", "Fantasy" and "XXX". As we walked down the street, two homeless men urinated in the bushes while watching us pass. It later struck us as ironic that the bushes they were watering were only a few feet from a free public restroom. Crouching around our belongings, Kevin finally pulled out our GPS to find our hotel and within a few minutes walk, we found the Hotel Utrillo.
Online, the Hotel Utrillo was given a 3 star rating. It even came highly recommended in Fodor's travel guide. It was indeed in a safe and bustling neighborhood by day...but again, we arrived at just after midnight and the place seemed dead and the street outside very dark. Our actual room was tiny, but clean. Except for the moldy tiles in the shower...but we've come to expect that as "normal" in the European countries. We actually came to like our room quite well. The bed was comfortable, the neighborhood lively, the metro station close...and we just ignored the moldy smell emanating from the shower.
Day two began to convince us of Paris's charms. As we walked down the street toward the Place de Clichy, the smell of the cafes and baking bread filled the streets. The locals and tourists alike dined on the sidewalks and the sound of clinking glassware could be heard like little tinkling bells in the distance. We basked in the already warm sun. We ate fresh bread and Pain au chocolat from the boulangerie and bought some of the best nectarines I've ever eaten from the market across the street. We enjoyed them while sitting in front of the Moulin Rouge, engaging in France's greatest passtime...people watching. It was fun to enjoy the fruit and bread while watching tourists fumble with their maps, and lovers stroll aimlessly along while holding hands. Today we were better with the Metro. It began to make sense, at least to Kevin and we soon found ourselves at the Louvre. We took the 1 1/2 hour "masterpieces" tour, getting lost in the maze of art and finding ourselves snapping pictures of some of the most iconic pieces on earth. Kevin desecribed Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" as the most "overrated painting of all time". Though, I must say...she really drew the crowds. The crowds were so large, it was almost impossible to get a picture. I did something I never do to finally snap a shot. I knowingly broke the rules and got on Kevin's shoulders to finally grab a picture. It's funny...it you look closely, you can see the museum steward's very surprised face. Two seconds later, another steward was kindly asking us something that began with "Si vous plait" which we interpretted to mean that my picture time with Mona was done. A little embarrassed...but quite a bit triumphant, I moved on to the next masterpiece. My favorite of all of the paintings was one of Napoleon Bonaparte. It was so real to life, it felt like you could step into the painting like it was another room. I also really enjoyed Michelangelo's "Two Slaves". Kevin and I reaffirmed something about ourselves that we've always really suspected...we have no appreciation for art. We admire some of the aspects of art, like the time it takes to create the masterpieces, and the details in some of the sculpture...but really, after an hour and a half in the museum, both of us were no longer impressed with critic acclaimed pictures of naked women. The French Revolution picture was the most perplexing. The Republic, represented by a woman who's shirt has fallen off, is marching along with blood soaked, scruffy soldiers. We kept wondering why her shirt needed to be off? To us it was just gratuious nudity. It didn't make sense.
Anyways...back to the subject at hand...Paris. After the Louvre, we walked to the Notre Dame. What a beautiful cathedral. Our favorite part was climbing up to the top to catch a panoramic view of the city. We got to tour the bell towers...and NO, Quasi Moto is not there. We checked. Although the line to climb the top was absolutely crazy, going to the top of Notre Dame was by far, one of our favorite things we did. We have decided that since there are no big mountains to hike around here, we've taken to hiking churches and castles. So far, I have hiked to the top of some of the most iconic cathedrals in Europe. The Duomo in Florence, Italy...the Notre Dame in Paris, France...and this December, my whole family will hike to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral in London. After touring the top, we went inside. The stained glass was absolutely breathtaking. I don't think I've ever seen such gorgeous windows. I will have to say that I pitied the people who use the church as a place of worship. There were hordes of tourists coming and going, snapping pictures, clinking money into the money bins to buy candles to light for relatives and other people who need prayers, people whispering to one another, tour guides answering questions. I find that when I'm trying to commune with God, it takes all of my concentration to really tell him about my feelings, my struggles, and my needs. It takes all of my strength to listen for inspiration and guidance about how to meet those challenges. I wondered if I would be able to gain that kind of communion with my Maker if all of the hub-bub that happened in Notre Dame were happening in my own Sunday chapel back home? I don't think I would. My heart went out to them.
After a ham and cheese crepe, and alot of walking, we were back home. We crashed into bed with sore feet, but happy and cheerful thoughts. It had been a good day.
Day three was the day we headed to the market at Rue de Mouffetard. We weren't able to go to the market because of the bank robbery in progress...so, we caught a Batobus (which is one of the many boats that go up and down the River Seine) and rode from Notre Dame to the Eiffel Tower. I got so many good pictures. It was so cool to see the Eiffel Tower rise majestically as we rounded the bend in the river. We got out of the bus at the tower to take pictures in the daylight, hoping to go up the tower around sunset...and hoping that the insane crowds would die down (they didn't). There were lots of people selling miniature Eiffel Towers. Apparently they were illegal immigrants because they started running away when the Police showed up. I almost got killed trying to take a picture of them holding the miniatures (I have dumb moments...just like everyone else). My camera was focused on their hands, not their faces...and Kevin had to save me by taking the camera away. I was a little shaken for the next hour or so...more from my stupidity than anything else. But, I eventually got over it.
We headed to the Arc de Triomphe next. We ran across a VERY busy 6 lane roundabout, not realizing that there was an underground walkway to the Arch. We weren't the only ones who made that mistake. While at the Arch, I realized that the United States is not the only one with an Unnamed Soldier who has fallen in battle. In the center of the arch, an eternal flame burns for France's Unnamed Soldier. I'm sure every country has lost sons and daughters that can't be identified. My heart suddenly swelled for the French people and the sufferings they've felt during war. They became my brothers and my sisters that day.
From the Arch, we travelled down the Champs Elysees, which turned out to be the ritzy area of town. It was full of upscale shops and restaurants and a very interesting person dressed up like Pharoah who stood perfectly still and hoped you would put money in his little basket for standing so still. It was an interesting act. We saw another just down the street at the Place de Concordance where Madame la Guillotine used to stand. Now, a large obelisk and two fountains stand sentinel over the place that used to run with the blood of the noble men and women of France.
After a much needed dinner at the La Ferme de Opera sandwich shop, we headed yet again towards the Batobus to catch a ride to the Eiffel Tower. We decided to hike the first two floors and take the elevator to the top at the second floor. Not only was it cheaper, but again...Kevin and I like to hike (although the knee I hurt in soccer in high school doesn't always appreciate it). We only had to wait for 15 minutes before we were hike, hike, hiking our way to the tallest point in Paris. It turned out to be one of the most humorous events of the trip. It turns out, Kevin is VERY afraid of heights. I didn't know this about him. I've known the man for a decade and did not know that he could not tolerate heights. It was fun to watch him try to catch it all on video tape while trying not to look himself. He'd hang the video camera out over the edge and turn and look the other way. (We haven't watched the video yet...it might be fun to see what he took pictures of). It probably didn't help that the tower was made so that you can see all around you while you're climbing. Kevin would try to get up the stairs as quickly as possible so that he could stand on the platform and look out at the horizon. (When he's looking at the horizon, he's OK...it's when he looks down that it's a problem). The elevator ride to the very top was amusing as well. It was a glass elevator...and scary even for me. Kevin didn't really like that at all! I must say, though...he really pushes himself. He figures his only way to get over it is to make himself do it anyway. He actually looked over the edge more than I did. And, he hung my camera out over the edge to get some cool pics of the Tower from the top down. I was too afraid to do that. I actually couldn't watch him hang the camera over like that. It gave me butterflies. (Kevin's right...I've got my priorities ALL mixed up!) At night, the tower lit up and every hour on the hour, it presented a light show to the world. We were able to get down for the 11pm light show. It was so beautiful!
That night it was difficult to fall asleep. My feet hurt so badly from all of the climbing and walking. I had blisters. I felt like a cripple. But, I awoke the next morning ready for Versailles.
Before we checked out the next morning, we ran quickly down the street from the hotel to Santa Croce. There was another long flight of stairs and I thought I was going to die...but we made it. The cathedral was beautiful. The Parisians call it the "sculpted cloud" and for good reason. Made of sparkling white stone with domed chapels, it very much resembles a cloud. While we were there, a man played all kinds of wonderful music on a harp. Looking over the hazy city, it was a nice touch. We finally bought a few Eiffel Tower trinkets from some of the vendors there, grabbed a baguette sandwich for lunch and headed back to the hotel to check out.
From the hotel, we headed WITH all of our luggage to Versailles. Between the Metro and the train, it took 45 minutes to get there. By the time we got there, we had 2 hours to tour the place. Being the art fanatics that we are, we decided to skip the tour of the inside which probably housed alot more art and "fine" things, and opted instead to rent a golf cart and tour the gardens. It was SO MUCH FUN. Kevin drove us through the maze of shrubbery and trees that once used to be highly manicured gardens. It was fun to catch glimpes of King Louis XIV's palace through the green. The gardens were absolutely massive and it took an hour to drive at a steady pace of 5 mph through all of it. We barely had time to stop and snap pictures along the way. Kevin and I both came to the same conclusion at the end of the tour, however. While Versailles is certainly massive and impressive in it's sheer size, it lacks some character that we've seen in other palaces. Everything, the building facade, the gravel paths, even the sculptures...all blended together in a blinding swirl of white. It was fun to see what the "Sun King" thought was impressive and best displayed his pomp, though. It was a fun end of our Parisian tour.
Now, a couple of weeks down the road from the trip, the things that still stick in my mind are the smell of urine. Yes...it was quite a stench...and you unexpectedly came across the smell in the most random of places. The AMAZING bread. Kevin and I both agree that we will never call it "Italian" bread again...the Italians DON'T know what they're doing with bread...we know that from experience. But the French...ahhh....they DO know how to make some of the best bread in the world. I still crave it, even a few weeks later. I can feel the crispy crust and the lusciously chewy center in my mouth as I write this out...ok Teri...enough!!! How colorful it was. I was in love with their subway stations. I loved the loud colors, the modern chairs and benches. I loved how ecclectic Paris is. I could see myself being right at home as a photographer in Paris. And last, the sidewalk cafes. I couldn't get enough of the charm of sitting outdoors with a nice meal and your "honey" and watching the golden sunset bounce off of ancient buildings. In a word, it was wonderful.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Home
Ok...so I have been so focused on keeping up with my photography blog, that I've totally neglected my family blog (how sad is that???) Anyway...I wanted to write a little of the last month. Kevin has been away from us since the end of March and I was not handling the separation well at all. There have been few, if any, times in my life where I have truly experienced homesickness. I am truly a gypsy at heart. I love new experiences, new places, and new faces. But, probably the combination of being a lone mother of a two year old, living in a foreign country, and just missing Kevin to death brought on a rather crazy case of homesickness. So, we flew to the USA to be with Kevin. And what a fun experience it has been!
I was super worried about flying for 10 hours with a toddler. But, once again, my little master-traveller handled it beautifully. Out of 14 hours of being on the "road" so to speak, we had 5 mintues of bad behavior. I was amazed!!! (Where did this kid come from anyway?) He played with the little toys I brought, his books, ate snacks, played with the earphones the flight attendants gave him and was happy as a clam. He briefly watched the airplane movies, and just chilled in his chair for most of the time. The guy beside us was amazed. You could tell when he sat down that he thought he'd have a rough flight. But, aside from the crumbs that were thrown his way a couple of times, it was a "good flight" according to him.
Our plane was delayed both in London and in Chicago. We ended up getting to Omaha at 9pm (about 4am our time). Kevin waited for several hours for us and it was so good to see him at the airport just reading his book. When we got home, we were so exhausted, we just fell into bed.
It took us a couple of days to recover. But, recover we did! And then the adventure began. The first week, we mostly ate at all of the restaurants I've missed, hung out at the swimming pool and basked in the sunlight, got a suntan, and played board games. For the first time this year, it truly felt like summer. I got a little bit of a sunburn, Weslee always smelled like coconut because of the sunblock we had to smear all over his fair skin. It smelled like barbeque in the air. And the hot, sticky breeze blew all day long. At night there were fireflies and a big bright moon. It was a wierd sensation of feeling like you're finally "home" and knowing all the while that home is thousands of miles away in a whole 'nother country.
The next week brought time with my family. Mom, Dad, Bubba, and his wife Tessa, Charla and my little clan all met at my brother's loft apartment in Kansas City for a weekend sleepover. We shopped at the outdoor market, went to see "Up", strolled through an art fair, and just hung out and talked. Weslee almost got his ankles nipped off by these vicious little dogs at the swimming pool at their apartment complex and he screamed joyfully at them at the top of his lungs. He was so excited to have those little ankle biters circling around him. I don't think he realized the growling was a scary thing. I was feeling a little edgy and overprotective. I'm not a dog person anyway...so I wasn't real wild about the crazy dogs at the pool. Dad made some awesome steaks for us to eat, and Tessa was a gourmet chef and we got to sample her food. I got to take pictures of the different family groups and we got to hear my sister's latest songs she's written. It was so awesome...and hard to say goodbye at the end of the weekend.
One of the coolest parts about going to Kansas City for the weekend was that we got to begin our adoption process. We met at LDS family services to begin the paperwork for another adoption. We're hoping the process isn't too long and tedious. We'd really like our family to grow. So...if you're reading this, and you know of anyone who is considering placing their baby for adoption, please send them our way. We'd love to chat with them.
Two days after returning home from Kansas City, we found ourselves on the road to Denver to be with Kevin's sister, Denise for 4th of July. Knowing that Denver is where we want to settle when we exit the Air Force really made Denver feel like home. We had such a fun time. We cooked out on the barbeque, hung out and talked until late at night, played Guitar Hero on the Wii, played the piano, went to the movies, and all of the nieces and nephews beat up on Kevin. He brings it on himself. It's wierd that Kasen, our oldest nephew in that family, has bulked up to the point where he could seriously contend with Kevin in a wrestling match. The two of them had fun messing around. We had so much fun laughing and joking around. I really miss that family!
And now, we're back at TLF. Weslee and I went to the pool for the last time today. The smell of coconut sunblock is still in the air. I have a photoshoot in less than an hour, my last photoshoot of the trip (I've done 7 in total). My camera battery is charging over by the toaster. My clean laundry is begging to be folded and packed away into the suitcase for the last time. I'm beginning to make to-do lists of things that need to be done when I get home. We'll have our last game night tonight. Finger printing for our adoption process tomorrow morning and our last meeting with our adoption caseworker. By this time tomorrow, Kevin will be alone in this very room.
He won't have to worry about me stealing the covers at night, or Weslee waking up at 3 am thinking it's party time. He won't have to worry about the laundry basket overflowing or cereal pieces all over the floor. There will be no one to contend with for computer time. In short, as Kevin put it, it will be lonely.
I am so glad for this short trip back "home" with Kevin. So glad for the laughs, and the memories, and the sunshine, and the fun we've shared together. It has been the dose of medicine I needed. But Man! It's hard to leave "home" behind...because you see, "home" is always where Kevin is. Where he is is where I belong. So, here is wishing that "home" comes back to England very, VERY soon.
I was super worried about flying for 10 hours with a toddler. But, once again, my little master-traveller handled it beautifully. Out of 14 hours of being on the "road" so to speak, we had 5 mintues of bad behavior. I was amazed!!! (Where did this kid come from anyway?) He played with the little toys I brought, his books, ate snacks, played with the earphones the flight attendants gave him and was happy as a clam. He briefly watched the airplane movies, and just chilled in his chair for most of the time. The guy beside us was amazed. You could tell when he sat down that he thought he'd have a rough flight. But, aside from the crumbs that were thrown his way a couple of times, it was a "good flight" according to him.
Our plane was delayed both in London and in Chicago. We ended up getting to Omaha at 9pm (about 4am our time). Kevin waited for several hours for us and it was so good to see him at the airport just reading his book. When we got home, we were so exhausted, we just fell into bed.
It took us a couple of days to recover. But, recover we did! And then the adventure began. The first week, we mostly ate at all of the restaurants I've missed, hung out at the swimming pool and basked in the sunlight, got a suntan, and played board games. For the first time this year, it truly felt like summer. I got a little bit of a sunburn, Weslee always smelled like coconut because of the sunblock we had to smear all over his fair skin. It smelled like barbeque in the air. And the hot, sticky breeze blew all day long. At night there were fireflies and a big bright moon. It was a wierd sensation of feeling like you're finally "home" and knowing all the while that home is thousands of miles away in a whole 'nother country.
The next week brought time with my family. Mom, Dad, Bubba, and his wife Tessa, Charla and my little clan all met at my brother's loft apartment in Kansas City for a weekend sleepover. We shopped at the outdoor market, went to see "Up", strolled through an art fair, and just hung out and talked. Weslee almost got his ankles nipped off by these vicious little dogs at the swimming pool at their apartment complex and he screamed joyfully at them at the top of his lungs. He was so excited to have those little ankle biters circling around him. I don't think he realized the growling was a scary thing. I was feeling a little edgy and overprotective. I'm not a dog person anyway...so I wasn't real wild about the crazy dogs at the pool. Dad made some awesome steaks for us to eat, and Tessa was a gourmet chef and we got to sample her food. I got to take pictures of the different family groups and we got to hear my sister's latest songs she's written. It was so awesome...and hard to say goodbye at the end of the weekend.
One of the coolest parts about going to Kansas City for the weekend was that we got to begin our adoption process. We met at LDS family services to begin the paperwork for another adoption. We're hoping the process isn't too long and tedious. We'd really like our family to grow. So...if you're reading this, and you know of anyone who is considering placing their baby for adoption, please send them our way. We'd love to chat with them.
Two days after returning home from Kansas City, we found ourselves on the road to Denver to be with Kevin's sister, Denise for 4th of July. Knowing that Denver is where we want to settle when we exit the Air Force really made Denver feel like home. We had such a fun time. We cooked out on the barbeque, hung out and talked until late at night, played Guitar Hero on the Wii, played the piano, went to the movies, and all of the nieces and nephews beat up on Kevin. He brings it on himself. It's wierd that Kasen, our oldest nephew in that family, has bulked up to the point where he could seriously contend with Kevin in a wrestling match. The two of them had fun messing around. We had so much fun laughing and joking around. I really miss that family!
And now, we're back at TLF. Weslee and I went to the pool for the last time today. The smell of coconut sunblock is still in the air. I have a photoshoot in less than an hour, my last photoshoot of the trip (I've done 7 in total). My camera battery is charging over by the toaster. My clean laundry is begging to be folded and packed away into the suitcase for the last time. I'm beginning to make to-do lists of things that need to be done when I get home. We'll have our last game night tonight. Finger printing for our adoption process tomorrow morning and our last meeting with our adoption caseworker. By this time tomorrow, Kevin will be alone in this very room.
He won't have to worry about me stealing the covers at night, or Weslee waking up at 3 am thinking it's party time. He won't have to worry about the laundry basket overflowing or cereal pieces all over the floor. There will be no one to contend with for computer time. In short, as Kevin put it, it will be lonely.
I am so glad for this short trip back "home" with Kevin. So glad for the laughs, and the memories, and the sunshine, and the fun we've shared together. It has been the dose of medicine I needed. But Man! It's hard to leave "home" behind...because you see, "home" is always where Kevin is. Where he is is where I belong. So, here is wishing that "home" comes back to England very, VERY soon.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
P.Y.O. Isleham
So, we kept seeing these signs around town with a big strawberry on them. They said P.Y.O. Isleham. We asked around and found out that (duh!) it was a "Pick Your Own" Strawberry place. So, today we hopped in the car for a fun berry adventure. It wasn't really planned. In fact, I thought of it while I was showering this morning. I threw some clothes on, changed Weslee and we headed out the door before my hair had even dried.We picked about 4 kilos (and no...I don't really know how much that is) of strawberries and spent the rest of the morning hulling and slicing them to make jam tomorrow (and to eat for the rest of the day). There is nothing more tasty than fresh picked strawberries. The store bought ones don't even compare!
Today while picking berries, I had all kinds of flash backs of working with my grandma in her garden and helping her pick blackberries. She's always telling a story about me picking blackberries and eating way more than I picked. They would tell me to "just pick the black ones" and to eat only "one at a time". Today, I found myself saying almost those very words. "Wes, just pick the red ones". "Eat that strawberry you've got in your hand before you pick another one". I have so many memories of watching Gram make jelly and jam and I realized today, that my son will have similar memories of me, endlessly stirring behind a very hot stove of wonderful fruit...and then eating it later on hot toast with butter.
I also have to say, I love his little dirty cherub face in these pictures too. Not only is he covered in sticky strawberry juice and dirt...but snot as well. England has been tough on this poor kid. I'm pretty sure he has some crazy allergies! Everything flowers like crazy here...and pollen is so thick in the air, it settles in a yellow dust on your car overnight. His nose is always running and he is forever sneezing. My little angel with a dirty face!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Oatmeal
So, my mom just left from a fabulous visit. Well, it was fabulous for me, and she SWEARS it was fabulous for her...but she was sick the whole time. Throughout the night I could hear her coughing. I thought FOR SURE she'd lose a lung. But, she's back home safely in the USA with both of her lungs. Whew! (That was close).Anyway, the very first thing she did when she got off the plane, after kissing Weslee mercilessly was hand him a hand-crafted, homemade-with-love little bunny that my sister in law made for him. Mom and I thought he should have a British name since we are having this fabulous UK adventure for the next few years. We called him "King Henry". We called him that for approximately 12 hours. But, Wes had his own ideas for this bunny's name. He named him "Oatmeal".
It's an appropriate name. He looks like oatmeal. Weslee likes oatmeal. So, it's a compliment to the bunny. Anyway, he loves sleeping with Oatmeal now along with "Sheepie" (his partner in crime and his best comforter) and Port-a-Peep, the smaller, more portable version of Sheepie.
Anyway, this is a shout out to Tessa, my very gifted Sister in Law. Thank you, thank you for the cute bunny. And to all of you who don't know Tessa, she makes the most awesome vintage stuff. Check her out at http://www.tessamariearanda.com/.
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