Sixty Steps in the Turret

The Beauty of Unfinished Business

Unfinished business would not generally be considered to be a good thing. Sometime during our last few weeks in France, however, I latched onto the idea that perhaps it was ok. 

During our six days south, the leaves in Burgundy seemed to burst with color.  The first day back, I unpacked instead of capturing the beauty in photos.  The very next day, the cold rain pounded and the north winds blew.  I missed my chance.

I had planned to take pictures in each neighboring village. Didn't get it done.  I wanted to stock up on my favorite French products.  Got a few, but not all. 

We had places to go and people to see. Invitations given that were left unfulfilled.  

The "girls" and I had spent so much time in the pasture behind the chateau that it was as familiar as our own backyard. Throughout the fall, the extra apples went to the horses who lived in back. Once wild and stand-offish, they now ate from my hand and allowed me to comb burrs from their manes. It was silly to think they'd miss me as much as I'd miss them.  

When Nicole asked if we would mind a little going-away luncheon, given by our new friends, I was honored.  I made a special request ...not too much wine (We had to drive to Paris that afternoon) and no tears.

Everything pointed to the same thing...we were not done here.  We DO have unfinished business.  I couldn't imagine never seeing our friends again.  I couldn't allow myself to think that I wouldn't be back. It wasn't good-bye, just farewell  for now.  

I folded my everyday shirts, shorts, a few odds and ends and placed them on the top shelf of the armoire, next to our room.  I combed the pony, one last time and then put Mark's old brush right next to the fence post.  It will be covered with grass, but I'll find it.

None of our good-byes were the long-teary sort. It just wasn't needed because we'll be back...we have things to do and people to see.

If we'd done it all or not met these friends, it would all be different.  So, as strange as it sounds, I am truly grateful for the unfinished business and  for those heartstrings that will keep tugging until we return to this other place that we call home.  

 

See the people that we miss...photo album: Saying Farewell

Views from the......."South" of France

It's a damp day here in Burgundy, so it's a perfect time to think about our trip last week to the warm, sunny French Riviera.  

There is beauty everywhere you look and the views are just amazing.  I have to tell you though, we were a bit surprised when the view from our first hotel in Nice seemed to be, shall we say...the "Derriere of France ! "

 Now a fine derriere it was, but we still opted to change hotels and go with the view of the bright, blue sea. 

 With a scant two weeks left in France, we tried to enjoy every minute...and honestly, what's not to enjoy?  

Nice, Monaco, Cannes and St. Tropez.  A coastal highway that looks like a dream. Outdoor cafes and room service. Wine, champagne and wonderful food. Nutella ice cream two days in a row. Shopping, relaxing and walking by the sea. Opening the doors to hear waves all night and taking in the views that I'll remember forever. 

The South of France just might be that special place that I'll go in my mind when it's cold, windy, snowy and dark.  And if I ever need a little chuckle, I'll just remember that derriere.

Check out the views that we enjoyed in the photo album "Our Trip to the South of France." 

Time to Sort This Out

The top drawer holds it all...copper pennies, silver quarters and euros of every kind. It's time to separate the two, put one back on top and the other one away. Sort it all out and turn the page. 

We're back at the Chateau from the trip that was our "One Last Hurrah"...a drive through Provence and days relaxing by the sea.  A little glimpse of heaven in the south of France.  

Now comes the dirty work.  It's time to get busy, to sort this all out, which is a job that is not only physical but emotional, too.  

  There are heavy strings pulling us home...a new grandson that we can't wait to hold, our grown children that we've missed so much. 

So it begins...the task of putting all the pieces together to end this journey.

I can't help but wonder how long it will be until we return, to see our new family of friends, the hills of Burgundy and this wonderful, old place that strangely, somehow also feels like our home.   

Keep a Few Sheep Between You and the Dog

...and bring a stick.

I wasn't kidding when I said that I learn something new every single day.  Today, this is what I learned...

No matter how crazy my mornings could be at home, nothing will be like this.  I'm sure that if I caught sheep escaping their pasture and had to chase them out of my yard every day, I wouldn't be amused. But today, even though my feet are still cold from wearing little, dressy flats in the wet dew, I know absolutely, positively that nothing like this will happen to me at home, and that's why it's all so fun.  

I also learned that things aren't always as them seem and it's a good idea to be careful.

That pretty, cream-colored dog looks like he wants to play fetch or maybe take a nap on the couch. THAT would be a big mistake!  He LIVES in a field with sheep. They are his friends, not me.  That's why I followed Nicole's advice when she said..."Keep a few sheep between you and the dog!" 

I think that's great advice, I may even use it at home. If I'm, say...at the mall or in a big parking lot and I see someone acting kind of shady, I think I'll remember this and  just keep a few people between us.

  I may even bring a stick...or if I can't find one, I'll just use a big umbrella, like I did today. 

Gosh, I'm going to miss this place.  

Where the Heck Are We? Paris,Texas ?

Good guess, but non! This little hootenanny was right here in Burgundy this past Saturday night, in honor of our friend Marjo's birthday. 

 Around here, I learn something new every day.  It seems that the French are quite fond of Country Line Dancing. These faux-Americans were great fun !  They provided the entertainment and then the lessons...and over here, THIS IS HOW WE DO IT...

Un, deux, trois, quatre, un, deux, trois, quatre.

(to the) droit, (to the) gauche, un, deux, trois, quatre ! 

We drink wine instead of beer and there wasn't a peanut shell to be found.  The whole night was fun, fun, fun and I think I'd pick this place and these people over any Roadhouse in Texas ! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On American Soil

I remain in France, but today, I walked on American soil.  

Today, I learned that I can love France and all that it has come to mean to me, but in my heart I am and will always be an American.

Today, we went to the American Military Cemetery in Epinal.

This bucolic site is the final resting place of  thousands of American men who were killed in battle and buried here during World War II.

 The first glance was overwhelming. White crosses and Stars of David stretch in perfect rows, in numbers too large to count.  I expected emotion, but this was something new... lump in throat and tears in eyes. A strange mix of sorrow and pride. 

Row after row I read names and the State they were from. Some were from places that I knew well. Places that I had called home.  

Charles W. Fleming, Robert L. Finley. John D. Kelly...  

I didn't know THEM, but I knew their names.  They were solid American names, like the names of men from my hometown.  Each of these men had a life, dreams and a story that was cut short by circumstances beyond his control.  

What, I wondered, would our story be if not for these men? 

The inscription on their memorial reads; " Men of Every Calling Bred on the Principles of American Democracy". 

 Today, on this sacred ground, I remembered what that means.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

American Cemeteries Abroad:  www.abmc.gov