Teachable Moments

Sometimes life is difficult...

And there are moments when you're going to get really upset...

And you might even cry...

When people don't understand you...

And your sense of security and comfort are gone...

Hold on, because it is temporary. And it will pass...

You will again feel safe...

And you will again feel loved...

I was trying to give this little pep talk to Zachary today as he fell apart during the fifty minutes of life without his blanket by his side. (It was beyond filthy). And as I was stumbling through a difficult day myself, I realized I maybe should listen to my own advice.

Thankfully, my security isn't found in a blue, smelly blanket...it's found in a sovereign, personal God...who loves me. And at the end of the day, when my little world seems totally overwhelming, I can go to bed knowing that He holds me closer than my son will hold his clean blanket tonight.

Someday, I will tell Zachary all of this...but for now, he can think the world revolves around a currently-not-quite-so-smelly, blue blanket.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus-The January Version

It's like Christmas...only nothing is wrapped in red and green paper. And I think I might be a little more excited about these gifts!

Santa (Phil) arrived home a couple of minutes ago...driving his sleigh, a tiny European rental car stuffed to the brim with "AMERICAN" stuff.

Phil went to Ramstein, Germany--the largest US base/community outside The United States. He went for a couple of medical appointments, just routine flight physical stuff, and some good-old-fashion-American-capitalism-priced products!

This trip of his was planned for awhile, so we had been keeping a running list of items to buy, which was posted on our kitchen cabinet. As random things would come to mind (like corn syrup), I would be sure to write them down. The morning Phil left, I even took time to prioritize the list with stars and numbers. Like I mentioned before in a previous post...I need to get a life!

But was a big deal trip because the closest American base to us is seven hours away (in Italy, actually). So I knew I needed to be thorough with my American-type grocery/home necessities of the moment and anticipate needs for the near future.

The drive took him nine hours. He said he paid the equivalent of sixty dollars in tolls and one hundred dollars for diesel (thank you rental car) each way. He was gone for three days. It was quick and productive!

So what does an American living in France need to drive all that distance and pay all that money for???

Here you go...

1. TV---we didn't bring ours from the US because we knew it wouldn't work. And we have had a small hand-me-down, but this was our big ticket item we were anxious to buy in Germany. Why Germany? Well because electronic goods are just laughably expensive in France and the technology wouldn't transfer to America when we were ready to leave and move it with us. The TV Phil bought in Germany will work in Europe and in the US.

2. A microwave--see above explanation on electronics's pricing in France. This is not an exaggeration...the microwaves in the stores here go for 200 Euros (like $350.00)! Are you kidding me?

3. Towels--towels from the huge grocery store (the French equivalent of a WalMart-minus the low prices) are 20 Euro ($35) each. Again, I was happy to wait a month for some more towels at American prices. Phil paid $7.99--US Dollars--thank you Martha Stewart!

4. Children's Tylenol and Motrin-- you can't buy them at the Pharmacy or any store...you to have a prescription for them from a doctor. Be warned America about "universal" health care!

5. Tupperware and Ziplock baggies--I think there must be an extra tax on all things that have anything to do with plastic. One would think you were putting leftovers into little pots of gold at the prices they want for plastic storage stuff. But I guess leftovers are a very American concept. No doggie bags at restaurants here!

6. Running shoes--again because of pricing in France and limited number of brands available! I'm a Brooks girl, always have been.

7. Outdoor grill

8. And then just random (very random) grocery items. Pancake mix, Diet Coke (because Coca cola lite just isn't the same for purists like us), Cheezits, black beans, yellow corn meal, peanut butter, green chilies, corn syrup. I have not found substitutes for these things as of yet in France--and I'm not quite willing to give them up!

Phil has some funny stories from the Commissary/Exchange (the military owned grocery store/department store). He told me it was so American, that the people who bag your groceries for tips at the Commissary are Asians. Which is funny because at every base in the US we've been at--Jacksonville, Monterey, Pensacola- they've been Asian too. There was a Chili's and Macaroni Grill and Burger King and other American eateries. There were multiple radio stations in English giving weather reports and playing American music. Oh yeah, and everyone there was speaking English!

Staff at the base repeatedly said to Phil, "Oh, I didn't know we had a base in France." To which, he would reply, "We don't. I'm the ONLY American on the French Air Base." Shock and horror would be visible on their faces. Yeah, that's right...you have it pretty easy here in "mini America".

But we have the Mediterranean, the sunshine, the French-vacation-mindset...so I'll eat my American black beans and corn bread here inside my house...my "mini America", in the south of France.

Happy Birthday, My Love

Today is Phil's birthday. We celebrated yesterday, because today he is driving to Germany to take care of some business at the big US base there. By celebrated I mean, I made a cake and we all sang "Happy Birthday" together to him. Phil isn't a big birthday person. He doesn't need or request a big hoopla to be made over him (I on the other hand, demand attention, gifts, dinners out...for a week!)

Which is why I love him so. To say that I've been on an emotional roller coaster for the past six months is like describing a mouth full of chocolate, smarties, and lollipops as sweet....if you ate all those candies together it would be sickeningly sweet...and I've been sickeningly emotional. Up and down...sometimes happy, but mostly stressed out and edgy...and he is solid and calm through it all.

So as he turns twenty-nine today, you should know, he is mature beyond his years. And he is patient and loving far beyond the limits of most normal husbands.

The fact that I've known him since he was twelve makes me think the image of him in my mind will ALWAYS remain youthful, no matter what birthday we're celebrating--but that's probably too poetic. The reality is, people always ask how old he is and are stunned by the answer...he just looks so young and handsome!

Happy birthday, Phil. I love you tons--and so does Zachary despite his sour faces in these pictures. I don't what his problem was!

Stocking up on Stock

Let me tell you about my latest obsession. Brace yourself. This is super exciting. I am obsessed with making the perfect broth. As in chicken broth, beef broth. You know the kinds of liquids you buy in a can from the grocery store in American for like a dollar.

Do I need to get a life? Yes, most definitely. But for the moment, it's a cheap and very useful form of entertainment. And despite notions of how eternally sunny the French Riviera is, we've had quite a spell of cold, rainy weather. (I've been told this is the rainy season, so the weather isn't all that unexpected, but I've also heard this year is far worse than "normal"). So this perfect, wholesome, broth becomes the base for my constant cravings for soup.

While in the US I always had a couple boxes/cans of chicken broth on hand in my pantry, because there are so many recipes that call for it. I knew the homemade stuff would taste better, but who has time for all of that production. Here in France, they do not sell liquid chicken or beef broth. The best I can find are bullion cubes. And I don't really have a life, so I began

making batches and batches of broth myself, and now I have an entire freezer full.

I've been consulting multiple cookbooks for my concoctions. Most notably the Julia Child "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" cookbook. I find the cookbook exceptionally helpful because with her recipes in English (with a lot of French vocabulary thrown in) I can understand some French techniques and attempt to make dishes (or just know what ingredients are in the dishes) that I see on the restaurant menus here. Julia also explains the French cuts of meat -which helps me so much at the grocery store. ***Side note--I know there is a movie dedicated to the topic of cooking when lonely...no, I haven't seen it...but from what I've heard, I can relate to both character's lives in multiple ways!***

Most of my homemade broth ends up becoming some sort of soup. And most of my soups are

orange and involve lots of butternut squash (although the orange squash here tastes a little different) and carrots. How healthy and wholesome !****another side note...How does a girl go from living in Jacksonville, eating fast food for lunch four times a week to eating homemade vegetable soup everyday for lunch??? She moves to France and there where Wendy's doesn't exist, and fast food is not at all convenient!***

My broth has also inspired me to try recipes like Beef Bourguignon. My homemade beef stock, along with a good bottle of French Red wine yielded fantastic results--if I do say so myself.

Actually, I got rave reviews from Phil, Lily and Zachary (who ate his weight in soft, melt-in-

your-mouth pieces of beef).

And can a rainy lunch really get any better than a big bowl of soup with a piece of fresh, warm baguette? No, not here in France it can't. I think I'll have some cheese for dessert!

Won't You Be My Neighbor

My sister-in-law, Kristina, who is fluent in French and spent a summer living in France while in college, recommended a book to me that has been an invaluable resource. I started reading the book while in California, but now that we're living here, I feel like I've been studying it, not just reading it. The book is "Cultural Misunderstanding-The French-American Experience", written by Raymonde Carroll. The first chapter of the book is entitled, "Home", and it explains some of the differences between Americans and French concerning "access" to a home.

I guess I'm writing about this today because my Mom keeps asking me if I've met any of the neighbors, or seen any other kids in the neighborhood. Ummmmm, no, I have not...and from what I've seen so far, that sort of thing doesn't happen here.

Ok, back to the book...the author is French, but living in America with her American husband (I think). Here is just a small snip it from the book. "And when I stroll around my neighborhood in the evening, I am still somewhat surprised at being able to see right into each home....they are apparently not the least bit bothered by the possibility of a stranger's eyes peering into their lives...backyards and gardens blend into each other in certain small American cities...across which neighbors exchange produce from their gardens or simply chat...We can therefore understand an American's surprise when faced with the walls, gates, shutters, and drawn curtains that "protect" French houses."

So that's us...we live behind a four foot wall with an eight foot hedge that runs around the entire perimeter of the house. We have a huge gate that must open before you get onto the property. We have shutters to open and close on every window as we wish...we don't have curtains, but that's only because we've just moved and I'm still working on decorating.

And I don't think the gates, and walls, and hedges are necessarily for security. Crime isn't the issue they are guarding against. The issue is privacy. The French are so very private when it comes to their personal lives. What's public is public, but what's personal is none of your business. So they layer up the privacy (kinda like they layer all their clothes) in forms of gates and walls and shutters and curtains.

So yeah, it is a huge cultural difference. And I would say that we even sorta live in a neighborhood--at least the French call the area Petit Bois. But in this neighborhood, there are no lawn chairs on the lawns while the kids all play in the streets. There are no neighborly waves or hellos as you get the mail or take in the trash cans. All of the houses on our street are behind gates and walls. We were offered no "welcome basket" of cookies or homemade bread. I have no idea if there are kids living around us. We have not said hello to a single neighbor.

In fact, the neighbor on one side of our house started threading Christmas greenery through the metal fencing one week after we moved in. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't doing it for last minute Christmas decorating. Because it is still up. He covered a portion of the fence where the hedge wasn't growing as densely...and without it, we could have seen in part of his house. So he slapped up another layer of privacy...the American in me wanted to cry as I watched him do it...I kept thinking, "Wow, he already hates us." "I guess they don't like all the kid's noise." "Have we already offended him?" But I keep trying to remind myself that it is just a huge difference in perspective.

Here are some pictures so you can get a visual on what I'm talking about. Truly, I'm struggling with this a lot. I feel claustrophobic--I can't see the street from my house. I feel very isolated---a huge gate closes behind me when I come home. I feel very unfriendly---there is never a chance to chat with a neighbor.


Here is the massive and very slow moving gate to get into our house...we have to wait a couple of minutes for it to open all the way before driving through...it moves at a very French pace. Anyone who wants to "knock on our door" has to push the little call buttons on the right in the picture...a phone rings in our house and then I can open the gate to let the visitor inside.


A picture of the walls and hedges around our house...our house is on the right and our neighbors house is on the left.



More walls and hedges on the other side of our house--our house is on the left.

A picture of the shutters...in the morning we open all the shutters on the ground floor, but I usually keep the upstairs shutters closed to help keep the heat upstairs. The point is, this is a daily occurrence. At night we shut them...for another layer of privacy (and insulation)...and in the morning we open them.



Here is a close up picture of my neighbors make shift hedge/keep-the-Hoblets-out-of-my- business. Every time I look at this, I have to give myself a pep talk so my feelings don't get hurt.


A picture from our porch where you can see the "greenery" so we don't sit there and stare into his kitchen, I guess--.


Is this a cultural misunderstanding? It could be, for sure. It's very different from where I grew up and what I'm used to... playing in our neighbors yard with neighborhood kids while my Mom could watch me from inside our house. It's not a "could I borrow a cup of sugar and an egg" kind of arrangement. And I don't at all feel any sense of community. But maybe I'll get used to it. And maybe when we move back to the States I'll say like the author of the book, "My goodness, you live in the street!"

Phil's New Set of Wheels

Phil is making a huge effort to save us money and make our one-car-family a doable reality here in France. He is so dedicated to this effort he is willing to wear spandex in order to make it happen. He calls his new wardrobe a "necessary evil".

Instead of buying a second car, Phil bought a new road bike and long tights with butt padding. His commute is thirteen miles each way to and from work.

There is one major hill climb on the route which follows a coastal highway (with a bike path) along the Mediterranean. The biggest obstacle he will face is the wind. It is not uncommon for there to be gusts above thirty miles an hour. Today is his second day of riding, and he says it takes him forty-five minutes to get there each way. I don't know how long this commitment to exercise or thriftiness is going to last, but I'm already impressed by him. At the moment he seems to enjoy pretending to be Lance Armstrong riding in France.

If he gets hot and sweaty on his ride, he does have showers at work...he tells me they are nicer than any showers he has seen at US bases...in fact the showers at his work are nicer than our one tiny shower we have in our house--and he said there is ALWAYS hot water (which is an issue we're struggling with at our house). Especially now, he will enjoy those hot showers, because when he leaves the house it's a chilly forty degrees outside.

If you want to see pictures of Phil in spandex on the internet, look quickly...because when he arrives home from work and sees that I've posted these, he'll most likely make me take it down.

Here he is...this is his test ride after buying the bike...this is not a leaving for work shot...poor thing, when he leaves for work, it's cold and dark outside!

Zachary is interested, to the point of injuring himself, in anything with wheels.

You look good, Phil. Thanks for being willing to ride to work, so I can have the car for the day. You are so good to me.

Ecole Maternelle

Today is a day I've been worrying about and praying about for the last couple of weeks. Today, Lily had her first day of school. She joined a French classroom full of French kids with a French teacher speaking French...all the time. Today she gives up her time at home with me, and an afternoon nap, for six hours at school.

Lily is very social, and she is pretty independent. So, as we've been talking about this day in order to prepare her, she's been nothing but excited about it. In fact, she even says, "Its going to be a little hard at first...but I'll just pay attention to what the other kids are doing, and in a couple of days, it will be fine."

The drop off this morning went pretty smoothly. I was worried I didn't have all the paperwork necessary, but the teacher didn't pay any attention to the forms I had. So that was good. Lily had a little bit of a cry and clinginess about her as I tried to leave. But the teacher swooped in and intervened with perfect timing showing Lily her new seat at the table and giving her something to color. I tried to wave goodbye to her from outside the window, but she was already too busy to notice me.

I picked her up at 11:20 for lunch. One of my biggest worries was that she wouldn't want to go back to school after being home for lunch. So while I was buying clementines at the tiny corner grocery before picking her up, I splurged on a can of whip cream (see, the French aren't THAT sophisticated...but I must admit I was surprised to find it) to use as a bribery tool. But as soon as I saw her, I knew I wouldn't have to bribe her with it--I could just reward her with it.

Lily excitedly ran to me and talked my ear off for the long walk home. She told me about the picture she colored for me. She told me there was a very nice girl "with pig tails, you know, like I wear," who talked to her and played with her on the playground. She told me the teacher read a story about a fox. She was very up beat and happy. Whew!

I made her her favorite lunch...the blue box...macaroni and cheese (thank you Aunt Tina and Gracie). And I told her she could have ice cream too...with whip cream. She kept saying it was a special day for her.

As we walked back to the school, I told her when I picked her up at 4:20 this afternoon, we could have a pastry from the bakery we'd pass on the way home. (Wow, food is a such a motivator in my parenting style...maybe I should watch that???) Back at the school, she ran right to her teacher who gave her a bit of a hug and kiss on the cheek (a huge show of affection from a French person!!!), and I knew she was in good hands. She waved goodbye to me, and this time, I was the one who had to choke back the tears.

I've been praising the Lord all morning for how smoothly everything has gone today...thank you for those of you who have been praying for us.

Funny tidbits that really happened today that reinforce a lot of French stereotypes:

1. While waiting this morning with all the other parents and children for the school to open the gates so the kids could go in, I was amazed, amazed, at the number of parents smoking! It was sort of like parent social hour...but in order to be in the cool club, you had to have a cigarette in your mouth!

2. The school is supposed to open at 8:20--someone came to open the gates at 8:35ish...typical!

3. Zachary went along in the stroller this morning. He had his beloved blanket with him (of course). And without me realizing it, it started dragging along the sidewalk. This happens a lot and I didn't think much about it, except for today because it dragged right through a huge pile of French dog poop...which is EVERYWHERE on the sidewalks. He screamed for nearly an hour while it went through the washing machine.

4. And the number of calories Lily is eating in all these "treats" is being accounted for because the walk to school from our house is just a little shy of one mile. And she will make that walk four times a day...I will make it eight times a day..hey, maybe I'll get a pain au chocolat with her this afternoon!

Hello, Hello

Best news of the week....we now have our home internet, phone and cable successfully set up. This marks the end of two weeks of impatiently waiting for this luxury. We signed up for the service the day after moving into our house on December 16th. In what we are coming to understand as typical French customer service, we were told we would receive our "equipment box" in ten to twenty-one days. Excuse me??? Yep, that's the best they could do. I'm pretty sure Comcast people arrive within a day of signing up for a new service, but that's in the land of twenty-four-seven Walmart. And, (sigh), we're a long way away from there!

Anyway, after only a two week wait, our magical cable box arrived. Excitedly, we torn into the package thinking everything would work smoothly and we would be up and running within minutes. But at this point, we should know better. Nothing worked like it should.

Our very helpful French friends came over to see if they could assist us in figuring it out. But when they couldn't get it to work either, they assisted even more by making the call to the customer service department. The next day two technicians arrived from "Free" and were able to hook us up (literally). The problem had something to do with the new electrical system in the house. They got everything to work, but told us it would take an additional twenty-four hours for the WiFi signal to be up and running....whatever...what is one more day at this point. It's almost comical.

With our high speed (but still Ethernet-cord-confined) internet, I'm now able to look at Christmas pictures from family and friends without having thirty extra minutes on my hands for the pictures to load up. Our Skype connection should be more fluent without as many interruptions. And just in time for the Rose Bowl (whew), our Slingbox should provide a much more clear and consistent view of the Buckeyes as they beat Oregon tonight.

But I'm most excited about finally being able to have Vonage up and running. We are able to make and receive calls from the US with our local "614" number. If you have my cell phone number (which I've had since my freshman year in college) you can now call us---and it will be like a regular call from within the US. No extra charges!

Oh, the beauty of being able to talk to my beloved sisters/best friends with a good connection, and no running tally of charges in the corner of the screen rushing my conversations. And my Mom will finally have the number she has been waiting for...a number she can call us on.

We didn't bring out TV from the States...it wouldn't work here. So for the moment we have this hand-me-down TV from Elise. Phil is going to pick up a new European TV when he makes a trek to the US base in Germany for a flight physical in a couple of weeks. They will be cheaper there. In the meantime, Lily can work on her French language acquisition via cartoons on this little tube.

Just another milestone in our journey of feeling settled and "at home" in our new life.



And give us a call...we'd love, love, love to hear from you! Just keep in mind we're six hours ahead of EST.