London of my dreams....it's there.

Quote from Helene Hanff in "84 Charing Cross Road": "(a friend) says tourists go to England with preconceived notions, so they always find what they are looking for. I told him I would go looking for the England (London)of English literature, and he said, 'Then it is there'"

(Thames River, Houses of Parliament and Big Ben)

Well someone who gets to the meat of the story would start at day one...not me. I just have to reflect on the decisions that led to our wonderful surprise London/Dublin trip. Last May 2009 when we were brainstorming vacation possibilities, nothing major in mind, and finding that my mother-in-law was interested in joining us, I dabbled on-line for the possibilities of stateside and international travel for our family of six. And yes, I must confess to my bloggy buddies: My name in Jenny N. and I am a travel planning junkie. I thoroughly enjoy finding the best deals, insider tips, and smoothing out Point A to Point B details. Well, very quickly I discovered that a traveling family of 6 was a pricey enterprise. And as I was just about to give up the whole idea when inspiration struck, and I found a fantastic airline deal. Dallas (with two connecting flights) to Dublin, where we would change the airline then on to London for less than it would cost us to fly Dallas to St. Louis, MO!

I ran the idea past by family and after a pause of surprise there was a definite "Yes!" My mother-in-law (MIL, Lou) had never traveled abroad and was tickled by the God blessed turn in plans. But yikes, my travel planning challenge was to get our itinerary and bookings made before our August travel window.
OUR ITINERARY: Leave for London Aug. 10th with three connecting flights arrive in London(Aug 11-14), then to Dublin (Aug 15-18) Home on the 18th. Whew. Cheaper flights mean connections are one thing: BRUTAL! But I knew my family had dealt with worse the year before, so it was important to emphasize to my dear MIL that our version of budget travel was not pampering in any way. We lugged our own luggage, traveled with the bare minimum (clothing and toiletry wise), walked a lot, and learned local public transportation. She understood....at first. So our very groggy, jet lagged arrival to London a day after we left Dallas was an eye opener for Lou, but expected...uh, somewhat. Trip Advisor was an invaluable resource along with my trusty Rick Steves, and on TA I found nice recommendations for a car shuttle service by a man named Ray Skinner. I had communicated with him via email and even a phone call (I was delighted to hear his chipper Cockney accent) and easily made our reservation and got another great deal compared to the possible costs of train and cab to our London address. We were so comforted by the sight of him standing at the exit from baggage to the transport terminal that I was tempted to run up and hug him. Just like in movies, he held up his hand scrawled sign with our name and gave us a hearty welcome to London. The ride in was about 45 minutes and he was chatty and friendly but I think if you asked everyone, we would agree that we were pretty zoned out. Once we arrived in London proper I had to pinch myself. The architecture, the pubs, the crowds of people walking around, the red double decker buses, and black cabs rushing about....it IS the picture of London from books and movies.
Then we arrived very easily at our apartment...excuse me, our FLAT. And if I wanted to I could write an entire complain-y post about the first flat we attempted to book...they cancelled on us because of all my question asking, two weeks before the trip. And I lost it (mentally speaking), then I prayed that somehow, somewhere our last minute booking would help out some apt. owner as much as us and the Lord graciously provided within a 24 hour period. The owner was understanding and helpful and the flat...oh, me oh, my, a first instance for me of our entire group having their breath taken away. See for yourself: Our view outside this living room balcony was the picture at the top of the post. The flat was on Albert Embankment and only a ten minute walk to Westminster Abbey. THE THAMES RIVER was actually right out our windows. Big Ben! Houses of Parliament! Thank you very much Mr. Sarab Monib for your fantastic flat. Okay here is another pic and then I will try to stop gushing.

We picked rooms and beds, unpacked and refreshed ourselves a bit and then hit the street to our nearest Tube stop: Vauxhall to ride to dinner. Ride what you say? The London Underground (Tube) of course. Now at this juncture it must be said that once again our crew was great on the go. I mean it can be an ordeal anywhere to travel with kids, toddler included, and all the gear (sippee, snacks, diapers, wipes, extra clothes, stroller, and incidentals for our day-long outings away from our flat) anywhere, but in a big, busy, bustling city like London in August and moment to moment unknowns, we charged ahead. And the girls even confessed to me later that getting from place to place and especially riding the Tube, were some of their most favorite times during our trip. Who knew?

But Lou, it must be said, had some trouble with the hustle/bustle. See, three days before our trip, she sprained her ankle. Yikes. She is always an"on the go" person and had looked forward to all our planned walking about Londontown (and I mean a lot of walking), but now walking was not as enjoyable. So the first evening's hoped for walk around Buck House (Buckingham Palace nick name) was crossed off and we headed straight for some traditional eats of good ol' Fish'n'Chips. We went to Seafresh near Victoria Station in central London.

It was declared "delish" by all and I liked that even though WE were tourists, we seemed to be surrounded by locals (the lovely English lilt all around) on that Tuesday evening.

See these "horseys" with Sophia...they proved to be her invaluable travel companions. At every stop they entertained her...Thank you Lord. Lou called them the trip savers. The few months leading up to the trip Sophia had amassed a hefty collection and hand-picked these nine for our exciting trip to London. And they made it home as a complete set through all the flights, stops and restaurants. She was constantly the mother "horsey" making sure each one was stowed in her pack.

After our satisfying meal, I remember that I yearned to go walking near to Buck House. But, my family was in varying degrees of falling over from lack of sleep. So odd. Normally I am the one wanting for energy. Yet, much like our trip before, my boost comes from the fact that there is so much to discover and so little time. Needless to say, we headed back to our flat by bus. David was the adventuresome one in this instance, as I was not familiar with the colored coded routes and stops. Yes, it was the double decker red bus variety and a treat. As is with our family, a nibble of something sweet and a warm drink (coffee for grown ups, tea for the young set) was necessary before we all tucked into our pleasantly comfortable beds.

I was the last for bed and noticed the one draw back to our flat was the constant din of traffic that flowed all through the night. No double paned windows it appeared....and yet.... every night we slept soundly after our long days. On this first night I worried about the noise keeping everyone restless through their needed sleep. Yet, I fell asleep to the sounds of the traffic, the river, the awe of being in the midst of London, the lovely night breeze and the slight night glow of the city that was full of life and ready for us. Ahhh.

What's next...some blog love.

London here I come. No, not at any moment soon, but me writing about it is next on deck. Right now though I have hoped each day to blog about our day to day, my favorite blogs, and some random thoughts. You know. The stuff that bloggin' is about.

Last January through April was a little hard on me. Just to share a bit, after a year of some post-baby, strange symptoms: lots of odd/random skin discoloration, random finger and toe numbness, bothersome pattern like rashes, I checked in with my family doctor (yes I had put it off for a long while) and she and some tests revealed that I have Lupus. I "exactly" have "unclassified autoimmune disorder" with symptoms of lupus/schleroderma. Lupus attacks different organs and mine attacks the skin. I feel fine, if I exercised and ate better I am sure I would feel great. There are so many out there with living with lupus that deal with so much more, so this is not me complaining.

Last January to February the pain in my fingers and hands was at its worst and what kept me on edge each day was the fact that over the holidays of '08 I had a finger wound that grew from the size of a pin head to a mushy, pink open wound the size of an eraser head. My left hand was constantly bandaged and from January to June of '09. I almost never ran my hand under water as the special bandages and the wound would not respond well to water. I am thankfully, a stay at home mom, and at the time Sophia was two and changing her diapers was always a slow process because of my wound, bandages, and general wiggling and mess. Suffice to say I was hypersensitive about my hands and stayed at home nearly all the time. My family probably never noticed a difference in my attitude because they buoyed me up during this time of self imposed home bound-ness. The Lord truly taught me so much about those that must live with chronic issues (as I said I have always "felt fine" outside of the hand issues).

Another blessing during this time was the blog world. Seems a bit odd to type it, but I know this to be true. I discovered blogs in areas of interest, i.e. travel, homemaking, faith, and family, and found daily encouragement. A number of my most favorite blogs are penned by women of faith and wonderful insight. It seemed that even across miles, while I was at home just with Sophia, and not at my best, the Lord led me to some of the best company. And for that I thank each of the dear women (whether they know it or not) for all they have shared. And the bonus of it all is that so many of my dear blog buddies are able answer comments and it is a way to be "pen pals" in the 21st century. Those of us that blog and have come to enjoy this camaraderie might find it hard to explain to everyday family and friends about our bloggy buddies. I know my dear husband who supports me in every way has taken quite a while to be convinced. If anyone has seen Julie & Julia the movie with Meryl Streep (it is great, please see it if you haven't), there is a scene that so heartfully depicts the joy of a friendship come to life from words, ideas, and feelings shared on the page: Julia Child meets her years long pen pal Avis (a woman), in a train station after they have finally planned to meet in face to face, and as Avis enters, they seem to know each other immediately, throw their arms wide and embrace each other joyfully. Such a true picture of friendship.

Now I would like to share a few of those blogs. First, I would like to attribute my inspiration for this idea to two sources: Sally Annie Magundy, who tries each Monday to share new crafty blogs for others to visit (she has such interesting crafts and resources). The other is 84 Charing Cross Road, a tender true story told solely in letters that were exchanged over 20 years between a zesty New York screenwriter, Helene Hanff and an at first formal then friendly Englishman in London who was the manager of an antique bookstore from which she made many special requests (years 1948-1968). In the book you find that each time she requested a book, he would recommend another or visa versa and her interests grew as well as their friendship.

Let's grow some more friendships:

Tongue in Cheek: Corey (American) writes about her life in Provence these 2o some years married to a Frenchman and her adventures, brocante, family, travels, all things French, and has gorgeous photos and a loving outlook. My mom now actually understands blogland because in September 2009 Corey came to an antique fair in Texas that I dragged my mom to so that I could meet this dear woman. The moment I met Corey we squealed with delight and hugged, and chatted up a storm. My mom took to her immediately (of course) and now enjoys catching up with Corey online daily.

Sister one of four and The Rogers Family: a mom and daughter (dear friends Marcia and Lindsey) write sweet family updates and encouraged me so much by being my first followers and commenters (it is such a joy), even though they live near me I have kept better in touch with them via blog and emails--see I AM a hermit.

Here's a power blog alright: The Pioneer Woman, I happened upon her blog as she was just beginning to hit readers in the high hundreds, but now this homeschooling, former city livin', cookbook writin', photographer extraordinaire, and rancher's wife, who lives on a vast cattle/horse ranch in OK blogs daily and lovingly about her life and times....I dare you not to be won over....go ahead...at least try one of her man-pleasin' recipes.

Pleasant Places: Steph is a thoughtful, dear woman of the Lord who I found when I googled my own blog because I forgot my blog address. Hee, it happens. She blogs about her latest reads, antiquing, wonderful homemade gifts and especially, her inspirations: the Lord, and her family. She started at the same time I did, is also a stay at home mom to a same age toddler, and then I noticed that she is also in Texas! and we hope to one day meet up.

Thank you truly, Sally Annie, Corey, Marcia, Lindsey, Ree, and Steph for the encouragement and goodness you add to the blog world. Cheers to all!

Au Revoir Sweet Paris (June 11, 2008, Day 13)

This entire day was bittersweet for me. The day's agenda was not going to encompass anything new (to me): Musee D'Orsay, the Louvre, the Tuileries gardens, and the Latin Quarter. Because this was the last day of our trip, I knew I was wanting to treasure a revisit of these world renowned sights. I was ready to dust off the fuzzy romanticised edges of the Parisian images from my past and replace them with the real and gritty moments of a possibly crying toddler, diaper changes, hungry grumbles and complaints of boredom. We were now in the very midst of "trip lag" where homey familiar comforts are gone, moving around hurriedly is tiring, and cultural differences aren't charming. My dear ones really did not complain. The girls (all three) were amazing travel companions. But I could see from our slower morning starts, continual straight faces, and non-excitable reactions to, of all things, Paris, that their spirits were flagging. I was the constant travel cheerleader, just hoping not to verge on the obnoxious. Now, on to day 13.

This particular morning....a blur....nada. It is as if the mental recording of my memory begins with us walking upon Musee D'Orsay from its backside....ala Metro Solferino. I remember the quiet stirring of a handful of Parisians moving between the official looking buildings near the Musee. Again I had those random imaginings of someone to whom this is an everyday place describing where they live or work as.."oh, yeah, you know the block behind the Musee D'Orsay, across the Seine River from the Jardin des Tuileries, yeah I live/work there.." Dreamy.As we approached the Musee I could hear the rumbling of a mass of people, and sure enough there was a longer line than the previous day's line at Musee Rodin. Oh, no. We shuffled our way to the back of the long meandering line and my eyes caught sight of a door at the opposite end of the main entrance where people were easily gliding in with no wait. My bunch kept our place in line while I sidled over to the man guarding the other door. I showed him the pass we had purchased the day before at Rodin that was good for all the major museums. He motioned for me to go on in and so I waved my crew over and voila---the joy of having a museum pass.

Before my first trip to Paris in 1993, I only had the movie, school room idea of Paris (Eiffel Tower, cafes,the Louvre and Marie Antoinette). I had no inkling of the delights to be found in Paris's grand museums and Avenues. Once I arrived (1993) I remember the entire of feel of Paris embracing me the moment our missions group sat down on a sprawled blanket in the incredibly lovely and underrated Parc Montsouris to a picnic of the best baguette I ever had, cheeses, fresh fruit, butter, and jams, as we sat on an acceptable patch of grass and saw the Parisian families at rest and play all around us. I remember that I took in none of the orientation info being thoughtfully doled out by our missions leader as my senses were being flooded all at once with amazing and new experiences.

How do I pass these delights on to my family? I cannot account for the remembrances the girls keep of this visit, because imparting the better part of Paris: its' cafes, history, different edible joys and adventures is just not up the girls alley at this point and time. And yes they did try from time to time to step out of their comfort zones. Honestly if this last day had been spent entirely at the Galleries Lafayette (a supreme multi-storied glittering shopping landmark) mind numbingly shopping it would have probably ended on the highest note possible. But it would have been done without the Louvre! without Monet! without the stroll through the former royal Tuileries gardens. And I just couldn't do it. Poor girls. Musee D'Orsay is so light, lovely and majestic. It fairly glows as the light streaming in from the glass paned roof reflects off the cream toned decorative ceiling tiles and white stone interior. The gorgeous gilded clock overhead hearkens to its original use as a railway station.

Talk about re purposing a building. When I first visited D'Orsay (I had been to the Louvre, L'Orangerie (houses Monet's water lily panels), and even the sewer museum, yeah, I said sewer museum) I was taken aback not only by the impressionist art that it houses, but the elegance of the interior. The girls also craned their necks to take in the height of the central walkway through dramatic sculptures and as usual, we let them lead the way picking highlights of canvases shown on the map of the musee.

I drank in the Monet, Matisse, Pissaros, in their elegant setting. The girls picked a canvas or two they liked. Sara loved this very colorful one (no idea who painted it):
Anna enjoyed the detail of the diorama of the Paris Opera House and scale cross section model of Musee D'Orsay itself:

But again the time interrupter of hunger that is a brother to irritability and frustration swung in and stopped our tour. Instead of trying to roam about the neighborhood for a welcoming cafe or bistro we ambled into the high priced museum cafe. Just the other day I actually found the receipt for this sandwich, chip and drink lunch and it cost us a whopping $45 US. GULP. But it was adjacent to the large wonderfully situated balcony with a view of the Seine, Tulleries, and the Louvre. Our next stop. These are some truly sweet girls:

I knew that the Musee as gorgeous as it all is, was not keeping the girls attention and so we walked over the Seine by a wide foot bridge over to the Royal Tulleries gardens.

Populated with Parisians and tourists alike lounging and drinking in the day amongst the gardens sculptures, the gardens were a perfect short stop for Sophia to run around and enjoy her favorite travel activity: Picking up rocks and tossing them. Ah, simple pleasures. Hmm, life imitates art?:

As we approached the Louvre, again I could see the crowded line at the notable glass pyramid entrance.
But a diaper change was necessary and the stop proved to be completely helpful as the girls looking about noticed a near under ground entrance to the Louvre, away from the major crowds (thank you Lord). Not many people were going in, but we entered with the confidence of tourists who can plead ignorance if corrected and were rewarded with the surprise of a quick express entrance, again with our museum passes. The girls felt elated with the tiny adventure and ready to explore the overwhelmingly grand Louvre. It is a Paris MUST.

This extensive museum that houses many ages of art, is in a word, ginormous (well kind of a word). I have visited it four times and yet haven't even scratched the surface. But because my family was on museum overload, I pared down the must see checklist to the predictable highlights of The Mona Lisa, Winged Victory of Samothrace,

Venus de Milo, and the awe inspiring series of Rembrandts. David said that even though he understood why Musee D'Orsay was my favorite, he wasn't expecting how intriguing the art, history and building of the Louvre itself would be to him. Each expansive room after the other filled from floor to ceiling with amazing images and color. We kept finding our eyes being drawn upwards to the intricate details of the ceilings themselves that recalled their royal history. The grandness of the museum kept the girls' interest but the crowds were wearing them down. Once we got to THE Mona Lisa, it was like we hit the Hollywood red carpet and the paparazzi was in full force. She was tucked away in a smaller room than the others works and keeping her company was this other piece of over sized floor to ceiling canvas that no one was standing near.Here she is behind crowds and protective glass.

Sara in proximity to the Mona Lisa. "Sara what do you think?", Me. Sara, "Um, it is neat." Me, "Is that it?" Sara, "It is really small." Me, "Are you ready to go?" Sara, "Um, yes." And off we went.

This shot is the last Paris shot I have at all. Even though it was just getting near four I knew that by the time we found a place to eat and ordered we would feel like having dinner. Then the other time consideration was that I had to do some major packing. So it was going to be the earliest turn in time of our entire trip. On our way out of the Louvre we looked for an easy access out with our stroller and we got to have a ride on the circular open topped elevator that rises up the main entrance pyramid.

We decided on picking up a pizza at the restaurant (Rim Cafe) we first visited when we got to Paris (in the Latin Quarter) and waited for pizza being entertained by a street band playing Strauss. Sara passed her time enjoying her last banana nutella crepe and ate it with gusto. Then another Metro adventure ensued, seeing as it was "rush hour" for the Metro and we were loaded with our crew, plus gear, plus pizzas at the busy Metro stop. When we finally crammed ourselves into our spot we were practically body to body in the car. Then as usual, a man offered his seat to me as I was holding Sophia, diaper backpack, and some food. Sara wiggled near me and as her usual, she was staring at a young woman near her. I poked her side to keep her from staring too long and in answer to the jab Sara said, "Her outfit is really cool" in a clear yet hushed tone. All at once the girl standing near the Metro car doors as they were readying to open at the stop, turned around to Sara and said, "Thank you!" with a slight accent and a sweet smile as she left the car. Sara's face reddened to have been caught. Then she said just as I thought it too, "Glad I said something nice." Yes, indeed.

By the time we tromped into our apartment our pizza was cold but still tasty and downed with our last bit of juices and soda as we watched another movie and packed. The girls said more than a few times that they were ready to be home. Sophia wound down quite easily and after everyone was fed, showered and tucked in I still found myself packing and organizing (its my plight).

The next AM I called our apartment owners because we had yet to see them and hand off the security deposit. The owner said not to worry about it and if there were any concerns they would get in touch with us (there were none and the apartment experience was ideal). Thankfully we had set up a shuttle pick-up to the airport which arrived on time around 7am. What I enjoyed best about this ride was that our driver took us by some major sights on our way out including the Arc d'Triomphe, and our parting shot of the Tower. Ahh Paris.

Honestly our trip back home was quite a bumpy one again. And oh, so very tiring. Sophia, who had been such a trooper for the journey to Europe and all around it was having none of it traveling back home. Once again I had to pause and say that we did it to ourselves: we traded ease of travel and peace of mind for cheaper tickets and the hustle bustle. But after near 24 hours of travel back on three separate flights, a two hour drive home from Dallas airport to our boonies ranch, and no lost luggage, we were of all things: Thankful.

It took me a full week to unwind and unpack (that's me) and hey, only a year and half to retell our tale. But the girls still love travel (yes, dear friends I am about to retell our August 2009 trip with Loulou), still will go to museums, walk for blocks to a major sight, pose for random pictures, eat new things, and put up with lugging luggage to and fro. They have actually said they would love to go back to Paris (proof to me that I didn't ruin it for them) and do some shopping. David even said that he would go back. When will that be?

Well I sit here and realize that we were definitely blessed to take our entire family when we did and that Paris may not be in our near future. But these dear memories are ours and because of the blog world I can keep up with Paris adventures and sights all the time. And of course if we find our way back again y'all will be the first to know. Thanks for reading ...Au revoir.

Christmas time is HEEEERREEE!

***WARNING*** This entry you are about to read is more than likely going to have a major tangent and a slight brag. Please do continue reading but have grace on these personal hiccups, sometimes that is just how I roll. ***

Can you just hear the Charlie Brown gang singing this little ditty? Last year I posted about favorite Christmas shows/movies that usher in this holy time to me. Yep. The list is still unchanged for me. At this writing I have heard Buddy the Elf proclaim to a mall Santa that "..(he)sits on a throne of lies.." not being the real Santa and all. And we have watched Linus tell Charlie Brown and all American viewers the real meaning of Christmas from his recitation of the Gospel of Luke chapter 2. Amen Linus. I will catch up on the rest of my faves the week of Christmas I am sure.

But just yesterday I was asking my dear family their favorite Christmas songs. And I was surprised to hear their faves. So here goes another list.:

6. I like them all. Really. I have what Jane Austen would call a "serviceable voice" (slight brag warning) and will readily belt out any Christmas song that comes to mind, Jingle Bells, Winter Wonderland (Liz Phair does a great version of this), The Christmas Song (ala Nat King Cole please), O Tannenbaum, Mele Kalekimaka (Bing), etc. But since I want to finish this entry today I will try my hardest to stick to five.

5. Carol of the Bells. I like the instrumental versions a lot but the first time I heard this it was just voices and it is haunting, lovely, and evocative of the season (ooh, evocative, cool word, I even like just saying it...anyway). This was Anna's favorite. Good choice.

4. White Christmas by, who else, but Bing Crosby, of course. Well, now how in the world does a lifelong Texan, who has never seen a white Christmas (rainy, yes, snowy NO) in her whole life, find this song to pluck at her heart strings. It is EVOCATIVE I tell ya. I picture the dreamy scenes of Christmas it paints and aspire to help create that for my sweet familia, minus the snow.
3. It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. Andy Williams and his rich jolly voice out singing the swinging brass playing the tune. I just gotta sing along when I hear it and pump up the volume to 11.

2. Silver Bells/Silent Night. These are David's and Sara's favorites respectively. Silver Bells is such a nostalgic song of the celebration that so many share and the "Merry Christmases" you hear being shared even amongst strangers. Silent Night was my favorite growing up because the tune so easily fits a child's range. But truly this dear song of praise and worship sung at midnight candlelight Christmas mass growing up (I grew up Catholic) was a time of awe and wonder to me.

And now my tangent. My hidden secret joy about Christmas music. It cannot deny the joy of the season of God's greatest gift of Love to us...Jesus the Christ. I know secular songs are on my list and I do dearly enjoy them but the songs of Christmas that grip my heart and yes even bring tears to my eyes are the ones that give glory to our Lord and Savior and remind us of the AMAZING LOVE laid at our feet by our Gracious Heavenly Father. And people around the world are hearing these songs of the gospel everyday through the mediums of the internet, TV, radio and all around really. And His word does not go out in vain. So now to my top favorite song:

1. O Holy Night. Josh Groban, Celtic Woman, Martina McBride have lovely versions but the melody and words give glory whenever sung.

O Holy night the stars are brightly shining

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

'til He appeared and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,

for yonder breaks a new and glorious morning

Fall on your knees, Oh, hear the angel voices

O night divive! O night when Christ was born!

O night Divine! O night , O night divine!

Merry Christmas dear friends! Joy to the World indeed.

Paris, Day 12 (June 10, 2008) What's happening here?

We actually woke up early this day (7:30am). And it must be said we did not have a bad weather day in Paris. The early summer days were wonderfully chill in the AM, sunny and warm in the afternoon, and then cool in the evenings. What roused everyone out of bed this morning was looking forward to an "American Breakfast" as promised by Rick Steves. No, he wasn't there in person but on the 7th arrondissement, Rue Cler neighborhood, near the Eiffel Tower there was supposed to be a cozy cafe he recommended that not only served a breakfast with the obligatory croissant, coffee/hot chocolate, but also threw in an orange juice (fresh squeezed of course), and an egg (TA DA!) David and the girls were ready to meet the day that included an egg.

We walked through this neighborhood from the Metro stop and quietly took in all the early (well early for us) morning sights we had been missing: Trucks unloading goods for grocers and restaurants, people in business attire heading to work and small hushed crowds at the cafes having their petit dejeuner (breakfast). We joined the early morning club at the recommended cafe, sat outdoors in the sweet morning coolness, and I ordered our breakfasts from the waitress showing her our Rick Steves guide (Steves' readers are supposed to get a 5 Euro discount!)

See our family breakfasting around the small cafe tables. Sophia, not hungry, again.

It was all delicious. I ate it all plus the hot chocolate from the bowl (I love this French habit). We were all pleased and I was ready to linger in the cafe setting but Sophia was restless, and the crew knew we were heading to the Eiffel Tower for our fist sight and they were itching to get a move on. I hurriedly gave my card for payment and as the waitress walked off I noted that the amount on the bill did not have the discount.

Now,dear reader, at this point of travel I had noticed some pricing mistakes (whether meant or by accident)along the way. A Euro here and few bits of change there and not usually in our favor. And prior to this I had kept the mistakes to myself in order to make things easy on us. But for whatever reason this was not going to happen this time. As I approached the lady at the counter she was just finishing up the charge and in my patchy French, and as politely as I could, I stated the miscalculation to her and she simply looked at me and handed me the receipt to sign. "Pardon madame" and I explained I would not sign without the change. A Frenchman at the bar turned his head to take in the scene with a slight scowl (probably thinking "ugly American"). She still paused a bit, then stated that she had already run the amount through the machine, what could she do? "Well" I paused, thinking that in the states, no matter how annoying, the customer is always right. In France it is all a matter of respect, yet I knew I was not trying to be annoying, I was just tired of getting the short shrift as a tourist. Then a thought came, and again piecing together a language not my own, the coherent thought came out that she could run it through as on the receipt and I would sign it, if she gave me the change in Euros instead of credit. The man at the counter actually smirked (entertaining as it all probably was to him), and the lady actually breathed out "Humph!" and handed me the change.

Triumphant, but weary I walked out to David and the girls who wanted to know what had happened. I reflected a bit too much on my morning grumble until a couple of blocks from Rue Cler the Tower came in to view. All annoyances melted away. I have tried and tried to think what about the Tower causes awe. I have kinda of figured out that for me it is the fact that in growing up in mostly small town Texas and dreaming that one day I might be able to travel out of state, that international travel was just not in the realm of possibility for me. Paris was a place to be seen in Lifetime shows and romantic movies (Sabrina, French Kiss, Forget Paris). Now Paris was all around me and better than the movies. And even better this time was that I was sharing it with my loved ones and could see their delighted responses.

By the time we arrived crowds were just starting to form so David and the girls immediately got in line. I realized we all would not be able to go up since Sophia had fallen asleep during the stroll to the Tower and getting the stroller up the stairs would be an ordeal up the steps. The elevator line was extremely long and pricier. I convinced the girls and David that I had been to the second level more than a few times before and tho' the view is a must I would much rather take time with Sophia and save us some money by my sitting it out this time. I was truly okay with this but I knew I was gonna miss their first time awe at the view. A neat plus was that we had scribbled out a few postcards over breakfast and the girls were going to send them out at the first level post office on the Tower. They actually stamp the Tower on the mail that goes out--what a treat for loved ones at home.

All in all my wait was not long (about an hour) and Sophia got in a respectable nap and snacked a bit before we regrouped. David took the camera and got some impressive pics:

This is my fave. They are touching the Tower. Look at the painted fingernails....how cute.

Next on the agenda was Musee Rodin. I had missed this famous sculptor's museum on my two previous trips and had heard raves about the lovely gardens and well-known sculptures. As we approached the line came into view before the museum and this was our first encounter with amusement park like crowds and lines at a major site. I think the waiting killed my family's desire for the museum. We waited about 45 minutes. Not a tremendously long amount of time but when you add the hour or so they hung about as I lingered amongst the sculptures reading the stories and history it was all too long for them. Yes, I loved it. Here's the kiss,


the hands,


the thinker.
And for some dreamy reason could picture myself touring it all slowly, quietly, in the fall season when the crowds are far fewer. Maybe for another time? We shall see.

But at this time it was hot in the mansion that housed the sculptures, crowded, and the girls were hungry. Sophia wanted to run about. We attempted to eat in what Rick Steves described as a well stocked garden cafe, but when I ran in with Anna to get an idea of what was available her hopes were dashed as it was all vegetarian friendly, with mostly unfamiliar veggie salads, cold pre-packaged meat sandwiches filled with un-Sara and un-Anna fillings. So we turned around and I announced that a Mc Donald's could be found on the Champs d'Elysees and it was a location of some cool shopping (mostly the window variety) and the Arc D'Triomphe.

It was such a lovely walk down the Champs d'Elysees toward the McDonald's near the Arc de Triomphe. The sidewalks were streaming with people but not overly crowded. We ordered our hamburgers and big icy drinks and surprisingly found a table for us all in the very busy and ultra crowded Mac Doughs. Hmm. The French detest the American fast food you say. I think maybe "non!" I have since heard that France is the country with the second largest consumption of McDonald's food after the US and that soon there will be a MacDonald's in the Louvre! Oh, my. But actually I am not a McDonald's fan. It is not a social protest. It is just personal preference. I find our Texas Whataburger hamburgers and fries to be exceptional and probably only get something from Mickey D's about once a year at most. But overseas, each time, I have noticed it is a welcome sight when unfamiliar foods have disappointed and cost us more than the few Euros for a combo meal.

Once done our energies were flagging. Oh, no. I suggested the also familiar and decadent Haagen Daz across the Avenue. Everyone perked up enough to get the treats and then Anna felt uneasy. She liked her ice cream but knowing that the Arc de Triomphe was almost 3 blocks away I could see her calculating the energy she didn't have to walk there and then on to another Metro and so on to our apartment. She said she wanted to nap. I didn't want to be uncaring but I suggested that we were so close to other things I wanted to show them, Laduree (a elegant and landmark patissierie/tea shop), Sephora, um, Sephora. Maybe a small rest would help? No. Then she said that she wasn't feeling well tummy wise and I knew we were trudging back to the apartment. Later both girls regretted this but Anna says that she knew at that moment she needed to rest. And she is not usually a girl to poop out.

When we returned to the apartment David, Anna, Sara, and Sophia vegged in the living room and picked a kid friendly movie from the stack provided by the apartment agency. I could feel a cloud come over me. Selfishly I whined in my head that if I was touring Paris on my own I wouldn't waste a moment. But I knew in my heart that if I was taking in Paris on my own it would be sad indeed because I love sharing these experiences with my crew. I needed a getaway. Yes, I would take a stroll. I asked David if he minded if I strolled and took in a cafe. He drowsily said that sounded great, that he and the girls would nap/chill. I think I skipped on my way out the door ready to spend a couple of hours exploring on my own.

This was thrilling to me. I knew I would simply amble about the neighborhood. Ah the stairs of Montmartre.
Then this cafe invited me in.

It was neatly tucked around the corner and I found a quiet tiny table in the midst of the chattering, visiting French. It was perfect. I ordered my Kir (dry white wine with cassis) and nuts were the companion nibble provided.

I wrote in my journal, planned (well trimmed down the plans) our next day,s schedule, and just took it all in. The thought came to me that all the delightful Parisian characteristics around me: cafes, cobblestones, old architecture, were the Everyday things to most all the French people around me. This was some one's everyday. Man, oh, man.

I stirred from my daydreaming revelry in just enough time to hurry back to the family at the apartment. They had just finished their movie and wanted to slip in another when I rounded them up to find a place for dinner. No one wanted to sit about a table and wait when they could pick up something and enjoy it at "home". But first we wanted to see the beautiful Paris landscape at one of Paris's sights that was only a few minutes away by foot--Sacre Coeur Cathedral.

We walked past our restaurant from the night before.

We walked past the artists all set up with there easels. We spotted one of these fanciful water fountains that actually flows with water you can drink, just fill up your water bottle.

We found the steps teaming with people around the church....

all taking in this view.

Talk about a spot that Parisians and tourist alike sit and share. Sacre Coeur is not remarkable because of its age. It is only over a hundred and some years old. A baby compared to the likes of Nortre Dame, and the Louvre. But its perch on this hill in Montmartre, its luminous white exterior, its beautiful mosaic ceiling, and grand view of the entrancing city of lights all make it a notable sight to see.

But the girls took a look, said, "Cool" and were ready for some dindin. So we set out to find some food "to go" and after some trepidation on what would suit us we found a small four table restaurant whose outside menu also said "emporter" (take out). Yippee.

The more we studied the menu, the more we wanted. The gentleman taking our order (Middle Eastern looking) smiled kindly as I added one item on top of another..."one sausage, no, make that three sausages, 3 orders of fries, no make that 4. Two Belgian waffles, no, make that one waffle, and one banana nutella crepe (of course), some roast chicken"...and he chuckled at me trying to interpret as my crowd was calling out to me what they wanted and how they wanted it. Then he asked where we were from. See, I am decidedly Hispanic looking and in Europe actually get mistaken for being Italian or Greek. Mexican-American is not on the local radar. He wondered because David and Anna, and Sara are so blond, blue-eyed and German looking and Sophia is a blend. He asked the French version of "What's up with that?" And I appreciated his honest curiosity and stated our little family was a melting pot and very much all-American. He nodded away apparently tickled at the answer and tossed in a few ketchup packets and a couple of drinks for free (I guess he heard the girls asking us for both as we waited for our order). What an opposite scenario from my morning's quibble over our overcharge for breakfast. We all uttered Mercis as we waved goodbye. Again, a small kindness buoyed our spirits. Ah, Paris.

We got home and unpacked all the surprisingly delicious goodies (Thank you chuckling man and thank you Lord) and watched The Holiday with Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet. I so truly enjoy this movie for more than one reason. David and I always tear up at the part when Cameron Diaz's character surprise visits Jude Law's character (a widow) at his home and is surprised herself to discover that he has two adorable small girls. When David and I met (family set blind date) I was not surprised by his two adorable girls, but the night I met them for the first time was so much like that part of the movie. We all loved each other from the start. Thank the Lord. The girls gave the movie two thumbs up (we fast forwarded a couple of parts) and we actually rested our heads at a most decent hour. Well honestly......

At night, I organized our packs and outfits for the next day. I packed some items up hoping that the next night I wouldn't be overwhelmed with getting us completely packed to leave. I watched as Sophia and David slept soundly, listened to the sounds of the neighborhood from our opened windows that allowed the cool night air to waft through. I walked over to the sleeper sofa and watched the girls, sleeping almost head to head and thought how astoundingly sweet was this Paris moment. We only had one more day in this dreamy city.

Lazy Monday (June 9, 2008) Day 11

Yup. We woke up without any alarm....slowly. David took care of us and had his own Parisian experience by traipsing out as we got ready and scrounging us up some lovely pastries. There was a patisserie nearby, and David used the little bit of French he had gleaned to this point on our trip and came back with exactly what we ordered. He said he felt a rush as he ordered alongside hurried locals who knew what they wanted and didn't suffer fools holding up the line. On the third morning that he sweetly did this for us, he said that he hesitated in ordering for a moment and a French customer called out his order only to get put in his place by the proprietress who was helping David. David was encouraged in his efforts and we even discussed the fact that these interactions make the traveling experience richer; Not all the standing back and taking pictures and observing (which we do plenty of ). The direct learning as you go communication, mistakes and all.

Well, we downed our so yummy breakfast and finally hit the Metro around 12pm. We headed to the Latin Quarter arrondissement again to check out the Musee Cluny (National Museum of the Middle Ages). Medieval artifacts abound along with the well known Lady and the Unicorn tapestry. Here we are in the Cluny courtyard:

Built as an abbott, I think, in the 1400s, it is a remarkable building. But it was under construction, partially. As we entered the lobby under scaffolding, I hoped we would be able to go inside (it was not crowded!). The desk attendant said that, "yes, of course" we may enter free of charge. "Pardon?" He explained that because of the construction the exhibits were somewhat incomplete but the tapestries were open to viewing--"enjoy." Wonderful.

I love museums and on my own I would read each item's description and take it all in. Not so fully educated on all things medieval though, and with a family of two preteens and a toddler, drinking in all the details was not gonna happen. We did all enjoy the tapestry and the small gift shop but as we departed I could tell my troops needed a pick me up. Ice cream.

As we wandered aimlessly (this is dangerous to morale people, I tell you it is dangerous), looking for ice cream, Sara uttered that she would actually like to eat a meal. Anna and David agreed. Somehow the nearby Mickey D's, oh, excuse me, MacDough's, was looking good, but I just couldn't have us eat there. It wasn't good for my morale. After some unfruitful brainstorming on what could possibly please everyone (uh, it does not exist), we compromised on a sandwich (panini) stand in eye shot with reasonable lunch specials advertised. Now it was my turn to cause a stir.

I ordered, then was whispered to by Sara on how absolutely PLAIN she wanted her panini. I changed the order, and was corrected by Anna on something else she decided she wanted. I changed the order, again. I ordered my sandwich, then being told it wasn't a special, changed my order (small line was forming and hovering around me). David assured me he would eat whatever was put before him, "let's get it goin'". And thankfully, a sweet local lady standing in line eased my anxiousness by clarifying our orders in her quick French as she had understood our English. All was set to right. "Merci, madame, merci!" (Mercy me) When the busy sandwich man handed me our bag I took it quickly without double checking it.

Jardin Luxembourg was nearby and we found a friendly bench in a shaded area and picnicked. Perfect. This grand garden in the 18th arrondissement is a very familiar sight to me. A few times during my mission trips before, when I had empty free times, I escaped to the Jardin and would have a quiet time in God's word, journal, pray,and watch the changing scene around me. All those times I was so astounded by the place and time I was in and the blessing the Lord had provided in the reason I was in Paris. Little did I know that years later I would be able to share this tranquil yet popular and active setting with my foursome.

All our orders were correct but the sandwiches were just "okay." Sophia munched on some of my chicken and otherwise loved being freed from her stroller. We had plenty of space around us for her to wander about.


The girls and I went to the below ground toilette (we used them whenever available) and here we were specifically told (by a middle aged nicely dressed man) that children and adults had the same charge to use the bathroom. All the times before the girls got in free and generally without waiting in line but once into the restroom we saw that there were special toddler/child toilettes.
Note the shaky picture because the male attendant was eyeing me suspiciously and I took it quickly. The entire bathroom was very clean. So clean that David said as he was "busy" in the men's side, the lady cleaning the area was even sticking her mop into his stall (under the door) making sure to get everything clean. We lingered in the park a little too long I think because as I suggested the possible spots for the evening, David asked if we needed to get Sophia more groceries. Um, "Yes," I answered. So his suggestion was that we should head back to the apartment, chill (nap), and let me get the groceries before the stores closed, then go to eat near Sacre Coeur. Anna and Sara readily agreed because it had been a full day. What? When I recapped to them that all we had done was Musee Cluny, and late lunch at the Jardin they looked taken aback, "That's all!" Anna said. And the silence pretty much decided that our day's excursion was done and so were the girls. As we headed out the park gates two friendly ice cream stalls enticed us to taste and the girls found a little more energy to stand in line for a scoop for the road. I've tried a few boules in my day and this little stall's pomme verte (green apple sorbet) was both refreshing, and creamy.

Quickly, we were back at the apartment and I strolled solo this time to a further off larger grocery store. I actually loved this opportunity to take in the day and place at my own pace. Once in the Monoprix I found all I needed and yet realized that my leisurely stroll was quite a ways away with groceries. I wished Anna had joined me. I got quite a workout on my walk back only to find David and the girls still napped out and Sophia up and hopping. It took a while to wrangle the drowsy bunch to move for dinner. I had no idea what we could/would find in the busy touristy Montmartre square, La Place du Tertre, but I didn't want it to take a long time to find it.

Needless to say our walk was oh, so lovely:
My van could crush these dainty Frencymobiles.

Zowie--makes you want to nosey around the neighborhood.

Such a cool sculpture that is supposedly taken from some French short story.

Though it was a short stroll no one said it was easy. I could totally work off some pounds going up and down the hill of Montmartre. But just at the top of this hill was this....
the winding roadways/walkways of the Place du Tertre and the Sacre Coeur.

Montmartre's history is rich but more well known from its days as an artist colony. So in honor of that many artists set up shop doing portraits and caricatures for tourists, definitely giving the square a festive flair. David scoped us out an available place to eat as Anna and I stopped to shop for postcards. Once inside the tiny, multilevel, packed restaurant the obvious sounds of the English speaking customers made me think two things: 1. the hosts and waiters would probably be more understanding of our questions and requests in ordering and 2. the food would probably not be great. Yup, both were true. The waiter was very helpful and the food was ehh.

There were two tipsy (I am being polite) Frenchmen finishing up their meal as we got ours and as they saw me taking out my camera for pictures they offered to take one of our family for us. I awkwardly tried to motion/explain how the camera worked and thanked them for the offer. They made us laugh because they giggled like school girls as they took the pic and handed it back. After they left I checked the results and kept it as a memento:
This photo is from now on proclaimed "Picture by a drunk Frenchman."

The meal passed quickly. I must add dessert was good. Most lunch or dinner deals at restaurants or bistros are in courses. They usually consist of a salad, meal, and dessert. Our usual dessert was ice cream and some kind of tart which we always taste tested each others and then devoured our favorite. We headed out and shopped the souvenir shops. If I had to add a tip to travelers who like to buy traditional/cheesy souvenirs, like me, I would direct them to this Montmartre neighborhood. The girls enjoyed the shopping but it was getting late and I knew a boost to the next days sightseeing opportunities would be a good night's rest--or so I thought.