Franco Fridays: First Sight + American Cemetery

After our lunch at the Paulhiac's, we decided to walk from their home to the church.  It felt good to walk after sitting on the plane for so long, and we certainly had a lot of hills to climb.  Our walk led us up a steep hill to a park where we got our first glimpse of Paris and of what all Americans think of when they think of Paris:  The Eiffel Tower.

I had to keep reminding myself, "You're walking on French soil," and the Tower wouldn't let me deny it.

Shortly after trying to make myself grasp that I was on French soil, one of our first stops on the walk to the church was on American.  Just opposite the lookout point, as you can see, there was an American Cemetery, the only one in France, I think, where those who fought in both WWI and WWII are buried.  

The sight of all those crosses is very moving, though it was pointed out to us that crosses weren't the only markers there.

English + French inscription on opposite sides

of the building

I think it was KJ who suggested getting a picture with the American flag and the Eiffel Tower in the frame.

360,817 Americans gave their lives in WWII.

The memorials here were very beautiful, and I love the rhetoric found on them.  I want to think and hope that the choices we make as a country truly would be "that the world might live in freedom and inherit peace."  Especially since we were in France on V-E Day and a couple of weeks before the anniversary of D-Day, I was reminded that our soldiers truly did liberate those living in Nazi-occupied France.  And liberating the oppressed is a beautiful thing, a costly thing.

It didn't take me long to find a soldier from Alabama.

Remembering D-Day

At Pointe du Hoc you can still see (and even touch) the barbed wire afixed across the cliff tops where the U.S. 2nd Ranger Battalion climbed.  It's one of my favorite pictures from that beach.

 

Little boys can become great men.

My kids love when Kim comes over because she helps them build forts.  The fort from Monday night was left up through yesterday, and James wanted to take his nap in it.  I thought there might be some shenanigans from him before falling asleep on the floor, but I didn't hear a peep from his room.  On the contrary, he was sleeping so deeply he slept through me taking a lot of pictures of him, and finally had to be awakened by me crawling under there myself.

I've been thinking a little bit about what kind of man he will be one day, what his pursuits will be someday in the future.  Those sweet lashes and the curve of his soft baby cheek... I'm glad I have them to remember when "someday" is here. 

KJ and I finished reading Echoes of Eden by Jerram Barrs on Friday.  In the chapter about Tolkien's writing Barrs wrote a summary of the things that shaped Tolkien as a boy:

"His mother taught him at home, and he was eager

to learn languages, Latin especially--he liked the

sound of its words--and also French...His mother

taught him botany, and this fascinated him.  He was

entranced by trees:  looking at them, climbing them,

drawing them..."

I really liked the mentions of Tolkien's mother.  I've never thought about Tolkien's mother; do we ever think about the mothers of people we admire, the people who make, create, and do wonderful things?  

I'm sure Tolkien's mother had no idea what the fruit of teaching languages and botany to her son would be, but it's obvious there was much fruit indeed. The whole world can see the fruit of those early lessons now.

I don't know much about botany, but I was inspired to teach my children what I do know, to invest what God has given me in them, because those things will shape their lives in both big and small ways.

P.S.  I'm currently caught up in teaching James how to not lose his cool when Ella's foot touches him on the couch.  It's an important lesson in its own way, I suppose.

Dinner Party

Sunday afternoon I planned an impromptu dinner party for last night, to celebrate college graduations, new jobs, new jobs in other countries, and I always look forward to trying new recipes.  Last night was dinner party heaven because every new thing I tried was lovely and delicious, so I thought I should share the love.

We'll start with The Pioneer Woman's two contributions:  Homemade Lemonade and Chocolate Strawberry Nutella Cake.

I don't have a juicer, so I squeezed 24 lemons by hand yesterday, then weeded out all the seeds.  It made my trash can and my hands smell like summer, and it was perfect and delicious.  I filled up a big serving vat and gave no other drink options. :)

I think this cake speaks for itself.  Homemade whipped cream, from scratch chocolate cake, strawberries...and don't forget the Nutella.  It was seriously good and pretty to look at, too.  You could just make one layer if you don't want lots of leftovers.

I also followed a tutorial I found on Pinterest for the "perfect baked potato."  I thought it delivered.  I used our sea salt we brought back from Normandy, and the insides were fluffy and perfect as promised.

I also used our French salt on steaks that my lovely husband grilled to perfection.  The only downside of the evening was when a falling steak knife grazed KJ's hand, resulting in a rather bloody end to dinner.  I got out the fancy steak knives we received as wedding gifts, and since they've only been used around 5 times in nine years they're pretty sharp.  I think he'll recover fully, though.

The picture of James above reminded me of our favorite line from last night.  After a trip to the bathroom, James walked out with only his underwear and announced, "My pants are invisible!"  I for one didn't see them again for the duration of the evening.

"Friends are friends forever.' Michael W. Smith got that right.

Warm sun shining, a summer breeze blowing, corn hole, babies, and friendships I've kept for 20 years this month exactly.  I'm always blown away by the fact that there are things I remember doing 20 years ago.

Twenty years ago my family went to a church in view of a call, and before a meet-and-greet reception, we were taken out to eat at Bob's Barbecue.  I assume we were eating with members of the church committee?  They brought along a girl close to my age who I was a little determined not to like because we were moving, and meeting people I feel like I'm expected to be immediate friends with is not my favorite thing.  Kristen Cothran remembers that I lost a tooth at supper that night.

 Photo Booth

Maybe 14, 15, and 16?

There are a lot of young pictures of us somewhere to be located.  They've been shifted around a bit through the years for use in wedding slideshows.  I remember meeting Kristen Dumas at the reception that night.  I remember meeting her youngest sister more, though, with her long, brown, spiral curls, "I'm Ka-e Dumas." she said.  My earliest memory of being friends with Kristen Dumas is of sitting in the middle, back-left section of the sanctuary reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books during church.  We were probably 10 and 11.

Summer Mission Trip

1999

The bonds of friendship survived moving away from home and attending different colleges.  There were always summer days by the pool to reconnect us.  Kristen Dumas and I even worked at Wal-Mart together one summer.  She had to wear a fake engagement ring to keep from being hit on in the checkout line.

They made the 5-hour drive to help my college roommate give me a lingerie shower.  Kristen D. reminded me this weekend that the first thing I told her about KJ was that he had blue eyes.  Blue eyes are a weakness of mine.

There was my wedding day...

and four years later Kristen Cothran became Kristen Bond, and Kristen Dumas came home after two years in China with a beau of her own.

One year later, Kristen Dumas became Kristen Sosebee, and a 2 1/2 year-old Ella had the privilege of being her flower girl.

 I spy James.

 

Four years after this picture we look like this:

My big baby bump is a big "baby" boy; the flower girl is so tall; Kristen Bond has Elijah and expects Elise in about a month's time; sweet Mary Jane is here; Kristen Sosebee and I live a few states apart, while the Bonds are serving on the other side of the world in India.  I thank God for e-mail, blogging, and texting.

And in all the late nights of talking and giggling and dreaming we couldn't have known how gracious and faithful God would be.  Look at that group.

It's time for picture overload.

James loved Kristen, "that red-shirt girl."  He flew out of the car into her arms.  He's so quick to latch on and love people.  

It's extremely ironic that I sent James after Elijah when he ran away.  My boy is growing up.  I love this picture of the two blonde boys.  Elijah's blonde hair is very popular in India; his parents have to decline requests for pictures with him.

Elijah loved that toy, and those sweet kids did better on the couch than I thought they would.  Mary Jane loves her thumb; when you ask her where it is she'll pop it out of her mouth with a loud popping sound, grinning wide.

 Kisses Good Night

Elijah ignored the proffered cheek and planted one on her mouth.

I'm so thankful for the opportunity to visit old friends.  Here's to 20 more years of friendship...I could even be a grandmother in 20 more years.  How brief and good is life.