Three Weeks in Alabama

The kids and I are freshly returned from a trip to see family in the U.S.  For the past three years we've traveled home for Christmas, and while a once yearly visit was great (it's more than many global workers get!), it also made good-byes feel so heavy.  A year feels like a long time when you're hugging your family.  When we look on the bright side, the quantity of time spent with our parents is actually the same or more because when we do see each other, we live together for several weeks, but sometimes we only get to see our siblings a couple of those days.

When it comes down to planning four weeks home and fitting in time with each family and seeing great-grandparents and cousins and friends and church family, the calendar fills up quickly and makes me feel sad.  That's what happened this past Christmas and the thing that pushed K.J. to ask a friend from Delta about an offer he made to us once.  

Through his kindness and the generosity of his and another supporting church, we were able to plan a trip home halfway through the year, and it has made this year so much easier emotionally.  Good-byes at Christmas and when my parents visited France in April were so much easier knowing we'd see each other again soon.  Our kids were really needing cousin time, and a summer trip made it possible to have more of that good playtime they needed.

It's been three years since our kids have had an American summer, and they got to pretty much have it all the past three weeks:  cousins and cousins and grandparents and VBS and friends and swimming and suffocating heat and air conditioning.  It was all such a gift.

We're happy to be back in France with still plenty of summer to enjoy.  K.J. and Ella are off to the International Baptist Convention's youth camp this week, leaving James and I to a quiet week catching up with friends and dog-sitting and celebrating La Fête Nationale this weekend, though I'm not sure I can manage fireworks that don't begin until 11 p.m. with kids.  As it was, I had one of the cousins falling asleep at the 9 o'clock fireworks in Alabama.

Half-Way Through the Year

Half-way through the year seemed like a good time to bring back my monthly picture-a-day post.  This year we had our last day of school on May 31, so June began our summer vacation, and it was a fun first month with a big trip to Alabama for lots of cousin fun for the kids.  

June 1 - E began the summer reading this classic, which photographed so beautifully with our June roses.

June 2 - Window View

I love the windows that open directly to the outdoors in Europe; however, France has more bugs than England did, so I appreciate the function of screen windows more now.

June 3 - Geraniums are a summer staple in France.

June 5 - Skulking Fox

June 6 - Still can't believe we live in this city

June 7 - Summer Night

June 8 - Summer Walk

June 9 - June roses are pretty fantastic.

June 10 - Home Sweet Home

June 12 - It is a truth universally acknowledged that I love this story in all its variations.

June 13 - One last walk in the park before our Alabama summer adventure

June 14 - I wholeheartedly endorse the substitution of peanuts and pretzels with Cheez-its on Delta flights.

June 15 - Made it to Alabama and Andy Griffith

June 16 - Father's Day

June 17 - Pool Time

June 18 - Movie Time with Cousins

June 19 - No bones were broken on the Slip n' Slide this year.

June 20 - Waterpark!

June 21 - Last Day of Vacation Bible School

June 22 - Toy Story 4 (better than I expected, and my first time to watch a movie in a recliner)

June 23 - So much preciousness

June 24 - Hot Now!

June 25 - Fresh Hair

June 26 - And on to the next set of cousins!

June 27 - My First Sister

June 28 - I'm so glad these ladies made the drive to meet up for a short visit!

June 29 - Happy birthday, Paton!

June 30 - Sunday Cousins

I think I've shared this quote before, but it bears repeating:

“If cousins are the right kind, they’re best of all:  

kinder than sisters and brothers, and closer than friends.”

- Gone-Away Lake by Elizabeth Enright - 

Saint-Malo

Gusts of wind tangle my hair in seconds when I step out of the shelter of the car in Saint-Malo.  I'm excited to be in the town described so vividly in All the Light We Cannot See, and I feel guilty once again because my son doesn't have a proper coat or raincoat.  He's not going to be warm or dry if any rain decides to fall from the clouds moving over the city.  

 

We step into a bakery selling crêpes because they're always a win for the kids, and I'm feeling the need for a hot drink.  I get flustered a lot when ordering in a foreign language so I hurriedly order something off the chalkboard menu, momentarily forgetting that Viennese coffee means coffee with whipped cream, and before I know it, I'm holding a cup that looks like a birthday party.  Not all language mistakes end in disasters.

I notice a sale on coats at a shop we pass, and ten minutes later I am no longer a bad mother.  James is properly protected from the elements, not to mention easily recognizable from now on in a bright red waterproof coat.  I communicate in halting French with the saleslady, and she uses Google translate to tell me not to use liquid fabric softener when washing the coat.

We decide to walk along the walls of the city with its incredible views of the green sea and Le Fort National.  I'm especially impressed with the pool built-in to the beach where it can be continuously filled at high tide.

The water is so beautiful on a blustery March day that I imagine how stunning it must be reflecting the summer sun.

Using logs as part of the sea wall is also brilliant and beautiful.

The rest of the afternoon is spent looking for sea glass and collecting shells.  It's a gorgeous beach, and I'd love to come again in the summer, though I expect it will be much more crowded.  There's a lot more to discover here in this ancient city of pirates and explorers.  It's so fun when we read about Jacques Cartier in history a couple of months later, and I tell the kids he set out from a place they've visited.