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.

What I Learned This Spring

I'm joining Emily P. Freeman's quarterly post link-up today of things she's learned in the season just ending.  She writes and shares some of her list every three months--always including the silly and the sacred--and I always mean to start this practice of reflecting, too.  After listening to her latest podcast outlining some of the questions she asks herself, I eagerly sat down and did some reflecting on the past three months of spring.  Here are a few things from my list:

1.  I'll probably never choose the fancy restaurant.

I think I already knew this about myself a little, but it's become really clear in the past few months that going out to eat is just not that important to me.  I've been a little slow to this realization because in certain circumstances, I greatly enjoy going out to eat, and I can see that it's a fun and valid way to spend your time and money, savoring an experience.  But it's just not that important to me.  

On Mother's Day I treated myself to a wrap from the supermarket

filled with things my kids don't eat:  goat cheese, nuts, and beets.

2.  I spent a lot of time looking at cherry trees.

From the first blossoms all the way to the cherry pie at the end, I spent a lot of time with cherry trees this spring.

I couldn't believe I got to be like Anne, with a cherry tree

outside my bedroom window.

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A post shared by Lynn Pugh (@lynn_pugh) on May 29, 2019 at 10:07am PDT

3.  Alexandre Dumas and Victor Hugo share a crypt.

On Mother's Day I visited the Pantheon by myself before church, and I know it's just their bones, but it made me happy that these two French writers share a room here.  

4.  Humans often blame God for the evil brought into the world by other humans.  

This is not an original thought by any means, but it occurred to me after watching a television show one night and reading a book the next morning.  In both story-lines a character assumes God is disinterested, non-existent, or that He created a world without order based on the bad things we're all affected by, and it struck me how upside down that thinking is.  Don't get me wrong, I've engaged in it myself.  When we're in pain we wonder what the point is and we think that perhaps if there is a God He might not care after all.  

But what if there is a God who's very interested?  What if He created a world of immense order and all that is disordered and evil didn't enter into the world by His hand?  And what if He's already executed the rescue mission that will rescue and restore all that was broken? 

5.  A well-stocked fridge, freezer, and pantry gives me great peace of mind.

I convinced K.J. we should join Costco last month, and I get so much joy out of having enough meat on hand to feed us for two weeks.  I'm positively buoyant when I push that heavy cart out the door.  This week I saw a group of corporate Americans there touring the store (it's the first one in France), and I resisted the urge to hug them and thank them personally.  

What have you learned this spring?