A New Year

Today, in honor of the new year, I'm writing on resolutions, my classwork, books, and anything else that comes up.

New Year Resolutions

My friend Tracy posted these New Year's reflections at her blog, Traveling Clues. She writes, "Our lives take on the most value, purpose and meaning when we practice the discipline of reflection. To examine the choices we make and why, to evaluate the values by which we want to live, to consider the relationships in our lives, and such."

Anna's Christmas sweater

I wrote down answers to her questions this morning and looked through some sparse notes that I had taken at conferences and from my reading throughout the year.

I wrote down over a year ago, during a rare few hours of quiet and reflection at Pokagon State Park with a friend, "May I be faithful in the small things and not afraid to do the big things."

That's still where I'm at. What's small and what's big is not always clear, but I do want to be faithful and not afraid.

My knitting niece

It's been two and a half years that we've been back in the US, and I find that I'm resisting the striving that is in the air we breathe here. I feel like I am surrounded by messages to want and be and do something more. Much of it is good--health and relationships and caring for the world.

Notice Justin's ugly Christmas sweater.

But it can lead to a dissatisfaction that is permanent and strips me of the peace and joy of now. Joy that is independent of my weight or the state of my house. Peace that faces messy relationships and mistakes with grace.

And my brother's classy Christmas sweater

Grad School

I'm about to enter my second semester of my master's program in creative non-fiction at Ashland University. My writing for my coursework is focused on our time in France. I have four chapters done and will end with a book-length project that will hopefully become a real book when it grows up.

I've loved the required reading. My two favorites so far are The Empathy Exams and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.

I totally beat these guys at the game in between preparing roasted sprouts, my new favorite food.

Publications

My first published essay, Life in the Infertility Belt, was published at Eclectica this summer. InterVarsity's The Well published three articles this year--Gifts to Empty Places, Ebola, and Louie Zamperini and Loving the Other. I have a few essays out that I've waiting to hear back about, and one almost ready to send out. This new one, which has been percolating for a year, is about issues of race and safety that I've struggled with since preparing to move back here.

My brother performing feats of strength with my nephew.

Four Books

I still haven't finished two of my favorite books this year--Christena Cleveland's Disunity in Christ and Lewis Hyde's, The Gift: Creativity and Artist in the Modern World. Cleveland makes startling statements like, "People can meet God within their cultural context but in order to follow God, they must cross into other cultures because that's what Jesus did in the incarnation and on the cross." Then she backs it up. 

Pepper at the family Christmas party. It's not her favorite.

It was at the Word and Words Conference in Louisville this October that I heard of The Gift. I know exactly where I am in The Gift, page 121, because pages 1-120 are underlined in red and black pen.

Pepper opening her Christmas present--a rawhide bone from the pantry.

Here's a random underlined quote, "When either the donor or the recipient begins to treat a gift in terms of obligation, it ceases to be a gift, and though many in such a situation will be hurt by the revealed lack of affection, the emotional bond, along with it's power, evaporates immediately." It is crazy how much this book has influenced my thinking on writing and life these last few months.

Christmas kitties.

I first heard of An Idea Whose Time has Come about the passing the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Though politics is not my strong suit, it was helpful for me to understand the myriad factors involved in getting significant, life-changing legislation passed.

I'm looking forward to seeing Selma in a few weeks. One criticism of the movie is its depiction of Johnson as against the Civil Rights Act. The book depicts Johnson's role honestly and fully. Very worth a read.

All dressed up for Christmas Eve.

Last favorite book of the year was Unbroken. I saw the movie last week. My take is that the movie is fine, but the book is excellent.

I think people walk away from the movie with a great appreciation of Louie Zamperini's endurance and story. The same is true of the book, but the book pushes further into the story of Zamperini's struggles post-war and the prison guard's escape from any kind of punishment.  I had to deal with my own feelings of injustice in the face of a man who committed terrible acts, was unrepentant, and then forgiven.

Ok, this is a wonderful thing. We have missed cheese fondu here. I usually made it once or twice a year in France. I priced the cheese I would need last year, and it would have cost a small fortune to have enough for the four of us to have our full fill of melty Emmental, Gruyère, and Comté cheese. But, at Costco, I came across this carton of the magical three cheeses, bought it, and melted it in its container in the microwave.  It was so good. It wasn't cheap at $8, but it wasn't $40 either . Now I just need them to stock frozen French pastries for me to pop in the oven, and all will be well.

Happy New Year to one and all!

Saturday on the French Riviera

A picture from carnival a few years ago. It starts today.

Two of the four of us are living the kind of Saturday that you would imagine for people living on the French Riviera.

Scott flew off to Switzerland for the day.

And Anna is skiing nearby in the mountains with her scout troupe.

Justin and I are doing normal life though. I'm attacking backed-up laundry. It's been cold, and clothes haven't dried fast enough to keep up with demand. And I need to prepare the Sunday School lesson for the junior high class at church tomorrow.

Justin had piano this morning, grabbed a sandwich, and is off to practice before the game. He's hopeful that they'll win, so I'm hoping his hopes aren't dashed into tiny little bits this afternoon. I'll be there stressing out cheering him on and consoling celebrating afterwards. I'm in charge of the snacks afterwards, so I baked up a tray of cookies this morning.

I'm also hoping that Anna didn't throw up in the car up to the mountains. She has had a hard time eating breakfast lately, which could be good or bad for the car trip. She got down a mandarine orange and a few sips of orange juice. Just thinking about the car trip on the way to the meeting point this morning made her gag. This is her first time skiing, and I'm resisting the urge to call and check in.

Scott will be back before the kids' bedtime tonight. He's doing an informational meeting for the Mark drama that he'll direct in April. And he preaches the sermon in church tomorrow morning.

Phew. Off to pack up for the game...

Happy Saturday!

Family Fun Night

Ok, so I just posted something today, but I think some parts of our lives are funny, and I need to share.

Scott was to be away tonight at a GBU retreat, but the departure has been delayed till tomorrow morning. So, once Justin is back from basketball, around eight p.m., we will all be together on a non-school night. This is a rare thing this year.

So, for our big night of fun, which doesn't start till eight (when Justin and Scott return from basketball) and will end by ten (because we need to keep Anna reasonably on track with sleep schedule), we are having pizza, making popcorn, and then...drumroll...watching an episode of Little House on the Prairie. It's the last episode of season two.  I bought the first two seasons two years ago at Wal-mart, and we've watched them a little at a time. Anna and Justin both like them. Fortunately, Justin is unaware that Little House on the Prairie is not cool.

There are two episodes on the dvd. I am currently playing the next-to-the-last episode on the television with the sound off, not because I feel the need to see it again, but because our dvd remote is broken. There is a fast forward button on the dvd player, but the dvd will not allow it. So I need to make sure that I'm not distracted and pause at the right moment or our exciting evening activity will need to be changed.

Hiccup

We love Cressida Cowell's How to Train Your Dragon series. We were introduced to it years ago one summer when we were preparing to drive from Texas to Indiana. Some friends loaned us the audio book, and we've been hooked ever since.

The books are written through the eyes of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, who is not living up to the Viking image, in spite of being the son of the chief, Stoik the Vast.  The illustrations are silly, and the humor is definitely on the boy side--as in lots of belching and snot. We've read all the books together. And Justin reads and re-reads them.

Hiccup and his dragon, Toothless

We were excited when we heard about the movie in the making, but Justin was absolutely furious when he saw the preview. It was clear that they had drastically changed the plot. In Justin's book to movie experience, movies have stayed close to the plot (think Lord of the Rings), and we have lively discussions about when the movies are different and why those choices were made and whether we agree with those choices. So, this was his first book to movie experience where the movie was a different thing entirely.  He eventually made peace with the film, but it took him a while. He was seriously angry. We do love the movie. Even Justin.

Book nine, How to Steal a Dragon's Sword, has just come out on this side of the Atlantic, so it'll be wrapped up under the tree for Justin.

Taking a break

I've always been slightly ambivalent about vacations.

Growing up, my family went to visit family. I have good memories of hanging out at Grandma and Grandpa's house, playing with cousins, building card houses, and playing lots and lots of board games. Later memories are at the lake with the mingled smell of sun screen and camp fire at the end of long, lazy days.

During my first year of teaching in Houston, Texas, I lived with two close friends. Since we were teachers and had our breaks at the same time, Jenni suggested going to San Antonio for a few days as a vacation. It was a novel idea for me. I didn't know anyone in San Antonio. We stayed in a classic, old hotel with small rooms and did what you do when visiting lovely San Antonio for the first time--the Alamo and the River Walk. Though I don't have memories of it, we likely ate really good restaurant food.

Many of our family vacations over the last few years have been visiting family/friends kinds of vacations, which I think is still my favorite kind. This is what we did last week.

My very good friend and her daughter (Anna's best friend since she was  four) just moved to Paris this August. Initially,  I figured that Anna and I would head up during this fall break and spend some time with them. It turned into all four of us, and we stayed with another good friend.

On some days, we split up, Scott and Justin going the way of air and space museums and the like while we did other things, like letting the girls roll on the grass by the Eiffel Tower. On others, like the days when we went to Euro Disney for free (woo hoo), we stayed in contact with our cell phones and touched base or traded parents when necessary (like when Justin was ready to try roller coastering-- I am the roller coaster parent).

Our time in Paris was very kid-centered. If I were to go to Paris on my own, I would include a lot more café time, a trip to the Orsay Museum, and probably more time just sitting and chatting. As we did it, it was physically tiring, and filled with lots of activity.

But even though it wasn't necessarily what I would choose to do on my own, I have returned feeling refreshed and more ready to tackle what comes my way in the next few months.

I think I've undergone a shift in the way I view vacations, whatever form they take. I have seen the idea of vacationing as a modern extravagance, which is probably true in some ways.

But, people throughout history and cultures have had their festivals and times where normal life stops for a few days or weeks. I think of the Israelites going up to Jerusalem for yearly festivals, where they walked, talked, sang, and camped out on the way and back. It wasn't only a spiritual time to focus together, but a real break from the routines and pressures of their everyday lives of cooking, fishing, selling, etc.

I also think having vacation time when it is not ridiculously hot is very, very nice.

Books

We have lots and lots of books.

 Today I am giving a tour of the Harris family library...

There are four IKEA shelves in our hallway with books stacked in a way that is probably not good for the bindings. But this is the only way they all fit, and it reduces the dust. I have them more or less in Dewey decimal order, which needs to be redone occasionally since I'm better at putting them in order than keeping them in order.

Most of the hallway books are Scott's and mine, but there are a few shelves with picture books. 

At the end of the hallway, there's just enough room for a small hodgepodge of shelves and boxes that hold more children's books, with some random Bible reference material on the top. The shelves underneath these two wooden boxes hold mostly kids' non-fiction. 

This is probably not safe, but it has held for several years now, and since we don't have climbing toddlers in the house, I think we're ok.

Anna has a couple shelves of books in her room where the picture book overflow gets tucked away.

And Justin has a cupboard crammed with chapter books. His are in an enclosed cupboard because of his dust allergies. The cupboard is deep enough to have two rows of books on most of the shelves.

These small shelves in our room hold my favorite fiction, biography, autobiography, and creative non-fiction. 

I won't take a picture of the stack of books and papers on my bedside table or the French kids' magazines that get stuffed back on the shelves willy nilly, or the random literature that ends up in the bathroom, but they are here too and never ever stay organized for more than a week.   

You may have noticed that there's not much in French on the shelves. I aspire to read more in French, and I have a library card, but I have a serious problem with getting books back on time, and French books feel slightly unfriendly to me. The pages are stiff. And I don't like the library, probably because I usually feel guilty there because of all the late fees that I have to pay.

I'm going to devote my end of the week post for the next couple months to books--what I'm reading, what we're reading with the kids, some of our favorite books, and maybe some favorite authors.

Saturday Morning Kitchen Stories

Justin has wanted a waffle iron for a long time, so when Scott and I saw this one at Lidl on Friday, we snapped it up. I cooked up a batch Friday afternoon and surprised the kids with them. Justin wanted some more Saturday morning, so I decided to hand the recipe over to Scott and Justin and let it be their thing.

Scott took to the task, and his waffles were much prettier than mine. I think waffle making as the guys' thing on Saturday mornings is a wonderful idea.

Aren't they pretty?

I decided to make granola with some leftover walnuts and coconut from Christmas baking and came across a recipe that includes applesauce. I haven't made granola for years, but it sounds yummy.
Our home group met on Wednesday evening. I prepared a galette des rois to share, but then Jean-Pierre brought lovely bakery treats, and Daniel and Febe brought this panettone. I put the galette to the side, we'll eat the panettone at our next meeting, and the bakery treats were amazing. Probably time to come up with some kind of who brings what schedule.
I had also made a batch of chili for home group. Unfortunately, I used a new batch of chili powder from the Asian food store that was ridiculously hot. I couldn't serve it, so Scott and I have been dousing it with yogurt to cool it down enough to eat for lunch everyday. It took us four days to eat (I had made a large batch), but we did it.

Bought these clementines Friday. There were a lot in here. This is how many were left at 11am Saturday. Two were left on Saturday night. I don't even have teenagers in the house.
This is for the pizza dough that I was going to make Friday night. I put the dry ingredients together so that I could get started when I got back from dropping off Justin at church. Instead of dropping him off and leaving, I stayed and chatted. We had pizza on Saturday night.

The Great Harris Flood of 2009

Ahhh, vacation days.  Monday was a holiday here and Scott was due to return from his trip to Strasbourg.  Picnic with friends planned for later in the day.  The kids and I slept in...

Anna and I were the first to get up and discovered water pooled throughout most of the apartment.  Adrenalin is a very effective stimulant, btw.

So, here are three irritating things that happened between 8:50 and 9am:

1.  Ummm, my house had turned into a pond.

2.  I gathered up the soaked-through area rug from the living room, slipped (cartoon-style), and fell flat on my back into the pond.  Then put on my crocs which served me well throughout the morning.

3.  Quickly worked to sop up water in the hallway by wringing towels out into a wastebasket (it was within reach), lifted the very full of water wastebasket to dump it into the bathtub, and the bottom fell off.  My own little waterfall.   Lovely.

And three things for which I was grateful:

1.  The water was not coming from the toilet.  Very grateful as this happened to a neighbor last Christmas and the sight of sewage in our pond would have sent me way over the edge.

2.  The water was not coming from a faucet, which meant this was not due to any overt stupidity.  Phew.

3.  Scott was due home from the train station in half an hour.

So, I put the kids to work.  Anna was actually quite enthusiastic (maybe a little too enthusiastic).   And when Justin said he couldn't help anymore, I let him know that not helping was not an option (although I wasn't that polite about it).  I did let them take a break for breakfast. 

The problem is the water heater.  A plumber is coming late this afternoon, but for now we're heating water on the stove when we need it.  Nothing is ruined.

And yesterday was a stunningly beautiful day.  We made it to a lovely picnic with friends from church.  

I took this picture of the port.  

There was plenty of food,

time to play,

and time to laugh (Dina makes me laugh).

Here are the ruins of an 11th/12th century church.  I love picnics in Europe.

And some well-earned napping time (Anna is just pretending).

The Annual Harris Snow Day

We tried to get to the mountains in January for a day of sledding, but the roads were closed due to bad weather and avalanches.  We were actually on the train waiting for the departure to Casterino when Snow Train hostess came and told us that the trip was cancelled.  The kids were devestated, and we ended up  redeeming the day with a model for Justin, and a fake Barbie veterinarian set for Anna.  We were desperate.  It was an expensive day.

The Snow Train only runs until mid-March (actually a combination train/bus trip), so last weekend,we caught the bus at the train station, loaded our gear, and paid a euro each to go up to Isola 2000, a ski station built in the 70s .  This is something I love about Nice, by the way.  Where else can you pay a euro for a three hour bus ride?  Before leaving Nice, the bus driver even kindly offered complementary vomit bags.  Gross, but practical.

It was raining as we left, and rained as we got further up into the mountains.  Eventually, we saw traces of dirty drifted snow as we  climbed into the mountains, but it didn't look too promising.   Then, we rounded a curve, and the rain morphed into huge, fluffy snowflakes. Lots of oohs and aahs on the bus.  And it was winter.  Just like that.

It was not only winter, but snowy, windy, and cold all day.  Really snowy.  We were cold, and at first a little shell shocked until we found the indoor commercial center.  We ordered some sandwiches, and did some serious bundling up before attempting the outdoors.  

The kids had a blast.  We all did some sledding.  Justin and Scott sledded wayyyyyy down the hill and hopefully had excellent father/son bonding time as they trekked wayyyyyyyy back up the hill.  Anna and I attempted a snowman, but it fell apart when we tried to accessorize, so we finally gave up and went inside for a snack. 

The way back on the bus was mostly calm.  The rest of the family slept while I tried to forget that I was on a bus careening down a mountain and wondering if I should have taken one of the bags at the beginning of the trip.  Then it happened.  I smelled the unmistakeable smell of vomit.  A child two seats ahead of me.  I thought about offering my supply of kleenexes but decided my wisest course of action would be to bury my face in my sweater.   Which I did.  After a few minutes, the cleaning up sounds stopped.   I ventured out of my sweater.  And I have to say, I will be forever grateful to these parents for bringing air freshener with them on the trip.  

Once home, the kids had a quick dinner while we did a lot of stirring of the cheese fondue.  I had experimented with my recipe by adding a third cheese, so it never did reach the perfect consistency, but it was still yummy.

Anna is a big fondue fan.  It is cheese, after all.

Justin is actually only pretending to eat this. He eats a little more every time we make it, so I'm thinking in another three years, he'll be on board.  He's convincing though, isn't he?  

Castérino

We took a train into the mountains Saturday and spent the day in Castérino.  It had snowed a lot in the days before we went, and Saturday was warm and sunny.  So, it was perfect.   We had a blast sledding.  We'll come with two sleds next time though.  I got to take a few turns with Justin, but apparently I slow him down.   Ah well, someone needs to video the run...

 

Did I mention that it was a gorgeous day?

Anna and I made two little snow people since everything Anna makes must be little and cute.

Justin and his snow cat.  

Thanksgiving

I briefly considered not celebrating Thanksgiving this year. Scott was out of town, and I was out of energy. But after only a bit of thought, I decided I didn’t want Justin and Anna to grow up bearing a grudge about the Year We Didn’t Celebrate Thanksgiving.
So, I made plans to join in with some American friends for an evening feast.

After morning shopping, I planned to do a Thanksgiving craft with the kids during their two-hour lunch break from school. For the feast, I was in charge of bringing the apple pie, dinner rolls, and my family’s cottage cheese and olive concoction—all manageable in the afternoon. Then the kids and I would read about Thanksgiving while the rolls baked before heading off down the street.

I came back from shopping in the morning with just enough time to rush out and pick up the kids from school. Unfortunately, as I closed our door behind me, with the mailbox key in hand, I realized the apartment key was still inside. And the door latches shut automatically. And the other set of keys was in Paris. I kept a cool head. I didn’t want to stress out the kids, so I didn’t mention it right away. There is a locksmith on our street with a sign saying they open doors, so we stopped in on the way back. I told the young man our problem, he packed up his gear to follow us out; and then he mentioned the price. Eighty euros to open my door. That’s one hundred dollars. I mumbled a few words of apology, slunk out, and sought solace and help from our upstairs neighbors.

Alex and Marina weren’t home, but Norma let me cry on her shoulder while the kids played. We called Alex, who suggested sliding a credit card through, giving me momentary hope. But, alas, our doors are credit card proof. This should be reassuring, but it was mainly irritating.

So, after dropping Justin off at school, I slunk back to our neighborhood locksmith to admit defeat and plead for help. An older man was at the counter, and he offered to open the door for sixty instead of the usual seventy. Hmmm. I figured this was a good deal. Don’t know if he had compassion on me because the other guy warned him that a very upset lady with hungry looking children might be back or if prices just depend on the look of desperation in the client’s eyes. In any case, I was feeling pretty good.

Back in our building, Anna and I plopped down on the stairs as the locksmith took out a paper-sized piece of plastic—basically, a big, slightly bendy, credit card thing. I was thinking that sixty euros was a little pricey to pay someone for having a bigger piece of plastic than you have. But, hey, he had the plastic piece. And I had rolls to knead.

Then things got interesting. As he worked the sheet between the door and the frame, the lockmith began to repeatedly kicked the door. Hard. Anna was frightened, but unwilling to miss the action by going upstairs to play. Little Noah from upstairs came to join the fun and took a seat next to Anna .

Our door is quite secure. It took a half an hour of sweat, more kicks than I could count, three trips back to the shop for more tools, four trips upstairs to examine and measure the neighbor’s door, and three drilled holes before that door gave in. Two four year olds were entertained as well. Sixty euros seemed like a bargain.

In the end, the rolls rose adequately, the apple pie was lovely, and the cottage cheese thing—well, the cottage cheese thing is foolproof. We even managed to make turkeys and read the Thanksgiving story.


Cottage Cheese Thing Recipe

A container of cottage cheese
Three or four big spoonfuls of mayonnaise
Half an onion, diced
A small can of olives, sliced with juice

Bike Riding

Soon after our arrival in Nice, a friend gave Anna (3) a sweet little hand me down big girl bike. She needs training wheels, so the bike has been parked in our hallway while we have been settling in. So, for Christmas, we gave Anna training wheels and Justin (6) his first bike without.

Their first training day was at a neighborhood park. I spent the afternoon giving Anna gentle pushes on her back when she didn’t quite get the hang of pedaling. She was determined to master the skill, and would protest, “Me do it myself,” if my help was too obvious. Scott spent the afternoon gripping the back of Justin’s green hooded sweatshirt while jogging alongside him. Knowing how patient Scott is (very) and how cautious Justin is (very), I resigned myself to many afternoons like this in the coming months.

So, a few weekends ago, we decided to be good parents and take the kids biking again. Anna was making progress, and I only needed to give occasional invisible pushes to keep her going down the sidewalk. Anna has to stop occasionally, get off her bike, and window shop. We live in a city, so there are at several Too Interesting Not to Stop at Windows on the way to the park—the Buddha in the Vietnamese restaurant, the games in the children’s consignment shop, the children’s magazine in the book/newspaper shop … Our most serious window is the Dogcha shop (a dog paraphernalia shop—this is France, and the French truly do love their doggies). After a good, long gaze, Anna will comment, “Maybe I need a dog,” before letting me help her back on her bike to continue our journey. Our progress is painfully slow for me as I help her dodge restaurant chairs and bend to scoot her across streets.

As we turned the 10 minute walk to the park into a 25 minute exercise in motherly patience, I was thinking about the sacrifices that we make as parents--like my husband choosing to spend the afternoon running alongside Justin while I gave my invisible pushes to Anna. I was feeling the tension of thoughtful sacrifice. I knew full well when setting out that I would really rather be cuddled on the couch under a blanket reading a book and sipping hot chocolate. But I also was feeling good, in a disciplined, I’m doing the right thing, even if it’s not the most exciting thing kind of way.

Then we reached the park. And there was Justin, beaming, riding that bike with Scott a full five meters behind them. I honestly felt like my heart leaped--cheesy, but true. I’m pretty sure that something jumped or wiggled in there. I was so very proud, happy, surprised, amazed… What started as parental duty ended in family joy complete with a sticky celebration of oven-baked s’mores the next day. There’s still a bit of dried on marshmallow on my black boots that I haven’t had the heart to wipe off yet. I’m kind of sentimental about these things.

Full disclosure—the way back from the park was not all that joyful. Anna was weary and wanted me to carry her and her bike the 10 blocks home. I refused. There was a tantrum, tears, and a good 5 minutes sitting on a window ledge before she tearfully gave in, holding my hand as she sniffled her way down the street. Fortunately, our bakery was open, and I was able to buy her a pain au chocolate to spur her on. It is a long walk.