Travel

On July 10, we will be arriving in Chicago with twelve (!) bags and one very angry cat. From there, we'll rent some enormous vehicle to get us to Fort Wayne.

We are still waiting for news on our apartment. We've had no visits this week, but know that at least one couple is interested and seeing about paperwork.

Today we measured the cat (she's big) to see what size cat carrier she will need for the flight. She didn't like it. Anna and I checked at the pet store on the way home from school, and we spotted a carrier that may be big enough. We asked for the measurements and will compare them with the British Air pet carrier requirements and the cat's height plus length from elbow to floor, length from nose to root of tail, and width.

I've read that it's best to get the carrier at least a month ahead of travel to get her used to it. I also read that we should take her to the airport a few times so she gets used to plane noises, but that's not happening.

For Sale

Well, after a whirlwind two months of decision-making, sorting, clearing out, painting, cleaning, and more clearing out, our apartment is on the market. The first potential buyers came yesterday and loved it. 

Selling quickly would be great, of course. We could plan travel back to the U.S.. And the apartment has never looked better.  Roses, jasmine, and geraniums are in bloom and the lavender is about to blossom.

The only dangerous moment when our potential buyers were looking yesterday was when they opened a hall closet. I half expected bedding to fall on their heads.

 Our kitchen is saying, "Buy me! Buy me!" It looks kind of naked with the counters so clear.

I'll keep the blog up to date on the moving process now that I've come up for air. Whew.

Easter

I teach Sunday school at church about every other week. Our class is roughly five to nine year-olds and on any given Sunday there may be from one to seven children, all girls. The parents of these girls hail from France, Senegal, Madagascar, Congo, Russia, and the U.S.

Since the fall of 2010, we've used the rotation model. I came across it when we visited a church in Bogotà that summer. We follow a six year (or so) teaching plan and stick with one Bible passage for three or four weeks before moving on.  I have loved it as we've had the freedom to approach the passage in different ways each week. We've done drama, cooking, praying, crafting, reading, acting the passage out with Playmobil people, art and probably other things that I've forgotten.

For Easter, we've looked at Jesus' trial. Last week, we acted out a few examples of what happens when someone is caught stealing.  We juggled the roles of thief, victim, police officer, and judge between the three who were present. Then we read the story of Jesus' trial and talked about it. No fancy craft, and the acting out was even done as we sat around the table because our Sunday school room has no space for us to move around. But, the kids were completely engaged.

This week, we read and talked through the resurrection passage from Luke. Then we did the above coloring page while we kept talking. Since we don't color very much, the girls were extremely enthusiastic. I've honestly never seen so much care go into something as seemingly boring as coloring rocks.

So, the girls are coloring their rocks, and we are talking about various things. Things like whether you should use a grey marker or a pencil, and whether to use your finger to smudge the pencil to add shading to the rocks. And we are talking about Jesus and his life when one of girls mentions that Jesus never married.

And another replies, "Of course he did, he had a son."

At which point we talked a lot, and I got her back on the right track theologically.

We continue to color, and I mention that the city in the background is Jerusalem. I also say that I once visited Jerusalem.

Same girl with wide-eyed curiosity, "Did you see Jesus?"

At which point I draw a time line which ends up having everyone from prehistoric peoples to Louis the fourteenth on it.

Happy week after Easter to you all!

Basketball Report

Justin with the ball. Notice the large yellow-clad guys.

I think I've said this here before, but just to be clear, I avoid going to see tragic movies. I was probably one of the last people on the planet to give in and see Titanic. Scott enjoyed the soundtrack so much that I gave it to him as a Christmas gift that year. Unfortunately, he could never play it when I was in earshot. It completely wiped me out emotionally.

In the interest of maintaining my positive, sunny outlook, I should  really consider avoiding Saturday afternoon basketball games.

The game started as these things generally do. All the parents were there in force with noisemakers. There was a glimmer of hope as our team had lost to this team by only ten points a few months earlier.

Then it began. The other team got a basket, than another, then another. And the ball resisted all attempts by our team to go into the basket. It was maddening.

Justin's a strong defense player, and sees that as his main role on the team. He usually makes a few baskets a game, but does his best to get the ball to other guys so they can shoot.  However, he had determined to work harder on offense this time. His best friend was out with an injury (they seem to have some sort of tag-team plan for their injuries/illnesses this year), so Justin felt he needed to step up his game. He even studied some basketball videos on Youtube as preparation--especially running up with the ball, then taking a step back before shooting.

So, like the other guys on the team, he tried in vain to make baskets in the first minutes of the game. Beside having the capacity to actually get the ball into the basket, the other team had some big guys and were strong on defense. Instead of giving up, Justin kept at it and started to make some baskets. I think our enthusiastic cheering and horn blowing was key.

The end score was 42-29. Not as bad as usual. But the very fun thing was that my kid scored sixteen of those points. Once he got over the disappointment about the game (about mid-way through the after game snack), he was able to be happy about how he played.

I think I'm proud because he did this when they were losing. There was never really any hope that they would pull this off.

And the ski report--Anna had a blast skiing!

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!

Wonder Woman

Anna and I share a passion for Wonder Woman. We've watched four episodes now.

Here are some reasons why we think it's groovy...Anna will do hers in bold print.

1. The theme song is sung with passion and conviction, has a key change, and includes the lyrics, "in her satin tights, fighting for her rights." Very awesome.

2. She is so cool and beautiful, wondrous, strong, awesome, and kind.

3.  She says this, "On Paradise Island, there are only women. Because of this pure  environment, we are able to develop our minds and our physical skills, unhampered by masculine destructiveness." There's something about saying this while dressed in a flashy bathing suit and high heeled knee-high boots that makes me giggle.


4. She is disguised as Diana, and she stops bullets with her magic wrist bands.

5. The spin. We love the spin. As a teenager, I could do a fine impression of the spin. 

6. She has an  invisible plane. It is not even computer animated. Nope, definitely not too high tech. We tried to rope Justin into watching with us when we began this adventure weeks ago. As I remember, we lost him for good at the invisible plane. He is of the Lord of the Rings/ Avatar generation and demands high quality special effects. This didn't pass the test.

He walked away in utter disdain complete with raised eyebrows and a significant eye roll. His loss. 

We think the plane is awesome.

7. The pace. There's a scene early on where Wonder Woman and the evil Baroness are rolling down a hill in the middle of a fight. And they just roll and roll and roll. For a very long time. Anna laughed and laughed. Things are too fast paced nowadays. 

8. Wonder Woman is invariably kind, always trying to convince the villains (or the gorilla in episode four) to change their ways. 

P.S. Basketball report--back to normal score-wise this Saturday. Oh well. 

Hammock

We are gradually acquiring occupational therapy equipment for Anna at home. One thing that I was on the lookout for was a hammock. Being wrapped up as it, like a cocoon, calms her down. Being turned in it at the beginning of her o.t. sessions helps with any residual car sickness from the car ride.

Because texture and sameness matter to Anna, I tracked one down that was as similar as possible to the one used in her sessions. The colors are blue, turquoise, and green. Scott got advice on how to install the hooks in the cement ceiling, and we borrowed a heavy duty drill a couple days ago. Installation is set for next week, when Scott is back from his GBU weekend.

I was explaining to a friend in French about the hammock while Justin was nearby Sunday. I said that we were going to install it in her room and explained how it helps calm her. Justin immediately jumped in and asked how it could calm her and why it was going to be in her room. I explained and said he could use it if he wanted and that I didn't really want a hammock hanging in the middle of living room. (her large gym ball and exercise mat that have taken up residence there are necessary for now, but a hammock...) Justin expressed increasing bewilderment and frustration, and said there was no way that Anna would let him in her room to use it.

I didn't really get all the drama over a hammock...until...

Said quickly, hamac in French sounds a little like un Mac. As in...

My poor son thought that we were buying a new Mac for Anna, putting it in her room, with the hope that it would somehow, "help her calm down." Given the sibling relations this month, he wouldn't have had much access.

I still laugh every time I think of it.

He is totally fine with a hammock being in Anna's room. And if he wants one in his, we'll be sure to do that.

Basketball Stress

Our team ahead by one point.

After last Saturday's match, I don't know if my heart can take many more basketball games. 

Background info. If you go here, you can see a picture of Justin's team. If you scroll down you can see how the season is going. It's a long and sad tale. The worst was the 73 to 16 game. Sigh.

Justin hasn't been able to play since the beginning of December when he broke his wrist. His team prevailed in one game during this time. When Justin got the text announcing the win, he assumed that it was a joke. When assured that they really did win, he said, "Wow, the other team must be really bad."

On doctor's orders, he didn't play in January even once he got the cast off. But even though he still had a week to go of prescribed wrist rest, we gave in last week and let him practice and then play Saturday's game. The doctor had said the reason was to make sure he didn't fall on the wrist again, so I instructed Justin to avoid falling as much as possible and to stick out his right arm if he needed to take a tumble. This sounds flippant, but he REALLY wanted to play, and I gave in.

Still ahead 23 to 15.

Of course, consistently losing has been hard on the boys, but it's way harder for the parents.

Parents vacillate between joking around, yelling encouragement at the team, shouting advice to the team, taking a break to smoke outside to relieve stress, mild cursing, threatening to take back Christmas presents, and sometimes just leaving for a while to get perspective and air before returning to the benches. There's a feeling of camaraderie among us as we walk this road together.

Justy with the ball.

So, when we saw that the opposing team this Saturday showed up with only five kids, we were hopeful. Hopeful that they would cave in to exhaustion by the end of the match, allowing our boys to eke out a win. Our guys were all there and healthy for the first time in months.

To help encourage our team, we had two very loud noisemakers. First time for me to ever see this kind of thing in France, but the parents are desperate.

So, the match began as these things typically do; with the other team leading right away four to zero. But, our guys rallied, and were soon in the lead. I was not the only parent to quickly snap a picture of the scoreboard. Every lead is to be celebrated and recorded.

Our group grew increasingly excited as the lead continued. The parents from the other team likely thought we were insane, but Scott pointed out that they probably figured that we were used to losing  the moment we all took pictures of the scoreboard when we first were in the lead.

All looked good going into the fourth quarter. The boys were ahead 39 to 30. The other team was getting tired. Their coach was turning pink in his frustration. It all looked good. And then...the lead was eaten up basket by basket as the opposing team rallied.

They nailed their shots. They made some free throws. Their coach's color returned to normal.

39 to 35. Yikes.

And we looked on with mounting anxiety and heart rates.

Here's a picture of the final time out. There are twelve seconds left. Our team has scored zero points in the last quarter. The score is 39 to 38, our lead.

This is our coach, telling the boys,"If you lose this one, your parents are going to be seriously mad," or whatever coaches say in these situations. I don't really know. I never was a basketball player.

Here are the final twelve seconds of the match. 

My goodness. It took me about an hour to feel calm again.

And the final score. Phew. 

We were good sports and clapped for the other team. They were incredibly resilient and just about pulled it off. 

But I'm so glad they didn't. It would have been demoralizing for us. 

And for the boys too.

Signs

Justin's cast was removed this week, so our trips to the children's hospital are done for now. He can't play basketball for another month because of the very real risk of falling again on his wrist, but he is resigned to it and is planning his comeback.

I wanted to take pictures when we first were in the emergency room over six weeks ago of the room itself, but wasn't sure if it was appropriate. The children's hospital is most famous for Angelina Jolie giving birth there a few years ago.

Here's a picture of the entrance.


The children's emergency room has clearly been recently decorated. The walls are painted in cheerful colors with large stick-on animal murals. The cheerful effect is effectively neutralized by the printed paper signs every several meters admonishing patients to not peel off the mural.

I find this funny in the same way that the new sign in the public pool showers cracks me up. It says, "Please don't shower naked." The showers are just an open area, in view of anyone and everyone going in and out of the inside and outside pool, so the fact that there was a felt need for this information to be posted means that more than a few people must have stepped way, way over the bounds of propriety and common sense.

In the same way that enough kids must have begun picking at the wall mural for hospital staff to decide that it was necessary to plaster it with signs.

When we first moved into our building five years ago, there were often passive-aggressive signs up in the entrance way like, "A big thank you to the person making noise at 1am last night." The place has gotten less hostile over the years, but a printed out  sign appeared in our apartment building just before Christmas, saying,"Thank you for the lovely Christmas present," underneath a printed out picture of a pile of dog poo near the entrance way.

Some conscientious neighbor had gone to the trouble of taking a picture of the poo, printing it out, and posting it for all to see. This was likely meant to shame the owners into picking up the poo, but it didn't make any difference as the poo and the sign stubbornly held their ground for a couple days. The culprits were most likely the teenage kids down the hall who probably just thought the whole thing was funny and posted it on their Facebook pages.

On the home front, kids are both home sick today but are perking up and doing science experiments as I write--a good sign.

Bonne année !

It's been a sluggish start to the new year here. In spite of bright, clear, and mild days, my body seems to think we are in the arctic, and that hibernating is the best coping strategy.

So, it's a little late for a New Year's post, but let's just pretend that it's the 1st of January, and that I am busily putting away holiday decorations and planning the year ahead as I report on our New Year's celebration. We will ignore the actual date and pretend that our  tree is not still up and begging to be put back in its box.

So, New Year's celebration...we spend New Year's Eve at our church where usually around forty of us gather for an amazing feast. There are always copious amounts of food and this year our table needed Anna's help finishing off the shrimp appetizer. She didn't mind.

Before midnight, we gather in the sanctuary for songs, prayers, and a short message. When it's midnight, it's time to faire la bise, and wish everyone a bonne année. In additon to just wishing a happy new year, many people will pronounce some kind of blessing, like, "May God bless you with...and give you...this year." It is sweet and lovely, and my response in past years has been a heartfelt smile and a very lame, "...et toi aussi," (not to be confused with the latin et tu muttered by Julius Cesar when betrayed by Brutus). Et toi aussi means, "and you too." Anyway, seriously, seriously lame.

So this year, as I took my December 31st afternoon nap, I thought about what I would like to say to people, partly not to be lame, and mostly because I really appreciate my friends and would to express something other than, "Back atch'ya," on what is a special occasion here.

In the end, I decided to say, "May the joy of the Lord be your strength." In French, "que la joie du Seigneur soit ta force."

If  I manage to resist hibernating these next days, I have plenty to write about...but if you don't hear from me, I'm sure I'll be back once Spring rolls around.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

...when after getting to bed after midnight, I couldn't sleep. I had some responsibilities for the Christmas morning service at church that were going through my mind--the music team had been unable to practice on Friday night, I needed to ask some people to read scripture passages in the morning, and I hadn't double-checked the powerpoint. Neighbors and their guests were chatting loudly outside since most people here stay up late into the night on Christmas Eve.

I was also debating whether the cinnamon rolls would be done in time before we needed to leave for church if I started them at 7:30, when we told the kids they could wake us up or if I should have set an alarm for earlier. And Scott's cold was making him snore. Loudly.

Finally, around two, I decided to move out onto the couch. Taking my pillow, I went into Anna's room and tried to sneak off one of her blankets from her bed. She has four or five on there, so I knew she wouldn't miss it. I went out to the couch, but Anna appeared, Cindy Lou Who-style. I had woken her up.

I ended up getting in at the bottom of her bed and covering my head to protect myself from the glare of her extremely bright nightlight. It was tricky because I needed enough cover to keep the light out, but not so much that I felt like I was suffocating. I could still hear the snoring, the people outside, and the neighbors upstairs coming in. And I still was debating about how to manage cinnamon rolls, but given the hour, I decided against trying to get up any earlier than 7:30. Eventually, I drifted off into a very light sleep.

Sometime after that, Scott woke up and noticed my absence from the bed. He was confused because I never, ever vacate the bed at night. He looked, but I wasn't on the couch and he didn't see me in the kids' rooms. Since I was buried under covers over my head at the foot of Anna's bed, and the middle part of the bed is has a canopy, I was expertly camouflaged.

My poor husband stood in the living room early in the wee hours of Christmas morning, wondering where I could be.

He heard people talking in the hallway. Loudly. And finally realized that he heard them too well. Our door was open. It often is these days, with Anna going back and forth between our elderly neighbor's place and ours. Our door is at the end of a hallway, and we don't see it unless we're going in or out, so we just hadn't noticed. For about eight hours.

Scott closed the door and started to freak out. Where else could I be? Was I sleepwalking? Had my pillow and I been nabbed by reveling neighbors?

He eventually did recheck the beds and discovered my hide-out. He said it looked like a very awkward sleeping position. Which it was.

So, it took him a while to get back to sleep.

At some point in the early morning, I decided to get up and check the time. It was seven, so I went ahead and got the cinnamon rolls going. They were ready and perfect in plenty of time.

The church service was sweet.

We got a last-minute invitation from friends who had extra space for Christmas dinner and took them up on it. Their younger son and Justin are buddies, and I was so tired that I was happy to put our turkey dinner off for a day. We ate an amazing French meal, including our first Christmas goose.

There was no snoring, reveling, or planning last night, so we all slept very well.

And we had our small turkey dinner this evening.

Christmas Treats

Here's a picture from a recent sale flyer from our neighborhood grocery store. 

The flyer is filled with special Christmas treats including these cute little glazed ducklings and snowmen...

Now let's guess what they are made of...

Chocolate covered in caramel? Nope.

Ice cream? Nope. 

Cake with a drippy glaze? Not even close.

Here's a hint...it's on the meat page...yikes...

And the answer is...

Duck liver, of course.  Small rabbits, ducklings, and snowmen made out of duck liver. Only a euro fifty each.

I imagine that this is based on a traditional French delicacy, and I am trying to keep an open mind à la Babette's Feast. However, all of my American cultural baggage is screaming, "Small rabbits and ducklings should be made of chocolate, or at worst, marshmallow cream. Never, ever made of meat, and certainly not mashed up organ meat. Ever."

And I just don't think anyone should be eating those soulless snowmen.  Take another look at their scary, empty eyes. My sensitive child would weep if I served these up.

Merry Christmas from France!

Christmas in Nice

I still have limited access to the computer, but Anna is at a neighbor's place and Scott and Justin have snuck out for some last minute Christmas shopping. Woo hoo!

Last weekend we woke up at the crack of dawn, got ourselves over to the church at 8:15 a.m., our meeting time, walked over to the train station for our 9:00 a.m. meeting time, and finally got on a bus a good while after that to head to Toulon. We were going to see a musical in the evening, but there were to be activities and shows all day.

Our information was a little off though. We arrived, went through a very well-done nativity recreation, and then...nothing. We found a sunny spot out of the wind to eat outside at the edge of the parking lot and wondered how to entertain fifteen children for five hours.

An enclosure with some farm animals was set up where of course Anna was fully entertained. She eventually got to hold the baby goat for a while. We spied a ball stuck in a tree and got it down, so the boys played soccer. We eventually walked down to the port and then to the Christmas village, which is basically exactly like Nice's Christmas village except we don't have this...

This is  a man in fancy garb moving his arms in slow motion while his cats stay on his arms. I'll have to say that the kids were mesmerized. 

The other main entertainment was this...

...which was interesting, but a little creepy. At least one of them scared a small child by coming too close. Which begs the question, why would you have entertainment that scares children for Christmas?

Where are the elves, the reindeer, and Santa?

I think the answer is that Christmas is supposed to be magical here, and magical things can get a little creepy sometimes. And in fairness to the creepy Christmas village entertainment, plenty of kids are scared to death to sit on Santa's lap. If you are going to scare children for Christmas, the adults might as well be entertained by jazzy music.

Here's the snow from the snow machine, which gave off a copious amount.

Next will be French Christmas goodies...the next time I manage to nab the computer.

It's been a while.

We've had some computer problems, so have been sharing one computer (gasp) lately. We're hoping to fix this all in the next few days as we get a new hard drive in the mail and do some computer surgery.

The kids both had their Christmas shows last night--Anna's at 6pm, Justin's at 7pm. Anna's class was tri-lingual, singing in French, English, and Italian. Their English song was a jazzy version of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" which including jazzy choreography. Extremely cute.

Justin's class sang "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas" and the John Lennon Christmas song--"So this is Christmas". There were a LOT of songs in English during his show including an Abba song, the one about dreaming a dream and a new song to me, "Have a Rosy Christmas".

We stayed after Justin's to snack and chat while Anna looked in vain for a rose (roses had been passed out to the audience at the end of the Rosy Christmas Song). The combination of a very long day and the lack of a rose was not a good one, but a plate of spaghetti before bed and choosing gifts for her teachers cheered her up.

I was going to include some footage of Justin's class singing "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas." Anna did the filming and did some fancy camera choreography that adds a little zip to the song. Think Holly Jolly Christmas  as a roller coaster. Alas, the server is rejecting my video.

On another note, Justin's wrist is healing well after breaking it in two places a couple of weeks ago. He had a big cast for two weeks, and now has a smaller one just on his lower arm and wrist. He enjoyed being famous for a few days (since everyone wanted to know the details) and noted that adults all asked about how he did it, then proceeded to tell about times they broke bones.

Will try to fight for computer access over the coming days...

Forgotten in Puget sur Argens...

Since I last wrote about our weekly trip to Puget sur Argens, we had a couple easy trips and then others that have been borderline disastrous.

Two weeks ago, Scott went alone with Anna. I had parent teacher conferences with Justin's teachers that afternoon/evening. It had been a stormy week, with dangerous flooding in some areas, but there was no rain in Nice when they left. As they arrived in Puget sur Argens, they saw fewer cars on the road than usual, and there was no one at the office.

Turns out that there was a weather warning, and no one was to be on the roads. Our OT had lost her car in the flooding and was a little frazzled. So, Scott turned back towards Nice. Unfortunately, the promenade, which is the main road that runs alongside the sea, had closed because of enormous waves washing up from the beach. This backed up traffic so much that it took two and a half hours for them to get back.

The high point of their adventure was when they had to stop for a "bathroom" break for Anna along the promenade (before the part that was closed). There are three lanes of traffic, then a lane for parking, then the median, and then the traffic on the other side going in the other direction. So, they parked, Anna did her business, and they saw pebbles from the beach that had washed all the way onto the median--so over the beach front, the wide sidewalk, and the four lanes. Impressive. They collected a few as a souvenir.

Last week, the session was really difficult.  Anna was unable to do a new activity, and the rest of the session was a not too productive (I could write a whole post describing the whole thing, and 'not too productive' is an understatement). At least it was free because of the week before.

This week felt precarious. Anna was hesitant to go (Another understatement. Anna said she did not want to go, which was a vast improvement from a week ago when she said she was never, ever going back. Trying to be honest here...), but eventually all was well.

Until we got home. Scott was late to a church meeting because it had taken us an hour and a half to get back. So, I was trying to get Anna and all our stuff out of the car as fast as possible, and discovered that I did not have my purse. I had left it in the office.

I had the important things and light things sent, but my camera, which I almost always have with me, is taking a vacation in Puget sur Argens, as is my cell phone. And we don't have a session this week, so I have to wait till December to take pictures again.

Oh, and the basketball score for today--41 to 31, I think. They still lost, but did really well. It's improvement.

Basketball Report

This post was to be all about how Justin and his team finally won a basketball game. How after a four game losing streak, we cheered him to victory Saturday afternoon. Alas, (as Anna has been saying a lot lately), it was not to be.

Justin has a spy friend who plays in the same club as the opposing team. He had informed Justin last week that they were definitely beatable. At practice on Friday, the boys were upbeat and hopeful. Even as the teams were warming up pre-game, things looked good. Unfortunately, Justin's friend was a double agent underestimating his club-mates' skills.

It was bad. Not only the ending score--65 to 16, I think, but Justin was angry. He had played hard, and received all manner of bumps and bruises for his effort (the worst was the knees to the head as he was going for a ball).  The coach even took us aside after the game to recommend a homeopathic pain-reliever/bruise preventer for him.

And he was not only physically battered, but truly disappointed this time. It matters to him, which is what makes him a great player. He doesn't give up.

 I offered to make him whatever he wanted when we came home, so made our standard no-egg chocolate cake with marzipan paste rolled out on top. It helped some.

He was still under the weather Sunday morning, but had recovered by the afternoon. He had some strange pain behind his ear tonight, which momentarily freaked me out as I figured we had missed a concussion and he was now in real danger. But it looks like he got some kind of bite and a dab of cream did the trick.

Thank goodness the child doesn't play rugby.

History

Our church will be celebrating its 120th birthday next year, and we have a small committee that has begun to meet and plan for the celebration.

Our first step is tracking down and going through archives. Some are at the church, some are at a couple's home, and others are at more centralized locations.

Our pastor pulled a couple very old books out of a cabinet in his office when we met Monday. The first was this one...

It contains a record of baptisms, starting in 1892. 

One of our committee members began looking through the book. She seems to know just about everyone, and found her parents' baptisms and her own. If I remember right, her mother was baptized  in 1922. Her mother's seventeen year old signature was next to the pastor's. 

Another book contained a roster of members. There were a couple of official looking papers certifying membership during World War II. We wondered if they had been done to help protect Jewish families. There aren't any during any other time period in the book.

For now, I am just trying to get the history straight in my head, starting with the pastors. I know very, very little and have lots of reading to do. As we go through archives, I'll be trying to think of engaging ways to present the church's rich history to our church and community. I have some ideas, but have never tackled anything this huge. 

I have always been fascinated by history, and I know that I'll enjoy the process of researching, especially as a pamphlet or a picture sparks a memory and I am privy to decades-old recollections. 

Church Weekend

Since Friday was a holiday, we headed up to our church weekend in the mountains Thursday evening.

During this time of year, the mornings are clear and sunny, and the weather can turn  in the afternoon. So, outside activities took place in the mornings.

Much to the delight of the kids, our first major activity Friday morning was burning stuff.

Branches and leaves had been collected during previous work weeks and put in piles. But they were damp and needed a great deal of tending to actually burn.

Some people worked on raking leaves, some tended the fire, some stood around chatting (me). But Anna was totally into the yard work.

I guess as a city kid, the opportunity to play with fire for a few hours was too good to resist. There was adult supervision of the fire, mind you.

 She did a lot of hauling leaves and branches to the fire. Lots and lots. For hours.

In sensory processing language, this kind of activity is called a heavy work activity, and it's very good for her on multiple levels. Throughout the weekend, she would head out and fill up the wheelbarrow and push it around. If our yard was big enough, I would be thinking at this point about getting her wheelbarrow for Christmas. Just kidding, but still...

She worked so hard Friday morning that she said she was sleepy near the end of lunch. So we went up to our room to have a little rest and she feel fast asleep for a couple hours. I dozed off too (all that chatting, you know).

On another note, my computer is making an odd noise, so I'm taking it in to get it quieted down today. Hoping it doesn't take too long, but there may be no new posts for several days.

And the winners are...

Anonymous with the guess of 47 tables. Woo hoo!

The real answer is 124. Justin didn't think anyone should win since no one was close, but it's not his blog.

So, if anonymous would like to confirm by Facebook, I'll get the book in the mail (I'm pretty sure I know who anonymous is as there are just a handful (a lovely handful) of my family who say love ya).

By the way, the day that I counted was a cool, windy day, and it looked like rain was on the way. There were still plenty of people outside sitting at the tables. It's a French city kind of thing.

The kids and I are back from three days in the mountains at our church retreat, and there is no water in our apartment, in our building, nor in the other two apartment buildings next to us. They will be working on it tomorrow.

Fortunately, Scott always has a few water bottles filled. I managed to get three days of smoke, dirt, and grime off Anna with a large bowl of water (she doesn't really like the showers at the retreat center, so I didn't force the issue while we were there).

P.S. Just checked back this morning and found a few more entries, one of which was closer than 47. Since it was still Sunday evening in the U.S., I think Kathi D. with the guess of 52 should get a book  as well. So, Kathi D. can message Scott or me on Facebook, and we'll send the book your way.

Contest

The contest is officially over. The winners are anonymous with a guess of 47 and Kathi D. with a guess of 52. Thanks for participating! It made for extra excitement around here.

I've decided to have a little contest here in honor of my sister-in-law's birthday this week. Lisa married into the Harris family four months before I did. We've known each other for over twenty years now, and we are family.

Years ago, she decided that she wanted to write. So, she did what I can't imagine ever doing. She woke up in the wee hours of the morning, every morning, and began (it's the wee hours part that I can't imagine doing).

She has been published in many literary journals, and this is her first book....

Here's a short review of the book by my other amazing Harris sister-in-law, Pamela Wat:

"Through the Veil" is an American author's perspective of her years living in the Middle East. She seamlessly weaves together different narratives about the people/culture/history/experiences of the place where she lived and the people/culture/history/experiences of her own family and self. Each chapter has its own beginning and end and yet the book is a beautiful, cohesive whole. It offered a moving ending that provided closure, yet left me wanting more. Her thoughtful reflection brought out meaning and depth where I would not have expected. This book inspired me to live more deeply in my own experience and to take notice of the threads of my life and how they are interconnected with the lives of those seemingly-different from me. I thoroughly enjoyed this peek into the author's experience of living in Amman and surrounding areas, of birthing and raising children in a foreign land, of learning Arabic and of learning when to assimilate and when to stand out. This book is an important read for our time and I am changed for having read it."

The book was a 2011 Oregon book award finalist, so the recent copies have a cool blue sticker on them.

So, the contest--A few weeks ago, I wrote about my walk to pick up Anna from school.  This Monday,  I counted the café and restaurant tables on the sidewalk from the time I turn onto the main road, Boulevard Gambetta, until I arrive at school. The tables are all two person tables, some put together to make a table for four, but in that case, I still counted each individual table.

There are a few places that I pass that are on a corner, so the tables wind around the other side. In those cases, I counted the tables around the corner as well. 

I'm including all these details in case any readers in Nice are super motivated to venture out into the rain and count.

So, the question is: how may tables were there on Monday? Just leave your answer in the comments section.

We are leaving for a church retreat tomorrow afternoon, so I'll check the answers Sunday evening and announce the winner. The winner will receive a copy (likely with the blue sticker) of Lisa's book, Through the Veil. If you already have it, enter anyway and pass it on as a Christmas gift.