Some shots from Norwich at Christmas
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Tag Archives: Europe
Apartment in Rome
I love seeing how other people live around the world so in that spirit I caught a few pictures of the flat we rented in Rome to share with you. The white walls were so nice. The white sofa….less nice. I think I am officially over my white slipcover obsession. Ok not really but they'd need daily washing in my world and I AM over that.
It was a wonderful sunny bright space. Definitely Euro-sized but fabulous for our needs.
(elevator going down past the window and from the front, entering)
a walk around St. John’s
St. John's church sits nestled among high coastal meadows by the sea. The weather was rather bleak the whole ride there. The rain let up just as we arrived. My husband went to scope out the trail to decide if it was an ok idea yet. While he did that I was was able to check out the church and cafe a bit. And convince a boy he could ask the cafe people directions to the restroom. It's the little victories in life. ; )
at the cabin
This has been home-away-from-home during my absence in this space lately. Mornings spent reading with steaming mugs nearby. Days spent hiking. Evenings full of exploring all the nooks and crannies of the eco-friendly farm which surrounded us.
Our host was a fascinating man with a heart for adventure. Quintessentially British, he sported a mop of curly untamed ginger hair and wore a button down shirt with rolled sleeves, glasses, and belted trousers tucked into gum boots. He welcomed our crew enthusiastically and showed the children all the possibilities waiting for them on the farm – bikes, badminton, ponds, and a real treehouse. He explained why the farm was a proper nature reserve and not just a vacay spot. He then showed us where the best hiking was and where to find the ponies I had my heart set on seeing.
Before embarking on the guest farm adventure he had spent many years in Africa as a safari guide. We swapped stories of travel and military life. He had fond memories of US Marines who shared music and cola and conversation in a far away place in the days before computers and ipods. His feet are planted on English soil again but he said Dartmoor was his wild. I get that. I need my wild too and we found it on this trip for sure, thanks to his maps and inside tips.
(just looking – we didn't eat them)
And now it's midnight and the day starts early here. I hope yours are also full of fresh air and wet boots.
Smile because it happened
There she was, that nanny goat, as we turned into the marketplace full of Easter revelry. She arched her blonde neck to nibble the last bits of grain from one wrinkled hand. Moira and I tried to coax the little girls in close to feel that soft nose, to see the sleepy burro in the straw. Oh, they stepped in a bit. Tentatively.
They don't remember.
Their world is so new that their memories don't reach back beyond these cobblestones. Tess talks of loving to ride the horse, but it is not our horses she speaks of. It is the pony ride tent she recalls. For a minute my knees are weak.
It wasn't so long ago. I sat on an upturned bucket and ran my hand along the side of doe like this one, coaxing milk from a warm udder and knowing exactly how long I had to work before the feed was eaten and she'd stomp impatient. If I close my eyes I can feel the metal handle of the water bucket, hear the bleating of goat kids in the stall nearby.
It wasn't so long ago. And it was good.
Things are different today. We stand here with these girls peeking between old boards. Another farmer will gather this flock in tonight. My husband and I will gather our own little flock into a yellow house at the edge of a village some 5,000 miles from a barn in Colorado. While they sleep we pore over pictures of houses in yet another country, wondering which we will find ourselves in this summer.
This too is good.
Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned these past two yrs is that happiness is not wedded to a place nor a circumstance. It is not frozen in time. It is fluid and changing and can pour out of its old containers to fill up entirely new spaces. Even to overflowing. I think I didn't know this for sure until I left.
I leave here with something I didn't have when I came. Faith. Faith that happy isn't just a fluke. It can happen again. And again. Just like challenges. I don't know where we are going exactly but I feel sure there is good there and we will find it.
Still, I hope that just maybe, there will be another day when I turn a corner a England and see a nanny goat.
Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. - Dr. Suess
Evening Walk on the Karlův Most
There was a break in the misty rain that second night in Prague. Our apartment was quite near the Charles Bridge, close enough that after the littles were tucked into bed with the big girls we could step out for a short walk together.
The Charles Bridge connects the Little Quarter in Prague with the Old Town across the Vltava River. By day, vendors line the sides of the bridge with souvenirs and artwork. After nightfall, there is a hush over all. Couples stroll quietly, looking across the gently flowing water towards the illuminated landscape beyond.
Walk with me, and I will show you…..
Postcards from Luxembourg
For many centuries Luxembourg was one of the great walled cities of Europe. The massive fortification began in the 12th century although excavations show the area had been settled since the 4th century. The walls were enlarged yet more in the 15th through the 17th centuries, thus earning it the name The Gibraltar of the North. There are still a number of casemates remaining underground but sadly they were not open when we were there. We hope to return someday with more of the little ones. It truly was a fairy tale city.
Winter Walking with Abbie Rose
It's different this year. There is no more stroller in front of me. I am keenly aware of its absence I admit. For over a quarter century I have followed behind the wheels. But in place of the familiar hum of the axles spinning there is now a pair of tiny boots skipping, jumping, twirling. There are two bitty hands reaching, digging, pointing, sharing. Treasures in hand, she trips along the trail joy-filled and breathless checking every puddle and ditchside weed. And I am right behind, soaking it all in.
Someday – too soon – she will venture farther than I can follow. For today, though, we walk together. I am grateful for every step.
As we walked this day I felt a coin in my coat pocket. (pictured above) It wasn't a Euro and the saint caught my eye. When I came home I looked it up. It is Bulgarian and commemorates St Ivan of Rila (Rilski). You can see it here. Allen or Zach must have picked it up in Poland, Czech Republic, or Turkey is our best guess. Just made me laugh. How crazy that this is my life! I am grateful for this too. : )
Starry Sky Journal 