Grey's Anatomy and Halloween

As much as I have been present here, gratefully enjoying our European life, I have been harboring secret hankerings for home, especially in fall. There's a gorgeous fall kind of feel here, too, but there are certain ways that the seasons express themselves that are culturally bound--at home we have jack o lanterns and Halloween, the pilgrims and corn husks, football games and, of course, TV shows getting going again. I'm not a huge TV watcher--we weren't allowed much growing up and usually we were too busy anyway. But I'm certainly not above it, and this fall season in Europe I've allowed myself the guilty pleasure to watching Grey's Anatomy to assuage the nostalgia. Gretchen and Mike, our Minneapolis/Maastricht friends who know what it's like to live here enjoying Europe while retaining something of one's American-ness, gave us Grey's Anatomy on iTunes--you can tell they had a year here to learn these kinds of things, thank you guys! As lately Ryan's worn himself out traveling and working, I've used his early to bed evenings to catch up on the Grey's Anatomy I've missed. It's been lovely. So too has getting ready for Ellie's Halloween party for her school, which will be held at an old castle nearby. Costumes are on tomorrow's agenda, so expect pictures soon. Happy October, everyone!

Maastricht as home

As we host family and friends (my folks left Sunday, Sara and Donovan have been here this week, Kim is coming next week), Maastricht and the surrounding countryside feel like home. We are growing to love its mix of old and new architecture, its relaxed pace and warm people, rich traditions and open attitudes, the way the Maas River winds through the city and the way our little lives fit in here. Here's are a few eclectic images of what home looks like to us these days. Wishing you all peace as autumn rolls along . . . love to all.

Let Evening Come, by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon shine through chinks in the barn, moving up the bales as the sun moves down.


Let the cricket take up chafing as a woman takes up her needles and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned in long grass. Let the stars appear and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den. Let the wind die down. Let the shed go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop in the oats, to the air in the lung let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.

Finally in France-- Lyons de Foret

Our last morning we said good-bye to our place on the Seine and went to a village set in the middle of an ancient beech forest. We wandered through the tiny village and went to a 9th century abbey nearby to have crepes at the adjoining cafe before driving home. Au revoir et merci beaucoup France! We loved our time in there, but it was good to be back in Maastricht.

France, continued--Rouen and Les Andeleys

The next couple days we explored various corners and cuisines of Normandy. Rouen is where Joan of Arc was burned as a heretic--here's the church, part of it in the shape of her helmet, built on the site she died. Les Andeleys has a beautiful ruined castle that was built by William the Conqueror.

Paris (sideways!)

We took a train to Paris, where in a whirlwind we saw the Eiffel Tower, Le Louvre (outside only), Notre Dame and a few cafes throughout the day. Mom and I walked midway up the Eiffel Tower while Dad and Ellie played in the park. Paris was especially festive that day as France had just beaten New Zealand in the World Cup. It was a little taste of what is obviously a fabulous city--we'll get back there some day. I can't get Blogger to let me straighten out these pictures today--sorry about the sideways views!!

France--getting there and getting around

Back in June when my folks planned their trip we didn't know that the final week they were to be here Ryan would have to be in Minneapolis, so we planned a week in Normandy. We were all bummed that Ryan couldn't go, even more so because that meant I had to drive myself. I was relieved, however, to have good company and a fun week ahead. Before driving to Brugges, I had never ventured even within Maastricht by car. But having conquered Belgian traffic just days before, we set our little GPS to a remote address in Normandy where my parents' time share association has a chateau. There is no way on earth that we would have found the place had we not had GPS--we traveled down tiny winding roads through valleys and up hills on roads with widths barely enough for one car until suddenly there it was, on the banks of the Seine about 100 miles west of Paris. It was a cozy place made all the better with a bridge to an island in the river that had a park on it.

Like Brugges (and quite unlike Maastricht), we were on our own linguistically--this was definitely France, where seldom is heard an English word. Thank goodness for Madame Vergie Asper, French goddess of Austin High School. She honestly is the best language teacher I've ever seen, so I'm a lucky duck to have been under her tutelage oh so long ago. Everyone was kind and encouraging with my decade-old French that, when the words failed me, quickly became Swahili. As the week progressed, French came back more and more until, in Lyons de Foret, a woman told me I had a great French accent (and then seemed to wonder why more words weren't available to me--I had sounded fluent only a second ago). I'm sure she was being generous, but a big shout to Madame Asper--merci beaucoup for the pronunciation drills-- and Elodie (Elsa) for helping me (Aurelie) tend the dramatic French flame all those years ago! But a little attempt at the language goes a long way. For example, the first evening of our arrival we struggled to find a grocery store a few villages away and a kind woman who'd struggled long enough to understand my Franco-Swahili simply got in her car and lead us to the store. The week was full of kind folks doing things like that. The only sour apple was, ironically enough, at a tourist office!!

Anyway, once cozily set up in our little chateau apartment, we spent the Sunday in Giverny, where Monet's house and gardens are located. Lovely, lovely.

Brugges

A word to you wise coming to Europe . . . don't drive if you can train it. Case in point. The next week we decided mid-week to head to Brugges, a gorgeous medieval Belgian city full of chocolate and canals. Supposedly only 2 hours by car, but 2 1/2 to 3 by train, Ryan arranged to hitch a ride to work with a co-worker and we got up early to beat the crowds, leaving Maastricht before 7. It took us over 4 hours to arrive (and over 3 to get back!), but once there we have a lovely time mostly walking and eating. Was it worth the 7 hours in the car? Don't ask me . . . I'm not the one who sat in the back and had to read "Fly Guy" to Ellie about 100 times while we moved 10 kilometers in an hour and a half. But we did score some fabulous chocolate.