20 juin, 2018 – Lost Language Arts. Dying arts, a piece of the past that can be shared in love, received with intrigue and recalled nostalgically.

Lost Arts –

Substitute teaching this year was an eye opening experience.  To say things have changed is the understatement of the YEAR!

However…ah hello…where did cursive go?

What Happened To Shorthand & Cursive – 

Cursive, it’s gone.  It seems to have died the same slow death dealt to shorthand.  Dead, like shorthand.  Gone, quietly and unceremoniously.

I remember when shorthand was retired from the public school system in the early 80’s (at least where I went to school).  Poor ole girl – she fought a tough battle, but ultimately lost.  I’m sure there are people who continue to learn to use shorthand to some extent, but gone are the days of steno pads, and shorthand drills.

I however, still recall those glory days.  A product of the 60’s, I was so excited to get to High School in the fall of 1979 and  have my shorthand book issued to me.  Hysterically, basically the same book that my mother had used some 20 years earlier.

Photo of my mom’s book from about 1963 –

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Mom’s Book – 1960’s

Being the language freak I am (note, I did not say language guru), I was and am still amazed and intrigued by shorthand which, I consider a language.  There were a couple of methods if I recall – Pittman used in the UK and Gregg used in the US.

According to the internet, there are countries that teach shorthand for those students / professions that might find it useful.  And I’m sure there are some careers / professionals that do or would find it an advantageous and useful tool.  However, if you asked someone under 40 what shorthand is / was they would be hard pressed to respond.

Cool stuff that shorthand / sometimes call stenography.  I thought of it (shorthand) as a code.  I imagined myself a WWII code breaker, transmitting and deciphering secret war time messages.  I can still write I love you – see below.

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I Love You

Cursive An Endangered Species –

“You wrote your name in cursive, who taught you that?”  I asked.  “My grandma,” the 4th grader responded.  “Great job buddy!”  I enthusiastically replied.  

As a substitute, I’ve learned not to write my name on the whiteboard (not to be confused with a blackboard) in cursive, because the students can not read it if I do.

Just a few short years ago my children were taught and learned to write in cursive, I remember hearing rumors of it’s decline, but really paid it no mind.  It’ll never happened I thought to myself.  But now as my grandchildren have entered school I realize, it’s pretty much a done deal.  It’s gone!

I understand the rhetoric.  Just like I understood the all to similar rhetoric when shorthand was enjoying her final days.  Yet – it still saddens me.  MY grandchildren WILL NEVER KNOW HOW TO WRITE CURSIVE.  It’s up to me to pass this on.  If I don’t – it’ll be too late…

There’s So Much To Learn These Days – 

There’s so much for children to learn these days – I don’t even know where the educators would find time in the school day to plug cursive back in to.  I’m not even sure of the actual status of cursive (state to state), but I’m pretty sure it’s not part of today’s standards in my state.  An internet search will leave you unsure and you’ll find it a very heated and debated subject.

I’ve been so impressed with today’s teachers and students.  The teachers teach some amazing concepts.  And the students absorb these concepts at an incredible rate.  Far more advanced at a given age than I remember being.

Today’s standards are just that – today’s standards.  They are for the NOW.  They are relevant and solid and I have faith in the education system I witnessed this year.

Vintage Themes And Remembering That Change Is Progress – 

As much as I like vintage, I’m a big advocate for change.  Believing that change is progress and always proclaiming publicly – change is growth – change is progress.

I keep in my pocket a picture of the past a memory of long, long last.

There are things that can and should be shared and cared for and passed on in our lifetime.  Recipes, prayers, memories, trinkets, skills, quilts, and last but not least, cursive and shorthand.

Like the cold war, the typewriter and the film camera, cursive and shorthand are memories I have.  Memories, that my children and grandchildren don’t have.  And like the memories of my parents (the draft, Elvis, and the 57 Chevy) and of my grandparents (the great depression, the jitterbug, and WWII), each set subjective.  They are relevant only to OUR unique time here on earth.

The Truth Of The Matter Is –

Things change, they evolve, they fade.  Many traditions, arts, languages, customs, ways etc… are lost to progress or simply to time.

It’s understandable, but none the less sad.

Cursive is to today’s elementary school student what shorthand was to me.

It’s not rocket science and saving it will not end world hunger.  It’s a dying art, a piece of the past that can be shared in love, received with intrigue and recalled nostalgically.

I hope you enjoyed this look back – I know I did.

Pass something on!

Suz

16 juin, 2018. Feliz cumpleaños! LET GO. Living Alive. Where you go and what you do, may only make sense to you. To Dream – Rêver…

Rappelez-vous quand – 

Remember the time, we just LET GO.

In a few weeks we will set out to just LET GO, we have no plans – just a northern destination.  We are excited at what will be.  We will however, plan to bring sunscreen and bug spray.

Otherwise, we plan to LET GO.  Even though we have no plans, ironically, we do have plans to just LET GO.  

We plan to head north – to Quebec and speak French.  HOW EXCITED am I to speak French?  You have no idea.

No itinerary, just a destination.

And of course we plan to enjoy what we enjoy most – EACH OTHER!

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Remember the time we stumbled onto this….

Because of you I live a life in which I hope it last –

A cause de toi je vis une vie dans laquelle j’espere qu’ell durera.

Bonjour mes amies.  Comment ca va?  C’est juin. Ou est le mois de mai?  C’est fini.  Et maintenat l’ete est presque la.  Presque…

Live Alive – 

I want to live ALIVE.  I want to feel alive.  I love the newness of life, I love firsts.  I thrive on first days at work and truly enjoy meeting people for the first time.  Oddly enough, I even enjoy job interviews.

I described this oddity in my “Jack of all trade-ness, master of none-ness” blog:  July 14, 2017. Can I learn French AND simultaneously Train for a 50 mile ultra marathon? Oui! Bien sûr, Pourquoi pas?  

I noted how I dabble, rather than master.  And, I’m super cool with this.  However, I do admire those with longevity, whether it be career or hobby.  Yet for me, just call me JACK or JACQUES.  

To Dream / Rêver  

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I dream of here…

I’m a dreamer.  And I often remind myself to stop dreaming and just live.  Stop planning and just be.

Over planning can sometimes cause me to spin in place – where nothing gets done.  Hence the LET GO theme of our vacation. 

I try to live my dreams into life, into being.  And frequently, I do.  BUT what if we just lived life – for the mystery of it.  What if we just let the IT (life) be.

What if we stopped thinking about what’s around the corner, and we just turned the corner.

Avez-vous un rêve?  J’en ai beaucoup.  De quoi rêver-vous?

S’il vous plait dires-moi.

P.S.

Aujourd’hui, c’est l’anniversaire de mon ami. Joyeux anniversaire, Mon ami têtu. July 19, 2017. What’s a French word for Stubborn? Tête de mule. A secret running tale.

If you see this post, Feliz cumpleaños

I hope you have a wonderful, healthy year.  Thank you for being my WE.  I can always count on you.  Looking forward to our half marathon in September.

Suz

 

 

 

 

Mai 24, 2018. A Moroccan tajine finds a new home in KY. RUNNING with JOY at 52. Keeping the half marathon under 2 hours. BIGGEST medal on earth! GEIST Half Marathon Review.

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The gift of the tajine

Warning:  I use the word JOY a lot in this post.  As it perfectly describes my friends and my weekend run.

The gift of the tajine –

I watched as my two friends (one lives in Morocco and one lives in Paris) prepared our noon meal in my Kentucky kitchen in MY new tajine, hand carried all the way from Morocco.  I  watched as they carefully cleaned and chopped the fresh ingredients, all with JOY.  As they laughed and smiled, I was transported to Morocco.

The aromas – out of this world!

And the JOY they shared in preparing this meal – amazing.  From turmeric to saffron, my kitchen was alive.

The gift of the tajine made me feel so special.  What a sweet and thoughtful gift.  Hand carried and delivered with love.  These moments are the moments that make my life rich and full.

Here’s to one of the best meals I’ve had in my life And here’s to good friends who live life with JOY filled hearts – CHEERS!

Running with JOY and keeping the pace at 52.

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Ginormous Medal

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, Ninety-nine bottles of beer…  My go-to running song.  I sing to distract my self from the distance.

Although I love to feel the miles, running 13.1 miles does takes a while.  And keeping it under 2 hours has been my mission.  I’ve completed numerous half marathons over the last 10 years, and only two have been over 2 hours.  The first and second were 2:05 and 2:02, since then I’ve been able to stay under 2 hours.  The fastest in 2013 at 1:53 and the latest, this past weekend at 1:58.

Having not run a half marathon in 18 months, I was afraid and anxious to take on last weekend’s race.  I was afraid of the distance / pace ratio, and I was afraid of what the last 18 months of age might have dealt me.

Not only have I aged (luckily as the alternative is…not aging), in 2016 and 2017 I took on the ultra run.  I ran a marathon, a 60K and a 50 Miler.  I also completed a half ironman (70.3 miles – swim, bike, and run).  These longer distances presented new challenges – but the challenges did not include speed.

Returning to shorter distance this year, I found myself with questions.  Could I maintain, a 9 minute per mile or less pace for 13.1 miles?  Could I still run fast (my fast, not your fast)?  And why is staying under 2 hours so important to me?

As I ran the Geist half marathon, I found myself running with JOY.  I simply ran and I felt good.  No aches and pains.  No knee pain for the first time in several years.  I was however – cognizant the entire time of the pace I needed to maintain in order to meet MY goal.

I stayed in the mile and I truly enjoyed each mile.  When I reached mile 11, I knew I was going to come in under 2 hours and I was SO relieved.

The course was hilly and I love hills.  None of the hills were horrible, and each hill climb was followed by a downhill.  Sweet rewards.

Why is staying under 2 hours important to me.  Is there really a difference in running a 1:59:59 versus a 2:00:00?  I have no profound answers, I just know that I feel better when I stay under 2 hours.

I’m not setting any land speed records.  For me, it’s just what motivates me – it’s what keeps me running.

I also can’t run a sub 1:50 (YET), goals people – we all need goals.

My current goal is to simply run each half marathon under 2 hours.

Does it matter?  Nope.  And what happens when I eventually go over 2 hours?  Life will go on.  C’est la vie.  

BIGGEST MEDAL EVER – Geist Half Marathon

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As I crossed the finish line and the sweet girl handed me the finishers medal, I hoped I wouldn’t fall over from the weight of the medal.  This medal is HUGE.  If you are into hardware – this is your medal.  It can also be used to serve tapas (small Spanish dishes, served at bars).  This medal is my all time favorite.  It’s pretty, it’s sparkly and  the back can double as a mirror (according to my grandaughter).

The Geist half marathon in Fishers, Indiana was simply amazing.  The course was beautiful as was the weather.  The logistics were well thought out and the volunteers were top-notch.  I rarely do a half marathon twice – this one, I look forward to doing again.

I met an angel at mile 11.  Thank you to the runner who ran the last 2 miles with me.  I know we helped each other meet our goals and that’s what the running community is all about.

For all I know you were a real angel sent to save my day.  If so, job well done.  If not, congrats on meeting your goal!  I however, prefer to remember you as an angel.  More fun this way!

Mon Amie –

Your visit brought JOY to my life and house.  Your laughter, kindness, and child like heart have taught me much.  You live life with such happiness.  I admire you.  And I seek to imitate you – as the highest form of compliment.

Your family is beautiful.  Your love for each other radiates.  YOU are always welcome.

Thank you for your patience as I spoke French.  And thank you for several new phrases – I’m looking forward to using them in France.

My brain was exhausted from speaking French, but in just a few days I improved so much.  Conversation is the key – I hope we have many more.

Until we meet again – on the trails in Morocco or in the streets of Paris.  I will practice LIVING.  I will seek out new trails, paths, streets and adventures.  I will focus on JOYFULL living and I will learn to use my tajine as a way to recall our time together.

À bientôt,

Suz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mai 5, 2018. New Dots Emerging – Le Tri / To Sort. Learning To RUN Like No One Is Looking. Struggling With Old PRs.

Is that not the perfect picture?

Bonjour mes amies.  Comment allez vous!  Moi, ça va très bien.  Il fait chaud aujourd’hui ici et je cours finalement dans au soleil. J’aime le soleil.

Je aussi aime dire les mots en français commes –  tous les jours et finalement.

Le temps passe trop vite! L’annee derniere en France:

paris
Is that not the perfect picture?
charente maritime

Ile d’Oleron – Charente Maritime.  Deep tides mesmerize.

Emergent –

I see the new dots brightly flashing on the horizon. Each one enthusiastically waving “pick me, pick me.”

See previous post for more on these dots.

Mais, lequel choisir? Je ne sais pas!

Pour moi, pour la première fois, je suis arrêté et je sens les roses.

And it feels amazing!  I’ve never paused like this and once this pause ceases I most likely won’t pause again for another 10 years.

Est-ce que beaucoup de stress? Un peu. Parce que je n’ai jamais arrêté comme ça avant.

Donc, j’écris. L’écriture m’aide à faire le tri dans ma tête.

It’s actually quite euphoric, this pausing, once you let go and just be.  I’m excited for the future and what is yet to be.  Today, I live each day fully, slowly and with intention.

Forming new mental muscles, routines and habits.

Le Tri –

As I often do when I read, write, study French I once again stumble amongst the words.  This  time it’s the French word le tri that holds my gaze.  Le Tri, means to sort and I am suddenly reminded of my younger days as a army medic and the word triage.  I google triage and le tri and am once again lost in time – lost in reading – lost in discovery.

I use the word lost here in a positive way.  J’aime lire, mais – it is a time sucker.

Then I realize I am triaging my life right now. Sorting out what I want to keep and what I no longer need.

Determining what is most important – most vital.

Unconventional methods of learning French (writing) serve me best.  A planned vacation to Quebec this summer (super, super excited) should provide some much needed conversational / verbal practice.

And then it will be time for me to un-pause – peut être

Still holding out for that chance encounter and cool opportunity to travel and work abroad.  

Until then, to the emerging dots I say, “I see you and I am sorting through you, be patient.”  Smelling the roses, realigning  priorities, and triaging.

Courir-

Returning to my beloved running is also serving me well.  After a long winter, I am finally feeling half way decent about running.

I’m a solid month behind in training, but am running with a new sense of peace.

Still struggling with my speed after a few years of long distance running and now finding myself forgoing events because I don’t want others to see this slow down.

C’est la vie! C’est la vie! C’est vrai! C’est ce que c’est et c’est fantastique – cette vie!

The first half-marathon of the season (for me) is in two weeks.  I so want to be able to keep the pace under 9 minutes per mile.  I’m afraid of this pace for 13.1 miles – so starting today, it’s all visualization “I can run 13.1 miles at a 9 minute per mile pace!”

Oui je peux! Avec du café!

Gauging my strength at the moment I would say that I am too slow for an age group award 5K, not quite strong enough for a half marathon distance under 2 hours, but feeling 10K ready (where you can better balance the speed with the distance).  There is a 10K near by tomorrow, but I really need to run 12 to 13 miles so my body and my mind remembers what this particular distance feels like.

I’m also not ready for others to see me run.  I’m learning to run like no one is looking – with peace in my breath and joy in my heart.

I’m learning…I have not yet learned this.

Does anyone else struggle with keeping up with old PRs (Personal Records)? 

Au revoir pour maintenant mes amies.

Suz.

 

Avril 4, 2018. Exploring Crêpes And The Crêpe Suzette. Cultural Kitchen Clashes From France to Kentucky.

 

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Crêpes And Crêpe Suzette – 

It’s only fitting I explore the Crêpe Suzette.  Since it’s named after MOI and full of sugar and butter and brandy.  Comme moi sans brandy.

Exploring the recette / recipe, I watched several videos including the Julia Child video on Smithsonian.com.  What a character, she so seemed to have lived her life full.

Last month while my husband was visiting France sans moi, he and his Mother, bought me (upon my request) the most awesome crêpe  pan.  Crêpes are a French food that we really have never explored in our home.  I’m sure my husband had them many times growing up, but to be honest, we just make pancakes – even when ma belle mère visits.

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I remember one of the first times, I made a BIG American breakfast for my French in-laws.  Canned laughter plays in the background of this memory.  I made fried eggs, bacon, sausage gravy and biscuits and of course American pancakes topped with peanut butter and syrup.  Most likely it was the peanut butter that provoked the grimaces and looks of confusion – although, it could have been the biscuits smothered in thick milky sausage gravy.  All served with a side of ketchup.

One of the major cultural differences between us was and still is – la cuisine.

Blending – 

I grew up in the late 60’s and 70’s in a suburban area just south of Detroit, Michigan with a Irish, German and Polish Mother and an Irish, Scottish Father who had been born and raised in Kentucky.  This common for the time classic American mixture and coupling made for extremely exciting childhood memories – mostly involving love, laughter, quick tempers, obsessive cleaning, cabbage, kielbasa and scotch whiskey.  It also yielded my fiercely protective Mother and my know-it-all Father who eventually flew the coop.

In addition, many interesting foods were made and shared over the years as I visited each uniquely distinct set of Grandparents.  On any given Sunday, we might enjoy pierogis at lunch, then beans and corn bread in the evening.

Flashing forward, I see how my personal cooking style was influenced.  As the years passed, I continued the traditions by sharing family recipes and flavors with my children and grandchildren all the while tossing in my half French husband’s roots and tastes.

I recall many happy Saturday mornings – watching Tom & Jerry cartoons and Abbott and Costello re-runs, and waiting for the pancakes and peanut butter.  Then heading out on my bike for the entire day.  Hours later, arriving back at home, I’d run into the kitchen, grab a spoon and thrust it into the peanut butter jar – just a little snack before dinner.

No one can make a steak, BBQ a pork butt, or roast corn on the cob, like an American.  There is also fine cuisine and many fantastic chefs in America and I personally love our eclectic menu.

Kitchen Cultural Clashes –

However, after 30 plus years of blending mine with his – I still can’t get ma beau-père (father-in-law) to try corn on the cob.  When I make it – he will occasionally (very occasionally) slice it off the cob or skip it all together.  And it’s not a denture issue.  For him, it’s more about the actual practice of eating corn on the cob.  And the fact that he is 86 and set in his ways.

Mostly he revels in new experiences – having traveled the globe.  But the peanut butter and corn on the cob (not eaten together, although… I might give it a try) have proven to be too much for him.  Oh and my use of ketchup, doesn’t everyone put ketchup on scrambled eggs and steak?

Buerre De Cacahuètes / Peanut Butter –   

Shown below, made with my new crêpe pan, delicious Crêpes avec et sans le beurre de cacahuètes / peanut butter.

We did not flambé le crêpes today – we are reserving the Cointreau for the weekend.

Crêpes with peanut butter and hazelnut spread and we may or may not have added a bit of maple syrup.

Délicieux / Delicious.

Bonne Appétit – Suz!A333A23A-A732-4CB8-A231-5BA5AE597B7F

 

Mars 29, 2018. Mot de la semaine or Word of the week: Attendre / To wait. And waiting for God’s next move.

663E320B-FFC4-4FD3-8E3E-D14FCBAB116FBonjour mes amies – des fleurs pour vous.  Les fleurs sont un signe du printemps.

Nous attendons le printemps.  Nous attendons l’ete.  Nous attendons l’automne.  Nous attendons l’hiver.  Nous attendons et nous attendons et nous attendons.  

Nous sommes simples.  Nous sommes minuscules.  Nos esprits sont petits

Arreter!  Vous perdez votre temps.

Waiting on God’s next move –

We are all so simple, all so small – if only we could comprehend Your magnitude.

Attendre / To wait –

The French verb that means to wait for or to await.

It is one of those false friends as it does not mean to attend – but looks like it should.  And is derived from the Latin (vulgar versus the classical) word Attendō.

French / attendre.  Italian / attendere.  Spanish / attender.  All derived from the same vulgar Latin word.

Always fascinated with languages and more so word origins, it’s difficult for me to read.

When I read (especially in French), I frequently stop on a word – examine it’s structure and think about its possible origin.  Happening upon words and losing myself in their thoughts.

According to the website wordsense.eu, the alternative (vulgar) Latin form of attendo is adtendo and its origin and history derive from ad + tendo (meaning to stretch and extend).

As stated on the website, the word was used in relation to the stretching of a bow, when taking aim at a target.

I can see this bow in my mind, wait for it…wait for it…  I think as the string is pulled back and the arrow released…  Attendo…Attendo… as the arrow flies through the air…bull’s-eye!

Many times I’ve heard the word of the week (attendre) used in France.  Mostly when someone is aggravated or they need someone to stop doing something quickly.  Oh and always while entering a Rond Point.

Here’s a ramble for you –

To focus on living in the present – we must wait.  And while we wait – we must live.  And while we live – we must not focus on the wait.  Round and round we go in this circle.

Recently, I remarked to my sister how I’ve stopped planning and am just waiting for God’s next move.  I then continued by saying how even though I was waiting for God’s next move, I was silently waiting for his move to include sunshine and exciting cool people who speak French.

As I spoke the above, I was immediately struck by how ignorant I am.  I say I trust God, but I silently wish.  This is so bizarre.  Is my simple and small human brain trying to manipulate God?  Then I hear Him, and He reminds me that He is so much bigger than I can comprehend.  And that I’m okay and it’s okay if I wish (or better yet pray).  Because as He explains, He’s got it.  He’s got it all.  He’s that BIG.  And I should seriously relax.

As I continue to let go of my worries, I find a calm that I welcome.  A freeing sense of peace.  And at the same time an excitement at what He has in store next for me.

And yes, I still hope it includes sunshine and exciting cool people who speak French.

Suz learns French while she runs –

This week’s running went… I simply ran.

I ran after not running for 2 weeks.  I was able to hold a 9 minute pace for 3 miles.  But can I do this for 13.1 miles?

My goal is to run each half marathon under 2 hours.  The last half marathon I ran – I pushed that limit and ran a 1:58.  Cutting it close.

And now, I have less than 2 months to get in shape as I attempt to stay under two hours.

This is the my personal benchmark.  And it’s what I strive for, but as I age, should I cut myself some slack?  I may need to come May.  But I will try to stay under 2 hours.

I have 2 major events planned for May and after a long winter, I have a lot of catching up to do.

As I run, my thoughts are only on my breath – no French is spoken as I gasped for air.  My face is red, the others asked me if I am okay.  “I’m okay, I’ve just not been running like I should,”  I respond.  I’ve been waiting for the rain to stop and the sun to shine.

When the sun finally shows its face – the green will be so green and the blue will be so blue.

No more waiting.  Juste be – OH AND RUN so you can meet your personal goal.

Attendre – 

Nous attendons le printemps. Nous attendons l’ete. Nous attendons l’automne. Nous attendons l’hiver. Nous attendons et nous attendons et nous attendons.

Nous sommes simples. Nous sommes minuscules. Nos esprits sont petits

Arreter! Vous perdez votre temps. 

Suz

 

Mars 6, 2018. Mot de la semaine or Word of the week: Seul / Seule / Alone. Et finalement… Je parle!

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Bonjour mes amis.  Je suis seule mais…pas seule.  Parce que nous sommes ensemble pour toujours dans notre cœurs. 

Interesting take on some time alone:

The last two weeks saw me alone.  Seul / seule – as my husband spent time in France with his Mother.

I had a list of things to do, but I managed to avoid all of them.

I realized that after 33 years together – I don’t do seul / seule very well.

Now, don’t get me wrong the first half of our lives together we spent many days, weeks, and months apart – once a whole year.  But for the last 15 years we have been constant companions.

I knew it would be hard to be alone, but I was most surprised at how I really didn’t know where or how to start the day.

I’m sure that after a few more weeks on my own, I’d fall into a better routine.  But, I seriously feel I wasted the last two weeks.  I took a few days to visit my own mother,  yet even there I found myself waiting for the next phone call.

As a couple we have fallen into a wonderful space.  I do these things and he does those things.  Together it all gets done.  I call these things “pink and blue jobs.”  Pink for girl jobs and blue for boy jobs.

Garbage is a blue job, coffee is a blue job.  Laundry and grocery shopping are pink jobs.  When I look at the division of “our” things, I realize just how traditional we might be labeled.  I also realize there are more blue jobs.

The one thing I did do the last two weeks was think.  I thought a lot and I really think I should make the coffee more often.  A little humor stirs within me, because we both know that won’t happen.  However, I now know how to make coffee.  Will I tell anyone?  Probably not.

Albeit traditional, it works for us.  I missed us / nous.  And I look forward to being us / nous again.

We can be “I’s” and still be “us”.  So intertwined with love.  You are the peace I sought.  You are the sweet relax at the end of the day.

As long as we are always reaching for the “us” before the “I’s”, we will be fine.

Et finalement, How’s that French coming?

Tres bien.

Last week, I had the opportunity to speak French.  You would not believe how well I spoke.  AND my accent was even complimented!  VRAIMENT!

I now know for sure – immersion is the key to language learning.

I just ADORE the French language.  Not sure where all of this will lead, but I so enjoy the process.

What do you see for you and me:

Mon Amour

I see us in France.

I see us drinking the wine and tasting the sea.

Je vois toi et je vois moi.  Je vois nous ensemble – juste toi et moi.

Suz