More pictures from Mom's visit

Kate looks a little better this morning, and is happily nestled in watching British cartoons. Still hoping to head to the Loire this afternoon!

In the meantime, I downloaded pictures from John's little camera. Here are a few more shots of the last few days with Mom and Sharon.

I never thought this day would come...

...but it has. Today marks the first day that I have officially had my fill of French cheese.

It took coming to the French Alps (through the Jura, home of the stinky and wonderful Mont D'Or) to get to this point. But the home of fondue, raclette, and tartiflette (which my friend Geraldine wrote about, in English, on her blog) has led to this sorry, sad state.

To counter all the deliciousness of this region, John and I did the only thing we could think of doing when given the chance to go out to eat tonight while Kathy and Alex watched the kids. We headed straight for a Japanese restaurant.

And it was great. I don't think miso soup has ever tasted as good as it did tonight, after spending a few days under the spell of the Savoy region's specialties, which seem to have been created to eat after days of hiking and skiing (and not just meandering around town, walking to an awesome ice cave, or taking a tram -- pictures to follow after we get home tomorrow).

And as I happily plucked pieces of salmon with soy and ginger with my chopsticks (snitching bites of John's sushi from time to time), I felt like things had come full circle. In Japan, given the chance I headed straight for the wonderful French restaurant across the street. Now in France, given the chance (and at last too much cheese), I returned to Japan -- at least for one night.

The beauty of Burgundy (and at last -- Ireland pictures!)

Most of my growing up years were spent in a small mountain town in Colorado. It was beautiful in many ways and for many reasons (the view of Pike's Peak, the shimmering aspen trees, the true-blue sky and year-round sunshine, stars that go on forever). But the high altitude and the almost non-existent spring and only slightly-longer fall didn't really allow for an appreciation of the changing of the seasons. That lesson -- especially the wonder of welcoming in spring -- didn't come until I left for university in the Pacific Northwest (where I remember calling my parents to proclaim "The trees here have FLOWERS on them! Blooming! All over the place!") and then later for Philadelphia (where I called my parents to announce "The dirt in our backyard is BLACK! And we didn't even have to buy it! It just comes that way!").

Well, this week is showing us that Burgundy knows how to do seasons just as well as any place I've ever lived. It is springtime here in every sense of the word. Everywhere I turn, there are bursting flower buds, lush green fields, quick moving rain showers, and the wonderful damp smell of things growing. The world is waking up -- and we are, too.

I think my favorite view right now is out the kitchen window, where this gorgeous cherry tree has been adding new flowers every day. The violets covering the path up to the top of Mount-St-Victor (aka Coconut Mountain) are a close second. The golden daffodils and pastel tulips, the bright yellow forsythia, the moss and green fields and vineyards... well, they're not so bad either.

We are feeling very, very lucky indeed (and hearing of a long chinook -- multiple days of 80 km/hr wind -- in Lethbridge only makes us appreciate this more.)

***

And as promised -- a few (dozen) pictures from the Ireland trip. We started at Bunratty Castle:

But we went straight to the folk park and had lunch at a pub. Lamb stew for me, fish and chips for John... the first of many many potatoes we would eat in a quick visit.

We stopped to say hello to real Irish wolfhounds.

And toured lots of great old cottages, workshops, barns and shops (loving the thatched roofs).

 

After lunch, we toured the castle, which dates from the 1400s and is quite impressive. One of the many interesting points -- there are tiny little stairs to the nursery, so if that castle was attacked, they'd send the children (and a small woman or two) up to their rooms, and the big men in all of their shining armor couldn't get up the stairs, at least not right away...

We did talk to the kids about firearm safety after their fun peering in the cannon of the ship in Bristol... but they still had to take a look here.

We crossed a real moat and drawbridge to enter.

The kids took their places at the head table in the Great Hall

And after climbing up (and up and up) the tiniest spiral staircases, we arrived at one of the towers. Unfortunately we then had to go down (and down and down)... and then did it again (just to get a different view).

And here are a few other pictures from our quick trip... enjoying a Guiness, an Irish whiskey, and lots and lots of potatoes. The picture of the pub "Kathleen" is for my aunt, the original Superchicken in Chicago.

Both girls became somewhat reluctant to have their pictures taken on this trip (we called it "being Amish"). I love this photo of Katie with that big pouty lip... a few second later, she was smiling.

After our whirlwind visit, we flew back to Beauvais, north of Paris, and had a great walk around the city Tuesday night (which is home to a beautiful cathedral). Here are a few shots from that part of the trip as well. And despite the strike interruptions, we DID make it "home" (as our French village house does feel like home by now) and we are all happy to be here -- at least for a few days!