My most prized possession wasn’t handed down to me from generations, packaged in a fancy box, or delivered by a stork. (Actually, it would require two different storks and to pick one would be unfair so for the purposes of this assignment I’m skipping that.) It wasn’t delivered by a child’s hand or a newly ringed finger. (Because I love my husband, I don’t own him.) It is not a gift I received with curling ribbon in my hair or a hat on my head, unless you count my high school and college graduation hats. 

The ability to speak French has provided me endless opportunities to travel and meet new people. These opportunities give my life purpose, meaning, and adventure. For these reasons, French is my most prized possession.

(Rather than write out the events, I’ve chosen to use a timeline. I’ll expand the stories in time. Sorry, no pics. Yet.)

1971- Little bald baby listens to French Canadian radio in rural upstate New York

1986-Scrawny girl finds her identity in high school French class

1991- Girl declares French major in college

Sept. 1993- Girl heads to France for study abroad program

  • Travels alone in France for ten days. It took five days before she called her worry-sick mom.
  • Picks grapes and cuts her finger. Still has scar on her pinky.
  • Oct. 24-Turned 21 and could legally drink, except she already could in France.
  • Nov.1- Is locked (due to a broken lockset) in a French bathroom for four hours.

1998- Girl and husband go to Paris. He falls in love with it as much as she had.

2000-Husband takes pregnant wife to Paris before baby is born. Funny Article about getting sick.

2001-Husband, baby, mom-wife go to Italy. (This doesn’t involve French, but it gets interesting.)

  • 9-11-2001 Husband, baby, mom get stuck in Amsterdam for eight days.
  • We have to buy new clothes for the baby. Mom wears same clothes all eight days and throws them out as soon as she’s home.
  • We are the first tourists to visit the Heineken brewery twice in one vacation.

2002-Husband, toddler, pregnant mom go to Nice, France.

2003- Baby #2 is born. Nothing exciting happens for a few years.

2007-Family goes to Nice, France.

  • We are in a small bus crash. Mom has to detail the event to the police.

2009-Family goes to Paris. Meets new friends who invite us to Marseille.

2010

  • Mom volunteers for Alliance Française and meets a lot of people.

2011

  • We have French exchange student at our house.
  • Family goes to Marseille. We get stuck in a traffic jam for two hours.

June 2012-Mom and husband go to Amsterdam for a friend’s concert.

  • She meets Jack White.
  • Husband-wife duo go to Nice, France.
  • They discover they’re beaching in front of Bono’s (U2) house.
  • July 4th- Flight delays bring them home to their kids two days late.

Dec. 2013- Family goes to Paris for Christmas and visits friends.

The future remains uncertain….

 

 

 

 

 

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Todays challenge: Address one of your fears with style.

 
 
I see her peering from the sheer white curtain. Who does she think she’s fooling? Nothing is hidden from me, I’m the telegram man. 
TheTelegramMan.001
 

O morning cup thy vice with anticipation I yearn

Whilst stewing and steaming upon the hissing urn

Liquid life poureth from thence unto then

’tis passed eager lips yet again and again

IMG_4932
His and hers coffee

 

 

 

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Posts with this logo are an experiment. Read with love.

How stripped your souls must be to remove the binding element of man. Music is more than a profiteer’s quest for money. It is more than a wager for airplay on the radio, Pandora, or Spotify. And it is more than a festival removed out of industry greed. Reducing the integrity of music to these factors denies the entirety of mankind to the treasure that is rightfully, bountifully, and historically theirs.

The value of music should not be colored with red or black ink. The worth is found in its history of communion: a mother’s first note sung to her newborn child; a front porch gathering of neighbors on a Tuesday night; boyfriends strumming to girlfriends, and a campfire’s tale of camaraderie. Music is a group of friends on a Friday night, a lonesome song in the desert, a mountaintop chorus, and a church full of praise. It’s a music hall, a three day festival, a lonely room, and a night of a lifetime .

We who stand here remind you of this. Music existed before you and it must continue to exist after you. To remove the celebration of life that is music will ensure you have a very quiet funeral.


Author’s Note: I’m laughing at myself about this morbid ending. Please help me with tips on how I could have ended this properly. I didn’t want to publish it, but writing is all about being uncomfortable, right?  Thank you so much for reading my blog. 🙂 Here it goes (grimace)…