Home Sweet Home

Today I'm writing this blog entry while enjoying a sunny 75° day, blaring Supertramp on our new balcony...yes, we moved! While moving I was thinking of the differences between moving in Paris and back in the states. I of course tried to be thrifty and find boxes at the grocery store, which I did, but when I brought them home I noticed a dead cockroach stuck to the bottom, sick! So instead I went to buy some, a lot, and they were expensive...maybe they are in the states too and I just don't remember but it pained me to spend that much on cardboard.  There were so many boxes it seemed as if we were moving a family of four and I started feeling bad for those who offered to help us.  Not only were there so many boxes but neither apartment had an elevator...yes, in Paris, not all apartments have elevators.  I look at it as it's better for you to take the stairs than take an elevator anyway, just obviously not in heels. I cannot leave out the fact that I didn't have to help move any of these boxes. That is a first. In the U.S. I remember a time when my friend and I hired movers but I'm pretty sure we did all the heavy lifting. Another time my movers were late and I had to be out of the apartment and I moved it all down to the alley by myself.  I have to admit I felt guilty but grateful for those who helped!! Many thanks to them!  So now here we are...all moved in and everything in it's place.  It's an exciting time for us...a new chapter and I couldn't be happier!

 

 

 

If you are moving in Paris, this is where I got the boxes http://www.demenagerseul.com/

Side note...moving on Sunday is better than Saturday...less traffic:)

 

Bisous xx

Bunny Hill

I stocked up on a bunch of magazines for our road trip to the Alps.  Reading actual books in the car makes me car sick but for some reason reading gossip magazines has no affect on me.  One of the first articles I read was about the staggering number of deaths in the Alps over the past month....slightly unsettling for someone who hasn't been skiing in years. As we prepared to embark on day 1 of hitting the slopes, I reminded Fred that I wanted to start off taking a leisure ski down the 'bunny hill'.  I figured that after a few good runs down that and I would be good to go...just like getting back on a bike.  We started our ascend and I was initially focused on the breathtaking views surrounding me, a freshly fallen snow covered the mountains, the air was fresh and crisp, and I felt like I was a little closer to heaven on that chairlift ride.  But suddenly, I realized that the chairlift wasn't stopping and we were clearly surpassing any bunny hill that might have existed.  I asked Fred if he was taking me to a black diamond because seriously that is what it looked like and I didn't think it was funny, but he calmly told me that we were just going down a green run which is pretty much the next step up from the bunny hill.  Regardless of where we were going, I had 2 options...I could either take this chairlift on a round trip or I could put my big girl pants on and give it a go.  As I gathered by bearings, after literally pushing Fred to the ground on my exit from the lift, I started my descend and all I could think was why didn't I rent the helmet that they suggest you wear just to save an extra 6€ a day...I know at that moment I was thinking 6€ could be my nightly bottle of wine, but how stupid of me to have put wine over my physical safety.  It felt as if I was going down that mountain at 20 miles per hour, until a ski school of 4 and 5 year olds passed me by and then it felt more like 1 mile an hour.  That group of kids reminded me that when in doubt put your skis into the shape of a pie, or as the french say, chasse neige, and slowly but surely I made it to the bottom and I was suddenly back in a state of euphoria.  Thankfully, Fred was patient and helped me re-learn my ski skills and by the end of the week I was skiing like Lindsey Vonn....just kidding, but I was able to keep up with under 5 kids classes which made me proud.

The ski station we stayed at was awesome...Les Orres...a little village of its own...everything you need right at your fingertips.  One of the best french things is called raclette...kind of like fondue but better, as you heat up thick slices of cheese to drizzle over mouth-watering cuts of charcuterie.  It's gluttonous but so good! 

 



The pictures below don't say enough of how beautiful the Alps are in person.  I feel very blessed to have been able to experience this and hope Fred thinks I improved enough to take me again next year:)

Bisous xx