Belgium in live and living color

We arrived in Brussels by train this morning and was greeted at the platform by Ms. Denise, mother to the infamous childhood friend of Red, Hans.

Ms. Denise's warm hugs were the perfect greeting on that freezing platform, the wind blowing our hair and our cheeks flushed with the cold. She greeted Red like he was her lost son. You could feel how happy both Hans and his mom were to see Red after 12 years of separation.

From the train station, we wandered through the huge Sunday market to the car and drove through the narrow streets to the famous Market square where the buildings date back to the 1400's...remarkable. After a few pictures we snuck into a local restaurant for some cappuccinos and good conversation. The restaurant's building was built in the 1600's and had a massive fire built in the center. ( Even more remarkable was the giant stuffed horse behind our table---very middle ages?)

We went on to the Manneke Pis ( the peeing boy statue) which is infamous in Brussels. The story goes that two sides of Belgium were at war and one side was lighting a fuse to a bomb for the other side. A little boy wandered out right at that moment, saw the fuse, and peed on it, becoming the hero of the conflict. ( what a smart little boy!)

After grabbing some pastries for a snack, and exploring the Tin Tin store, we went on to the "atom" a monument that was built for the world exposition. It was so cool!! Literally a giant atom symbolizing the different cities in Belgium.

Now, we are relaxing at Hans' home about to eat a home cooked meal. ( Red has been raving about Ms. Denise's food for YEARS so I am very excited...especially for her fries...because I may or may not be addicted to potatoes.)

Posting pictures soon!

La mode a là Paris

Ladies, Ladies (and perhaps a few gentlemen)...

It is officially time to discuss the style of the fashion capital of the world. This post is in no way meant to be difinitive, but it does reflect a few main ideas that I have gleaned from our counter gamines a là Paris.

1. Bed head is in: it seems that most French women allow their hair to do it's natutral thing. Whether you have course curls, frizzy waves, or stick straight strands, style it as it goes. And if you do "fix" it, do so in an effortless way such as a messy bun, half undone braid, or a random clip.

2. Make up is meant to enhance: I've seen more French women with more make-up on than ever before. Red lips and blue eye shadow being the highlight. However, the French have the art of enhancement down. Even when they have on a full face of make-up, it never seems like a mask. It seems natural---are we Americans even able to fake this?

3. Boots, boots, boots: Never before have I seen so many styles in my life (nor have I ever seen so many uggs in the city of love...they use to make fun of them!) They are wearing a lot of riding boots and desert boots, and wedge booties, and all types of ankle bootes...with everything they own.When I say they are wearing boots with everything...I mean everything: shorts, jeans, leggings, skirts, dresses...colors mixing; brown with black; navy with black. It is such a ménage!

4. Short skirts and hose: French girls are not afraid of the cold nor of pantyhose. They rock the pantyhose with everything including all frocks, shorts, and mini skirts. I have seen only 1 bare leg yet and she looked miserable. So ladies in the U.S. don't be afraid to wear panty hose or tights, they make everything look très chic.

 http://www.scarfcreative.com/2010/12/street-style-winter-white.html

5. Nipped at the waist coats: Well thought out, the typical French girl realizes that most people will only see her shoes and her coat. So she opts for a coat that nips in at the waist so that her shape can be appreciated. It could be military style, a puff jacket, long or short, but most likely it will be nipped in at the waist.

6. Handbag: Really you will see every style of purse possible. But there seems to be an influx in bags you carry by hand instead of a shoulder strap. Think big and practically structured like a weekender bag.

As a general rule, the French dress more elegantly than we Americans. Though this does not mean more formal---it's simply more beautiful.

It certainly inspires me to take my purchases more seriously by buying fewer but nicer pieces.

What are your thoughts? Should we be satisfied with less but with better?

Ooh Paris How I love Thee

Bonjour mes amis!

I greet you from the bustleing city of Paris, two days into our world adventure. I am sorry that I can't post any pictures as of yet but hopefully soon I will be able to.

We arrived yesterday at 8 in the morning and did not stop until 3 in the afternoon! The most unfortunate part of the trip is getting adjusted to the time zone. You must stay awake as long/late as possible in order to get on track.

So in order to stay alert and engaged we jumped into the tourist scene. First we found our hotel and dropped off our backpacks. Then we wandered rue de clers and its markets for a good "petit dejeuner" only to make the mistake of buying gross croque monsieurs ( ham and cheese sandwich) from a street vendor. We are not returning there.

The one redeeming quality of these sandwiches was that they were eaten in front of the Eiffel Tower....which managed to up their anty by only a smidge.

After our breakfast we wandered under the Eiffel Tower, on across the Seine, and to Trocadero.  I got to show Red the fountain I wallowed in back in high school when I was an au-pair---it was the hottest summer on record! He laughed when I described all the Parisennes laying on the banks of this fountain and playing in the water cannons as if it were a public pool. But I tell you this was a neccessary thing at that time! I also showed Red the apartment I lived in with the family I lived with. It was incredible walking that street again and realizing that 9 years have passsed.
We went on from there to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysses, taking our time to people watch, and for me, fashion watch. ( No worries ladies--I will do a post on fashion in Paris to cover all that is to be said)

Riding the metro has been as easy as it is reknown to be. However, there have been quite a bit more musical performers on the trains than I remembered there being. Ask Red whenever you see him and I imagine He will be able to recreate the experience for you with a tune he has had stuck in his head since yesterday morning. It is quite funny. My favorite musician was an older man who played the accordian in the typical French style. He matched his timing to the speed of the train making you feel as if you were flying down a dark tunnel with a mad accordian tuned to every zig and zag. Heart racing I tell you.

After we snuck in a little nap we ventured out again, headed for Notre Dame. Notre Dame is stunning at all times of day; but it is magical in the early evening as the sky is turning deep blue and the moon and venus is settling into place. We off-handedly decided to wander inside just to catch a look at night and stumbled into a full mass! The music alone was unbelieveable. We sat soaking it in. God gains glory from it all.

After being rejuvenated by the sound of music (ah-ah-ahhhhhh) (anyone?) we got lost in the Latin quarter still managing to miss the main street. The Latin quarter is one of the oldest sections of town and is also home to the Sorbonne (university) and other schools. It is heavy on the student demographic but is an awesome area to explore. Attempt numero 2 will occur tonight.

We found a small street cafe and got a decent meal for a great price then headed home to crash. Our 9 o'clock bedtime was perfect.

Today we slept in until 8 and then wandered through the markets to pick up some fruit and snacks. We've spent the day traipsing through the streets of Paris visiting Monte-marte, eating delicious Vietnamese food in China town and relaxed in the Luxenbourg gardens in front of the senate.

It was a perfect day....I must go---I think the hotel is wanting their laptop back. I will write again soon!

A bientot

From the Plains to the Mountains

I had never driven across Kansas before. I had never been creeped out by massive wind farms before. I had  never driven through a canyon with crazy snow and ice before.

Before our most recent road trip, I had been living life safely on the edge of the Mississippi; far, far, away from any thoughts of eternal plains, energy farms, and mountains.

But now.

But now, I am changed for forever. No really. This isn't meant to be as dramatic as it sounds. But I am changed.

Red and I just returned from a sweet road trip with our friends Jackie and Micah. Jackie's family lives out in Colorado about 2 hours west of Denver in Glenwood Springs. (Not to be confused with paradise...)

No doubt, Red and I jumped on the opportunity to meet her family and to get away into the mountains. The  drive's terrain was invigorating...You hear everyone complain about driving through the plains and despising it, oh but friends!--it is beautiful!

As we drove across this vast expanse, I couldn't help but be reminded of the beach. Odd I know. No ocean for miles--and I think of the beach. But it was something about the swaying of the tall golden grasses that reminded me of dunes and the richness of the blue sky that reminded me of the depths of the sea.

I looked out my window and felt as if inspiration roams freely across this land; that if I could throw myself into it's thralls then I would be changed. Perhaps I would double in size to take up space or perhaps I would grow smaller to better experience God's delirious creation. But yes, changed.

As we drew closer to Denver we began to saw the Rockies push out of the horizon as if they had to stake their claim. There is no denying their stature---why they think they would be pushed around, is beyond me...but..

How these mountains shock your system is undeniable. I had only visited CO once before. It was with Red for his high school friend's wedding and it was summer time. Winter is a completely different experience.

These mountains, ruddy with red earth, Aspens, and craggy rocks jut to the sky suddenly and with out remorse. As we weaved through the valleys and canyons and held our breath dangerously long through tunnels burrowed in the mountains' bellies, a whole new world came to life. It swirled with snow. We slid with ice. White took over for red and we entered into what I like to refer to as: Narnia. (spoken with a fabulous British accent.)

It was enchanting:

The foray into the canyon took an hour longer than expected. But, alas, we arrived at Jackie's home. Blown away by the beautiful drive, thankful to make it there safely, and starving for potato soup--we jumped out of the car eager.

The snow still falling:

I think the one of our party most excited to arrive was Hunter, Jackie and Micah's adorable pup:

Stay tuned for the rest of this trip--it's only just begun...