Little Ol' Me

Speaking of self-image--was I speaking of it? I was. Take a look at this self portrait.  The assignment was from Mrs. Zehr's first grade class at Davenport Grade School in the 1959-58 school year.  The assignment was to draw our picture and tell a little bit about who we are.  We were given a piece of paper 4.5" wide and 12" tall for the drawing.  I drew myself as being 3" tall and 1.5" wide.  I remember this day, where I was seated and what I wore. My blouse was white with some frills and the pants were red corduroy.  I thought nothing of my diminutive self but did notice that some of the other kids' pictures filled the entire piece of paper..  Some filled up the entire space with their self-portraits.  (Notice I have my mouth wide open!)

It took me many years to figure out the significance of this picture.  OK, so I felt like a little, insignificant girl in the great big world.  Seriously.  I was only 6 and who doesn't feel overwhelmed at times when they're 6 or even 60?  But that's not the real point of this post.My self-image was distorted.  Many women have this problem in one form or another.  I still look in the mirror and usually am not happy with what I see.  Maybe I don't feel insignificant like I did at age 6, but I'm still trying to find comfort within this collection of bones that I call my body.  I want to be, though.  I'm tired of working on this.  I have a feeling that in my 60's I'll get a much better sense of who I am and that I will learn to love me.

As the world knows by now, I've turned 60.  Six-oh!  I'm using this opportunity to grow in a lot of ways: spiritually, mentally, emotionally, relationally, and as a woman.  Dave and I are facing some pretty big issues now and we're working hard at handling them the best we can.  One thing we are learning is that we cannot do it alone.  We rely on God for a lot of things.  It's been a roller coaster sometimes.  There have been times when we really thought he may not exist and times when we've known that he is definitely among us.  We're doing a lot of studying the bible and talking and learning and we've come to the realization that we can call upon the name "Jesus" and he will be with us.  God isn't using us like pawns on a chess board.  He does have a plan for our lives and that is to love him and others.  To try to live like Jesus did.  When we don't do that he can't do much to help us because we're making all of our own decisions without regard to what else may work better.  Our humanness just isn't a match to God's intelligence.  We're relying on our relationship with our Living God more than ever right now and we're very comfortable about that.  It's hard to put into so many words but we're finally getting there.

Other areas of my life need work, too.  I'm entering the last third of my life if I live to 90  There's a very good chance that I will live that long.  My dad died at 89, my mom is still living at age 97 and all 4 of my grandparents were in their 88 or 89 when they died.  So, in this final 30 years I need to accomplish some things.  I don't have a "Bucket List" but I'll make one soon.  Right now I'm just getting used to the senior side of life.  I have issues.

I was going to write a post called: My Useless Uterus but I thought it may sound crass.  My uterus helped make two very beautiful human beings, Matthew and Emilie.  (In case you didn't know, Michael, our firstborn was grown in another mother's uterus and came to us pre=baked.)  My reproductive system wasn't very kind to me.  It all started when I was in 7th grade.  My very first period came in February of 1966--I was only 12.  I had bad cramps from the get go and every month following (except for 15 months of pregnancy) until I was 37.  37??  Yes, I jumped into menopause early.  Emilie was only two years old.  If we had waited any longer for her, she may never have been born.  Perish the thought!!  So, I had the opportunity to make two babies. That was great but it didn't come easy.  So since I menopaused so early I'm kinda used to the idea but still, not being able to bear more children isn't something I have celebrated.  We could have had another child in there somewhere if my body had cooperated.

Another loss I'm experiencing is watching my skin get baggy.  I lie on my back and put my legs up and the skin just slides down causing all kinds of wrinkles and stuff.  I look like a 90 year old already.  It's also harder to lose weight because I'm not as active as I once was.

You know what?  I'm just whining, aren't I?  I think I've got a lot of this out of my system.  I want to celebrate this time of life!

Dave will retire one of these years, soon.  We're making plans for that.  Neither one of us in a position to travel much, but we have 3 kids that live all up and down the coast of California.  We can go that far so we'll be able to see our kids in their own environments more often rather than waiting for them to come to us.

We'll downsize.  I've been working on that already.  I have gone through all the boxes in the attic have given away or thrown away tons of stuff.  There's still tons to go through but I've made a huge dent.  I need to keep doing that until we're down to basics.  Eventually we will, God willing, move to Oregon into a smaller place.  Or who knows where we'll end up?  We want to be ready when the time comes.  With retirement income being much less than what we're living on now, we'll have to simplify and that's OK with us.  Neither one of us likes excess stuff in our lives.

Our health issues have gotten our attention.  In our retirement years we plan to continue with the good health practices we're doing and add more.  We're learning Tai Chi right now.  Everyone says that's so good for balance and staying flexible.  It's not as easy as it looks but after only 2 classes I'm loving it.

We can take other courses together like: cooking, photography, writing, gardening, etc. through Adult Education programs.  The Senior classes are free or at a greatly reduced price.

Grandchildren will arrive.  Our kids have almost promised that there will be some.  If I never get any of my own I'm going to find some to "adopt" and be a great, awesome granny!

I have always loved to write. I'm going to continue to journal my "Next Third"--doesn't that sound better than my "Last Third"?-- through my blog and other places, too.  One thing I love to do is write. I have a whole bunch of books in my head and I hope to get them on paper.  Who knows, maybe I'll get published.  It happens.


It's funny, this isn't turning out as I planned.  I think I'm rambling but I have to remind myself that this is what blogs do.  No one has to even read this if they don't want to.  I like it when people do read it and comment, but it's not imperative to my continuing.  So, here I go!

Thanks for listening!

My Life is a Bzzzzzz

I am so excited to get to write another post!  My fingers have been itching to be let out of captivity and start dancing across my keyboard again.  It seems like there's always so much ELSE to do that gets in the way of what I love doing the best.  I'm retired and should be doing stuff I love to do, and I do, just not enough.  Waa Waa!  Poor me, right?

I am listening to a book on CD by Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter Ann Kidd Taylor called "Traveling Pomegranates". It's addresses a lot of great topics, with the theme of mothers and daughters running through.  I am loving it. 

If you don't know who Sue Monk Kidd is, you should.  She's the author of "The Secret Life of Bees" (she tells in the book I'm reading how she got the inspiration for the Bees book--so interesting).
 She also wrote "The Mermaid Chair" which I have read more than once. "The Secret Life of Bees" was made into a movie with an outstanding cast: Dakota Fanning, Jennifer Hudson, Queen Latifah, Alicia Keyes and Sophie Okonedo.  Great movie.  See it! Both books are kind of coming-of[-age books as they have an adolescent girl but also about how adults come of age, too.  They very honestly explore feelings and issues of the times.  "The Bees" also has quite a few racial references as it takes place in the South in the 60's (I think).

Boy, did I ever digress!  "Traveling Pomegranates" is really touching me in some interesting ways. When she wrote it (15 years ago), Sue was on the verge of turning 50.  She and her daughter took a trip to Greece to celebrate Sue's birthday and her daughter, Ann's college graduation.  As Sue contemplates all the life changes that she's experiencing as she turns 50--menopause, finding purpose in life, etc. her daughter is battling depression due to her having problems finding her purpose, too.  The dance around it for a while and finally have a tender heart-to-heart as they share their fears and challenges.  I can't remember the great witticisms that I enjoyed in the book, of course, but it got me thinking of a lot of things in my own life and with my own daughter.

I was thinking back the other day of something my sister told me recently.  She actually told me about 30 years ago but I didn't believe her.  She wanted to giver her 10 year old daughter--temporarily--to us.    She said I laughed, not really taking her seriously.  I don't know if it would have really happened, but now I wish she would ask me again!  I'd take her for sure.  She's now a lovely woman with 3 adorable daughters of her own.  Over the years we've become close so she is almost my daughter anyway.  But, back then I don't think it would have done my niece any good to live with us.  I didn't have kids of my own yet and I was afraid of raising a little girl.  Even when we started a family I didn't think I wanted a girl.  It had a lot to do with my lagging self-image as a person and especially as a female.  As a kid I was the youngest of four and thought by my older sisters to have everything I ever needed.  I guess I didn't because I really didn't like myself at all.  In fact, only in recent years have I felt comfortable with who I am.  I felt small and insignificant.  I felt out of place everywhere.  That's probably why I developed a sense of humor and the ability to entertain.  I felt like if I didn't do that, I wouldn't be noticed.  I also had the youngest child thing about feeling responsible for making everyone in my family happy.  I felt that it was up to me to fix them. 

Now here's the BIG BUT. . . . BUT I changed a lot as I grew into an adult.  Now that I'm 60, I can look back and see how things changed, slowly, over time.  And that's the way a lot of change happens.  Life is a journey that takes us all over the place.  By the time Emilie was on the way I desperately wanted a daughter.  I wore pink whenever I could.  I was so overwhelming happy when I heard those three words "It's A Girl"!  Emilie has a lot to do with how I feel about myself as a woman because through her I was able to look at some of the obstacles in my own life and work hard to ensure that she didn't have them.  Of course, she won't be problem free because we all seem to be quite capable of finding them on our own but she is way ahead of where I was at 25 years old.  She is a woman who knows how to take care of herself and to love herself.  I've learned so much from her.  She's who I wanted to be when I was her age.  As I get older our relationship is changing.  This is addressed in "Traveling Pomegranates", as well.  Sue realizes how her role as a mother changed drastically when her daughter went to college.  She says she's now a "receiver" when her daughter talks to her.  Not an advice giver or a fixer.  That's so true.  When they're little and they have a problem they come to mommy to find out what to do.  We get so used to giving advice right away that it's hard to slow down the flood!  Emilie isn't shy about reminding me that doesn't need my advice so much as she needs me to listen quietly.I like that about her, too.  I always know where I stand with her and I always know that she loves me, no matter what.  That switch is happening, where the child takes care of the parent.  But, as I think back, she's been that way since she was little--always had my back.

I think I'll stop here for now.  Thanks for listening!

Welcome to the 60's

OK, I just turned 60 years old.  Until I got here I always thought that was pretty old. At least it's the real beginning of getting old. Fifty used to be that but now it's almost fashionable to be 50.  It's because all the baby-booming celebrities are getting older just like the rest of us but since they have captive audiences wherever they go they can make it seem like a cool thing so they could get through it.  To tell the truth, if all my pictures were airbrushed to take away a blemish here or some extra fat there, I'd look like a celebrity, too.  The thing is that I'm living a real life and you can't Photoshop real life. "What you see is what you get"! 

I did have an opportunity to be a "Cover girl"( I guess that makes Dave the Cover boy ? ) this summer when the magazine for our Mennonite Brethren church denomination did an article about something I'm involved in at our church. The purpose of the article and the picture is NOT to look at or talk about yours truly.  The article about an illness support group at our church and I'm happy to share what we've done so possibly others can start a group like it and experience the things we have experienced.  It has become a tremendous source of support for us and the other members as we've gotten close to each other and closer to God through the group.  What makes the group work is not me.  It's God and our relationship to him, even in the midst of some very trying physical challenges. I'm not sure of the legalities of putting a pic here, but I think (hope) putting the link to the magazine is OK.  Here is is   http://christianleadermagazine.org/#/1/    (I think you'll have to copy and paste.) They said they would like some pictures to accompany the article and suggested my husband and myself be on the cover.  That really gave me pause--did I really want my face plastered all over the cover?  I mean this is a publication that comes out every other month.  That means that it will potentially sit in someone's bathroom magazine rack or living room end table for two months.  That was a little daunting.  But, in the end we decided to go ahead.  A great photographer, Paul Mullins took the picture so I figured he'd bring out the airbrushes and Photoshop software and make us look like twenty-somethings.  (I really didn't think that but I was kind of hoping.)  Anyway, when the magazine came out there we were up close and personal--wrinkles and all.  The funny thing is that I don't care because the picture looks just like us.  I've never really been one to try to make myself look a lot better in formal pictures than in real life because you always get found out anyway.  When I first started dating my husband, in 1971, he was buff and tan and had very long, very blonde hair. He usually wore jeans and T-shirts.  The look was right in style with the rest of the "hippies" all around us.  I loved the look and instantly fell in love with him.  But, the first time I went to his parents' home I saw a formal picture of a hunky guy with "normal" length hair, combed nicely and he was wearing this awesome purple shirt with white pants.  I asked Dave if that was an older brother.  I was kind of interested because he was gorgeous.  "No," he said, "that's me."  Oooooh, I got it.  He got all cleaned up and groomed for his senior picture.  Then the photographer did his magic with a few touch ups.  That was OK with me because I found that, while he was very attractive to me just the way he was, he was equally hunky when he cleaned up and got groomed!  My point is that I thought he was a completely different person because of all the fake stuff that was done to him.  I'm sure his parents made him get all pretty for the senior pic, but he wouldn't have had to.  I liked him just the way he was.  I have to admit, my senior picture was also retouched.  The creepy thing is that over time, the picture faded so you can see all the underlying blemishes and where the retouching was done.  It's not a pretty picture anymore!

My point?  I forgot---let me see. Oh, I was talking about getting older.  So when I told some people that it was now 60 and they said "welcome to the 60's" I asked them if these 60's would be as good as the first 60's I experienced--the 1960's.  They said they are not.  Too bad.  I had fun in the 60's  I started them at age 7 and finished them at age 17.

Fun times.  Now my real 60's are starting out to be not so much fun.  First of all, I have a primary care doctor and about 6 or 7 specialist doctors.  It seems like we add a new one a couple times a year.  Bummer.  Also, there's the wrinkle thing and the added rolls of something that's forming across my mid-section.  It's really difficult to lose those few pounds that creep up when I least expect them.  It hurts to walk and sometimes to sleep.  My memory is really bad. Embarrassingly bad sometimes.  Another blow to our getting older is that we're thinking seriously about retiring.  I retired about 10 years ago because of failing health.  Dave's looking at retiring for the same reasons.  The question is, "How can we live on so much less money?"  That's what we're trying to figure out now.  I know that we'll be OK, but it's getting to OK that can be troublesome!  God tells us to let Him work in our lives--that if we worry and carry on there won't be room for Him so we try to be brave and not micromanage everything.  We also know that God is with us all the time and that gives us courage to face what's to come.

Remembering

On January 4, 2013 my older brother, Steve, unexpectedly died.  He lived in Illinois in our hometown of Eureka.  He never married but loved kids and was a fabulous uncle to our three kids and his other nieces, nephews and great nieces and nephews.  He was 62; only three years older than me.  We were the third and fourth kids in our family and he was the only boy with our two sisters several years older than us.  We spent a lot of time together being the "younger kids".

Steve (3) and Deb (2 months)

We were pretty close as youngsters and played together--if, that is I wanted to play boy stuff.  He never had the patience to sit down with me and play Barbies!  We did play board games together and I'm sure he always won.   He wasn't one to let me win without deserving it. You can tell in this picture that he was probably wondering what on earth to do with this scrawny, bird-like creature.  I didn't really look like too much fun at 2 months old.

Old mementos from trips

Being so close in age, we spent a lot of time together on family vacations and other outings.  When we were going through his things after he died I found several little souvenirs that we had picked up in various places like Washington, DC, Colorado and New Mexico, to name a few.  My counterparts had long since disappeared but among all of the things that he saved were a little replica of the Capitol building, a small container of sand from the painted desert and a small vial of gold that we panned in "Gold Country"at Knotts Berry Farm in California over 50 years ago.  These along with his "Cub Scout" wallet and a few other things will go into a shadow box that I will hang in my home as a remembrance to him and to our childhood.

Maybe I started to be a bit more fun as I got a little more substance.  This is where our friendship

Deb (6 months) and Steve (3 1/2 years)

started.  I called him "Dee Dee" for a while and then it became "Stevie".  His names for me were not quite so bland. The one I remember him calling me was "Bawl Baby".  There was even a song: "She bawls all day and she bawls all night!  She really is amazing. she's a  Bawl Baby sight."  I doesn't really make much sense but I think it was a take of from a popular song of the times.  And of course, when he would sing it I would just bawl more so it was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy!  I'm glad I could give him so much entertainment!  He really did end up having a lovely singing voice so maybe I can claim some responsibility for that.

Steve teaching me "the wave"

Our first TV

 This picture has always been a favorite of mine.  It was taken in the front yard of our big, old Darst Street house.  The lawn was huge and we spent many hours playing outside.  Just think, if he hadn't spent time teaching me how to walk (and teach me the wave at the same time!!) I may still be crawling.  At least I wasn't bawling!!!

Freshly Scrubbed

And the one on the upper right is another all time fave.  The era of the "electronic babysitter" was beginning.  We had gotten our very first television--they weren't yet common household appliances and we were lucky to get a black and white console set.  We're probably watching Superman or one of the other few choices we had back then.  I vividly remember this moment as I tried act just like him with the feet up and fingers on my face, pinkies in the mouth.  I thought he was super-cool because he was my Big Brother and we had a TV!

This one, where we're freshly scrubbed and ready for bed is another one I remember.  Notice my precision-cut bangs.  That was always an ordeal and for this picture they happen to be straight!  The little stuffed dog I'm holding was light blue with pink trim.  The couch was a scratchy red material.  I hate to say it but I think we were watching TV again. Come to think of it I have a lot of memories involving the Boob Tube.  Fortunately there were only 3 fuzzy black and white channels so I'm sure our brains had a long way to go before they turned to mush.  Getting a picture of your kids when they are clean is always a treat.  I bet we smelled just like Baby Shampoo and Tame cream rinse!  And for once he wasn't teasing me!

World Peace (?)

Here's an example of one of the great vacations we went on.  Our Dad's parents lived in Bellingham, Washington, just south of the US/Canada border.  It was always great fun to stand right on the boundary line.  No one needed passports then and we'd jump back and forth between the two countries!  I don't know if he's trying to remove the "wall" dividing the countries or not, but it could have been the beginning of his life long quest for peace and harmony in the world! We sure did have fun.

I love going through old pictures and mementos of our childhood.  Having an older brother had its advantages.  In spite of all the teasing, he always had my back.  We loved each other in that silly way brothers and sisters do--never really being serious and teasing and mocking each other out loud, but on the inside knowing that it was wonderful to have someone so close in age to look up to.

He taught me a lot of things--like playing baseball, for instance.  We'd have loads of fun and I would really have no idea what I was doing.  He'd patiently explain until he had had enough and I would go back inside to my dolls. We did go to several Chicago Cubs baseball games as a family and he had cool plastic replicas of players like Ernie Banks on his dresser.  I liked to play with them because the baseball bats were removable. He was a musician--had a "trap set" (drums) which he played constantly.  When he got his practice pad he would show me how to hold the sticks and let me pound out a few songs.  I wasn't supposed to play with the drums but I managed to a few times and he thought it was funny to watch me play.  We bonded a lot on our long car trips to Washington State.  There were so many adventures to be had at all the places we would stop for the night.  When we had a motel with a pool he'd help me swim.  In fact, when we were teenagers he taught me Senior Lifesaving at Lake Eureka when he was a lifeguard there.  I was so proud of him then because he had such an important position as manager.

When it came time for me to learn to drive Steve was right there in the passenger seat patiently helping me figure out the finer points of the rules of the road.  He'd be "Fred", the name of my student driving teacher and we'd laugh as he played the role to perfection.

He was proud of me on my HS Grad in 1971

Going back is good for my soul but one can't stay in childhood forever.  Steve and I did grow up and had our own lives to deal with.  He continued to be my mentor and my advisor for many years during high school and beyond.  We grew apart as we crossed paths less and less.  Our one irrevocable tie was my children.  He loved them as if they were his own.  His apartment was full of pictures we had sent along with cards and letters my kids had sent him over the years.  My kids seem to have the ones taken with him, but they are priceless.

If I had known on Christmas Day 2012 that when he answered the phone at mom's for our Christmas call that it would be the last time I would hear his voice I would have talked to him for a long time rather than waiting while he got mom.   I can think of so many other times that I neglected to really show him how much I cared about him, especially when he was going through tough times.  But since we never really do know, we can just learn from these times and keep doing our best.

My brother's life was not easy.  He had so many friends but never found his soul mate.  He was well educated with a Masters Degree in Divinity but was a pastor for only a short time.  He was a hard worker but never seemed to completely find his niche with a fulfilling career.  In spite of this, he changed many people's lives for the better.  He was a good man, kind and generous to a fault.  Yes, he did march to his own beat but he did it well.  He will no longer have to make decisions or  have any regrets.  He is now free from any insecurities or obstacles that he was dealing with.  All that is behind him.  What I now have in my heart and in my little memory box on the wall will keep him with me as I continue to learn from him for the rest of my life.

Thanks, bro.  You taught me well.  Peace and love be with you. 

Back in the US of A

                             

    I may disappoint
Our first meal in the States
McDonalds did make

Next meal oh so fine

At my sister's where we dined

A brunch from Heaven

LET'S EAT!

BAKED EGGS, SWEET ROLLS, ENGLISH MUFFINS & FRUIT--YUM!

I HAD TO HAVE A BITE!

I DID HELP WITH DISHES EVEN THOUGHT THEY DIDN'T THINK I KNEW HOW!

A Fond Farewell

 Yesterday and today we hung around Toulouse.  A couple of exciting stops for Carolyn and me were a local quilt shop and two fabric stores.  The first fabric store was high end with prices from about 40 Euros/meter and up to over 130 Euros/meter. They were quite beautiful.  The second fabric shop was way down on the high fashion list (right) called "Toto Tissus"  Tissu means "Fabric".  The store pictured on the left is a quilt shop which was an exciting stop for Carolyn and me.  The owner was a lovely woman who spoke English and Quiltish.  A quilter is a quilter in the US or France.  We each bought a bundle of fat quarters to make some kind of rememberance of our trip.  It looked like any quilt store I've ever been in which made us both feel at home.                                                       

Last night we had a light supper at Nancy's.  Her apartment is quite comfortable and we needed a rest.  A relaxing evening eating under the stars with a cool breeze was just what we needed.  We decided that the trip had been a very good thing even though we're pretty tired! I will surely miss these down times when we just sit and chat.  The running around to restaurants and shops is lots of fun but this is where we connect.  Our favorite thing has been to reminisce about the good things of our childhoods.  We're recalled various houses we have lived in, how we all slept in the same bedroom for a few years, our grandmother's house and her superb cooking, going to visit aunts and uncles and just the everyday happenings in a home with six people.  Our collective memories filled in for each other what we had forgotten. 

                                                         

                                                     

Today we slept in until 10 am.  Had a few errands to finish up but our noon meal was going to consist heavily of desserts.  We hadn't gone to a bakery yet and picked out exactly what we wanted.     After this we went back to the Pastel store and bought Nancy a pair of earrings as a hostess gift.  Tres jolie!  I had to buy a small suitcase on wheels because I had discovered on my way here that my laptop is very heavy.  I couldn't imagine toting that back across the ocean so I got a neat little rolling bag.  Then we had tea at a design shop where the proprieter designs and custom makes beautirul clotheing  She was very nice and served tea upstairs.  The picture below to the right was taken from our table.  Looks out to a river with a typical European bridge. 

 

Standing on the bank of the river.  There's a grassy area below where people often picnic and just  relax.

Looking towards the hospital museum.  We didn't get a chance to see it so I'll have to come back to do that.  Actually it's impossible to see everything but hitting the highlights can be a lot of fun.

As we say our final Au revoir to Toulouse I show a picture of the front of our apartment building.  It is Residence Franklin Roosevlet or as we affectionately call it, "The Frank".  It has served us well these days and nights and contributed to a very comfortable stay.  Close to the Metro and everything else it was all quite convenient.  Hats off to sister Nancy for choosing wisely.  We have now made this city "our woman" as Emilie and I would say.  I think I could pick up more of the language and someday be fluent if I could just stay here a few more weeks/months/years!  Alas, our men call us home.  Actually that's a good thing.  It's time to get back to our regular lives and tend to the everyday tasks of living.  It will be so good to be back with Dave and be in closer communication with our children (and of course Abbey and Eddie our 4-legged children).  So until next time!

Au Revoir, Toulouse!

 

The REAL Disneyland

 

 This is where we spent Wednesday.  While there are no rides or cartoon characters this place is as enchanting as any castle Walt Disney thought about.  It is located in Carcassonne, France. Earliest historic reference can be traced to the beginning of the 8th century BC.  There are many restaurants and shops within the enclosure.  We therefore did a lot of eating and shopping.  We had to do that to fit in.  Not that we WANTED to...

Now here's a chick you may want to know.  I personally have heard about enough of her. Let me introduce you to Dame Carcas.  Her story is almost as unseemly as her name.     

WARNING: This story may gross out the sensitive at heart and stomach.  I myself  can hardly write this story without shedding a tear but I must do it for a complete record of my trip.

In the 13th century during the Arab occupation of the City, Dame Carcas, a Saracen princess was defending Carcasonne against Charlemagne and his army. The siege had lasted 5 years and inside the fortress, food was becoming scarce.  Dame Carcas had the houses of the city searched to gather up all the possible remaining food. The soldiers also brought a pig to her that one woman had kept hidden in her cellar. In a stroke of brilliance (?) Dame Carcas fed all the food to the pig and threw it out of the castle window. When it fell to the ground and all its innards were strewn about, the astonished Charlemagne exclaimed: 'If the Arabs can afford to throw their food out of the window, then there must still be plenty of food in the city--useless to continue a siege that has already lasted for so long.' They quickly retreated and started for home. That should be the end of the story, but the precious princess decided that she actually wanted Charlemagne with her so she called him back.  Go figure.  She wanted a bad boy.

We stopped in at the Saint Nazaire basilica which is a combination of Romanesque and Gothic art.  This is one gorgeous church.  The stained glass windows were so beautiful I could have stared at them all day deciphering their meanings.  Since this is an active church we were all to be quiet and respectful as we looked around.  All of a sudden we started hearing music.  Looking around I thought it must be a CD but it was a Russian men's quartet that sings regularly in the church.  They sell CD's which benefit the church but this live performance was second to none.  The acoustics were impeccable and they did not use microphones.  I tried to publish a recording but couldn't get it to work.  If you want to search for it it would be worth your while.  Try searching YouTube for:  Sights and Sounds from Europe #8--"Russian singers in Carcassonne cathedral" 

 This is what it looked from the inside out for the defenders of the castle.  These windows were constructed so that things could be shot from the inside from a wide angle, but the angle for the enemies shooting in was very small.  There were many other ways that the construction lent itself to being defended rather than defeated.  A favorite seemed to be throwing hot oil on their enemies from atop the towers.  I have a book that explains all the dastardly deeds that were perpetrated upon the brave but foolish attackers of this impenetrable fortress.  To tell you the truth, I wasn't very excited about this place until I saw it so I'm not expecting to be able to pass on to you the full impact of seeing it.    I learned that even ancient European history can be fascinating.  This is from the person who practically slept through world history in high school.  I didn't think it had any relevance to me because it didn't sound fun.  Maybe if we had taken some field trips to these far flung places I may have gotten excited about it a long time ago! 

 I feel that I would be remiss if I did not add to my cobblestone collection.  This is only one pattern that I found under my feet at Carcassonne.  I thought it would be a good addition because of the rectangular shape.   There were so many stones and bricks all around me I was overwhelmed.  First of all, it was really hard to walk on the streets, but I described that in a previous blog.  I didn't fall but I did walk into a concrete pillar that was about knee high.  

The visitor's center (below) is the best of its kind.  As you walk down the stone steps you get the feeling of being taken back in time.  The ceiling is beautiful and looking through the tall, slender "weapons windows" you can almost feel lost in the drama of those times.  It's dark and dusty but so full of history. Even the cobwebs seemed ancient.  Maybe they are the very ones that Dame Carcas saw as she was bustling about the castle.

 By the time we made it back to the train we were so tired we looked forward to sitting down for the hour trip home.  When we got back to our apartment we hit the hay early.  This morning we got to sleep in and recharge.  We plan to spend our last couple days in Toulouse resting and shopping and of course, eating.  We're going to make a meal of desserts tomorrow.  We really seem to be doing a lot of shopping, but there is much to buy for our people back home.  After all, we're the ones having all the fun while they're working hard back home.  It's the very least we can do, right?  

This trip will go down as a great success.  We are all so glad that we finally did it.  We have spent a lot of time together and done so much.  It is fun to be able to do this as we get to know each other even better.  I've always loved having sisters but being the youngest I've often felt like I was on the outside looking in.  Vestiges of those family dynamics seem to be always present but they fade over the years.  As we've all gone through our lives we've found our way with and without each other.  It's just nice to know that when we do cross paths we are able to do it with love and affection for each other and that we enjoy our time together.  We have a good legacy of family being friends as we watched our parents interact with their siblings.  There were differences for sure, but when it came right down to it, they always had each others backs.  I think that's the way we sisters are and that's a good way to go through life.