tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72842948198240888782023-11-16T07:39:59.314-08:00A Tale of GraceGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-62578140478124058512015-05-05T04:32:00.001-07:002015-05-05T04:33:59.397-07:00New Diplomat's Wife InterviewMy sweet friend over at <a href="http://www.thenewdiplomatswife.com/" target="_blank">The New Diplomat's Wife</a> recently interviewed me from her Notes From The Field series, which gives you a glimpse of what life is like in places all over the world. When she asked me to talk about life in Mauritius, I couldn't say no.<br />
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So hop on over and <a href="http://www.thenewdiplomatswife.com/2015/05/notes-from-field-port-louis-mauritius.html" target="_blank">check out my interview!</a></div>
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Oh, and checkout <a href="http://www.thenewdiplomatswife.com/" target="_blank">her blog</a> too. She's currently in Copenhagen, but before that was posted in Washington, D.C. and Vienna. Her blog - and it's photos - are just fantastic!</div>
Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-81448779124644085592015-04-21T02:39:00.002-07:002015-04-21T23:20:59.832-07:00A Mauritian Mountain GetawayAs I've sorely neglected this blog for the 20 months we've been here, I thought I'd write about some of the things we've seen and done since we arrived here back in July 2014. Today, I thought I'd share a few days we spent in a part of that Mauritius isn't internationally renowned (but perhaps should be): the mountains.<br />
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Our good friends invited us to join them for a few days in a place called Chamarel, nestled in the peaks and valleys of the mountains toward to southeast of this little island. I had no idea what to expect, but it ended up being, by far, one of our favourite adventures on the island.<br />
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Our friends encouraged us to bring warm pyjamas, sweaters, and long sleeves, particularly for nighttime. I thought they were crazy at first, but I was so glad we heeded their advice. It was July, the middle of winter for Mauritius, and although in our part of the island, to the North, it barely gets below 65F (18C) at night, in the mountains to the south it dipped closer to 55F (12C) which, I assure you, feels quite frigid after a year of non-stop tropical heat. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View From Our Kitchen Window</td></tr>
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We arrived at our little cabin, perfectly picturesque, nestled in lush, green trees and planted firmly in rich, terracotta soil, which reminded me so much of my years playing in the red clay earth of Alabama. Our little cabin had one bedroom, big enough to house a queen bed, a twin bed, and a travel cot, thank goodness. The little kitchen had a window that framed the beautiful valley below us. The dining table was outside, so we could spend our mornings eating breakfast and taking in that perfect view.<br />
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Our friends have two little boys, one C's age, one M's age, so it was perfect. They spent all their time playing outside (not an iPad or iPhone in sight!). On our first morning, we packed everyone into the cars and drove, for the first time, to Le Morne beach to watch the kite surfers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoZPoglOn5OrYVurIvAVhECj4Zb_GBf4EI5k-flva56FH_C86g9OCqUL6otNpB_CGMzbmsrKdtvgnp4tTWh12zzdME8Hm8UvmgCf-fCWjWIXI516KT0Zl7bXozN2vW_wQOnLpl0yyV7g/s1600/DSC_0230r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwoZPoglOn5OrYVurIvAVhECj4Zb_GBf4EI5k-flva56FH_C86g9OCqUL6otNpB_CGMzbmsrKdtvgnp4tTWh12zzdME8Hm8UvmgCf-fCWjWIXI516KT0Zl7bXozN2vW_wQOnLpl0yyV7g/s1600/DSC_0230r.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqbE4Vz99svfSTdfSZ7FQGIn25aikkkg_8qj23KNVu93EJ90amke2dD-7WAQ9Q5XtaOVbSiO8YwL3ol-tTXGohHK3cwlS6WsjQYcwPYyaOR42qf6EDNl6Cihz6tbrmmi7N0-U7BcZCTM/s1600/DSC_0225r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqbE4Vz99svfSTdfSZ7FQGIn25aikkkg_8qj23KNVu93EJ90amke2dD-7WAQ9Q5XtaOVbSiO8YwL3ol-tTXGohHK3cwlS6WsjQYcwPYyaOR42qf6EDNl6Cihz6tbrmmi7N0-U7BcZCTM/s1600/DSC_0225r.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsMazIXgbSODJ7hohkFZ5lRWTZekpbZWdPpoQI9FlDZyFv3_WZV6nLipFOVpNtedH8Jan0mN1ui26MFUPufy0LbeUuVcYAn7Xw7GoTQOFu9q7o1yS-6bRir41BTz6ypejQOJJmfso-v0/s1600/DSC_0234r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsMazIXgbSODJ7hohkFZ5lRWTZekpbZWdPpoQI9FlDZyFv3_WZV6nLipFOVpNtedH8Jan0mN1ui26MFUPufy0LbeUuVcYAn7Xw7GoTQOFu9q7o1yS-6bRir41BTz6ypejQOJJmfso-v0/s1600/DSC_0234r.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDIYRzCT-JkUNuNRYXeXPMHjVHjXm40q6462wLfs31usNJwDHJl0ZUO-FOU_an8NARSzF9hJG4AejrEAAIGoWhRNhW4pSpBnLvi3VU_d8pzV9loEj5fv8xQqwCbxV00J1i8hQtJLa1NU/s1600/Carys+on+Le+Morne+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUDIYRzCT-JkUNuNRYXeXPMHjVHjXm40q6462wLfs31usNJwDHJl0ZUO-FOU_an8NARSzF9hJG4AejrEAAIGoWhRNhW4pSpBnLvi3VU_d8pzV9loEj5fv8xQqwCbxV00J1i8hQtJLa1NU/s1600/Carys+on+Le+Morne+Beach.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a><br />
That afternoon, we had lunch at Le Chamarel. We ate Kreol dishes (think roasted boar shank and dorado vindaye curry) and took in this spectular vista:<br />
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That night we had a delicious dinner al fresco, BBQ with plenty of wine, followed by toasted marshmallows as we cozied around the fire.<br />
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The following day began late, with lunch and a tour at the Chamarel Rhumerie, tasting the fabulous flavoured rums and sampling the delicious compotes and confitures made on site:<br />
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Full and happy after a good meal, we moved on to visit the Chamarel Waterfall, where enormous fruit bats the size of hawks soared overhead. The kids thought this was amazing (as did I!). Unfortunately, they were a bit camera shy.<br />
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And then to the Seven Coloured Earth, which is quite a wonder, as apparently even if you take a big jar full of the earth, mix it all up, the different colours will eventually separate on their own into a spectrum of reds, oranges, browns, and purples. It was beautiful, especially against the green of the mountain behind it.<br />
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While there, we drank sugar cane juice (which is just as sweet as you'd imagine). They put the cane into this crazy contraption and voila!<br />
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We visited the giant tortoises...<br />
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...then headed back to the cabin for naps, play time, and another amazing dinner with friends.<br />
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On our last morning, we took the kids to The Curious Corner, where we all had a great time exploring, climbing trees, and somehow ended up standing on the ceiling.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
We can't wait to go again, very soon!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*all photos courtesy of yours truly and the hubby.</span>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-55140394867997796842015-04-14T03:00:00.000-07:002015-04-16T00:37:44.304-07:00Diving Back In<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Today, I took my first ocean swim in three months. I sharply
inhale as I entered the water, feeling a bit brave for striding straight into
the cool blue of the Indian Ocean. Within seconds I feel warm, refreshed,
and much more alive. I have never been a swimmer - nor, I freely admit,
an athlete - but from the first day early last September that I decided to
swim the length of our beach, I took to it like the proverbial fish to
water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTV6nFuCw0ilQmaQ2khMwrx7AMGismbBO2bP8TLDsPWum263dTdG6z_3GXXlQqvnlWCzU17b-i0WTWGovjUOmfyHfwNeZ8GhgBv_hlxrByQxSsTYHvZZLxno3v2HVOC4Nbrxcjj0PkaxQ/s1600/Our+Beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTV6nFuCw0ilQmaQ2khMwrx7AMGismbBO2bP8TLDsPWum263dTdG6z_3GXXlQqvnlWCzU17b-i0WTWGovjUOmfyHfwNeZ8GhgBv_hlxrByQxSsTYHvZZLxno3v2HVOC4Nbrxcjj0PkaxQ/s1600/Our+Beach.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my view aquatic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I crave this time in the ocean. I don't have many quiet
moments in my day, but the 45 minutes I steal to swim are guaranteed to be
peaceful and beautiful. Alone with my thoughts, I'm able to think
clearly for at least a little while. A
cyclone and a Mauritian summer of storm after storm deprived me of these swims,
as our little beach became filled with seaweed and I learned the hard and
painful way of the microscopic jellyfish that become tangled in the ocean
greenery. It eventually became difficult to even walk on our beach, the
waves depositing a solid green and brown blanket of seaweed all along the
shoreline. But now, luckily, our beach looks like our beach again, just
in time for winter (and our dear friends who are visiting next month). </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssP6wDbDsZ2v1yDVNc3H5kqZjTSG1lWFPKthmcOo6Lw30zWvDMvPDBgX58odgzULPyGVtY8cY8RR1796EvUDya2Yc4CXD3voEl2GJhh12ODUDtz3VU3RXPz7UhfjfTYkmeH0q-C8YPA0/s1600/photo+5+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgssP6wDbDsZ2v1yDVNc3H5kqZjTSG1lWFPKthmcOo6Lw30zWvDMvPDBgX58odgzULPyGVtY8cY8RR1796EvUDya2Yc4CXD3voEl2GJhh12ODUDtz3VU3RXPz7UhfjfTYkmeH0q-C8YPA0/s1600/photo+5+(1).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;">As I push through the water, I consider my view. The water
is crystal clear and tourquoise, and I can see 12-14 feet below me to the coral
along the floor of our lagoon. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;">On
one swim, back in December, I saw a huge marlin swim beside me about 10 feet
away. My speed increased exponentially
to give me a much better workout than I intended! Luckily, the time I saw a huge ray fly out of
the water and dive back in, I was standing at the shore with my little
family. The fish must enjoy human
company, as they don’t seem to mind you as you borrow their playground. So far, anyway. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMBw0qVJbswTL0bs9pO8KeQ7XDWN_gpOCYU4MefBMMDT3KphQG-NNNW4Jw2KYIuGannRaSozWRP3zgk5WMgo8MKUINM7_SnaczX3tAiOnt57vs9iq6kNyB-1WKjKjl9p8XK4F2SgHp0I/s1600/IMG_4926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 13.3333330154419px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMBw0qVJbswTL0bs9pO8KeQ7XDWN_gpOCYU4MefBMMDT3KphQG-NNNW4Jw2KYIuGannRaSozWRP3zgk5WMgo8MKUINM7_SnaczX3tAiOnt57vs9iq6kNyB-1WKjKjl9p8XK4F2SgHp0I/s1600/IMG_4926.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Along the shore I try to
count the coconut trees but my efforts are wasted as I lose count quite quickly. There are evergreens that grow along our
beach, too, with long, feather-like branches and tiny prickly seeds that fall
to the sand and painfully remind you of their existence. Then there’s that sky. Perfectly blue, full of white fluffy clouds
and the occasional airplane filled, I’m sure, with excited travellers already
in love with the sight of this little island paradise below them.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDrF7FaKJZhj2xh49_V-n3xv_aT1RQQ4abIHJkRtruU8Yx6Fu0Ht5cq1YX7GNdxaBDGBzATutSw2GkNNA55zqJx9sXFtixQPmAOh6yOBGpewkpcN_yZUxYe5QT-_N86o8ZF2mqgqVccg/s1600/Flying+In+Over+Mauritius.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDrF7FaKJZhj2xh49_V-n3xv_aT1RQQ4abIHJkRtruU8Yx6Fu0Ht5cq1YX7GNdxaBDGBzATutSw2GkNNA55zqJx9sXFtixQPmAOh6yOBGpewkpcN_yZUxYe5QT-_N86o8ZF2mqgqVccg/s1600/Flying+In+Over+Mauritius.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">With each subconscious
stroke, my mind wanders further. I
contemplate that we have only 3 months left here. I’m trying to savour each remaining day. Trying not to take anything for granted. Trying not to waste a moment. At the same time I’m trying to mentally
prepare for what is ahead: not only prioritizing the huge task sorting and
packing, but also the more emotional side that comes with every move. Not just my emotions, either, but that of our
five-year-old, who I know will be very sad to leave some people behind.</span></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuQWCuVGhhZ9WItOZR_BXHiQ0ZL3OckfqnD1-mzbxdtEZal0Jt8OCU0KiO3kVnG6xliI3vMlMARxG_6E6Jr1z6rsy2-rVqG-6iRsolV-Llide54x3wvQWKGcaA6TGqDjqWwJzle3Wtao/s1600/IMG_5112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOuQWCuVGhhZ9WItOZR_BXHiQ0ZL3OckfqnD1-mzbxdtEZal0Jt8OCU0KiO3kVnG6xliI3vMlMARxG_6E6Jr1z6rsy2-rVqG-6iRsolV-Llide54x3wvQWKGcaA6TGqDjqWwJzle3Wtao/s1600/IMG_5112.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">It’s difficult to balance the
feeling of excitement and anticipation, of the impending comfort of returning
to what is familiar and, let’s face it, convenient. There will be much to miss here: friends we’ve made, places we visit, and, of
course, these stunning beaches and mountains. But there is also much to look forward to: visiting family and seeing
old friends, returning to favourite haunts and discovering new places that
popped up in our absence. And, of
course, always in the back of our minds is our next international adventure:
Mexico. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixL0L2NpE7Lu4cgc3LAInB2T8SbyzxGBI_chYU_Czmgn9o3ThnsTwimKIgNJZp7ryNsuJ6kuNDN89E4HbnL8P842GxNLqhydBPo4N6i_RIiLytmercvrOZZ-0HmqJd7x_3YQ-4UNX5rcw/s1600/IMG_5152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixL0L2NpE7Lu4cgc3LAInB2T8SbyzxGBI_chYU_Czmgn9o3ThnsTwimKIgNJZp7ryNsuJ6kuNDN89E4HbnL8P842GxNLqhydBPo4N6i_RIiLytmercvrOZZ-0HmqJd7x_3YQ-4UNX5rcw/s1600/IMG_5152.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">I have some new plans and
goals for the coming year and I’m looking forward to embarking on these
adventures. It’s a bittersweet time; transitions usually are. But by the end
of my swim I feel a renewed sense of purpose, clearer in my thoughts, and very appreciative of this crazy, incredible adventure
I’m living. </span></div>
<br />
<!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-71933379298773625352013-10-17T09:42:00.000-07:002013-10-17T09:42:20.804-07:00Seven Months Down<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello friends and family. It has been a very long month since I posted anything, and since I felt like myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've been slightly under the weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After I recovered from my bug bites -- which were oh-so-fun, in and of
themselves -- I got a sore throat, which developed into a cough, which -- over
a weekend, naturally -- left me feeling like I couldn't breathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, off to the docs I went, C in tow, to
discover that I had some sort of pneumonia/bronchitis and a sinus infection and
my little C had bronchitis and an ear infection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, a couple of days later, C got the tummy
bug from her father, which I mercifully escaped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We've taken more antibiotics and other
medications than I care to think about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Took me a good 3 weeks to get over that bout of sickness, and it's only
this week that I'm really feeling back to normal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know you're more susceptible to illness
when you're pregnant but geez!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hoping this
is the last of it for a while.... {knocks wood}<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of pregnancy, this one is FLYING by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had heard that about second pregnancies and,
guess what? It's true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I feel
as though I'm not paying this pregnancy as much attention (or focusing on it as
fully) as I did when I was expecting C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That might have something to do with moving half way across the world,
trying to make this house feel like home, and all while having an almost 4
year-old with boundless energy who is definitely keeping me on my toes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nevertheless, this baby is certainly making
its presence known - I think it's already a tango aficionado, by the feel of
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sleep is getting more
uncomfortable, and I think I have only a couple more weeks of being able to
buckle my shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Braxton Hicks contractions
are in full swing - forgot how much fun those are!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I'm thankful every day for this little
peanut (actually, my book says it's as big as a butternut squash now) in my
belly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzoW6P4ee_RJQXz5TMS8x1-GCdDUutLWGeUhXAIt006OJuJ_B3Xs66_nSch3OgCjf8DxSuX9rXDMdmTORzToLfmBcDpUx9Ggr9EYC26_zE3kXrhAcPGbrsknvxjSyN3_jiZPE4q57EWk/s1600/IMG_3924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzoW6P4ee_RJQXz5TMS8x1-GCdDUutLWGeUhXAIt006OJuJ_B3Xs66_nSch3OgCjf8DxSuX9rXDMdmTORzToLfmBcDpUx9Ggr9EYC26_zE3kXrhAcPGbrsknvxjSyN3_jiZPE4q57EWk/s400/IMG_3924.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For those who have asked - this is me last week at 28 weeks. Feeling rather large these days - larger much quicker than the first time around!</td></tr>
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I'm currently 7 months (29 weeks) pregnant and due on New
Years Day -- how's that for timing?! -- and I think that the time between now
and then is going to fly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have
decided to keep the gender a surprise, as we did when we were expecting C.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For us, it's the best surprise: that moment
after all that hard work, when you find out what you've been carrying for all
those months!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We flip-flop back and
forth between thinking it's a boy and thinking it's a girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a list of names for both genders; we
have one clear favorite for a boy and a top 3 for girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Picking a name is no easy task!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We're also not telling anyone what our picks
are - we're all about the big surprises over here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It drives our families -- well, certain
members of my family for sure (ahem...R) -- crazy at times, but hopefully they don't
really mind too much!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.cmgdigital.com/shared/img/photos/2013/05/31/89/84/baby_name.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://media.cmgdigital.com/shared/img/photos/2013/05/31/89/84/baby_name.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.cmgdigital.com/shared/img/photos/2013/05/31/89/84/baby_name.jpg" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">via</span></a></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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C seems to be very excited about the baby. She says ‘hi’ to
the baby and sings to it and rubs my belly. She is also convinced that it's a
girl; no question that it might be a boy, which reminds me of what my then-4-year-old
brother said when we were awaiting the arrival of our littlest brother: "I
want it to be a boy or a car."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thankfully for my mother, it was a boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, we shall see soon enough if C is right!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She's going to be a wonderful big sister. She
adores babies and I know she'll take good care of this one, too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNF9PIKcTvxyrDAjzZ3H8R02_bbZoXS7GUKlKCEat0ZCZCKtBXJdBmTkPCLptV-EMAFpV4ne3UQIiUdP5unxxjqsnFpfyuPhzFOJ_-PMN3jNqkxYqRWwBSD94e4Bdx5_vgynqge_balZE/s1600/IMG_3963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNF9PIKcTvxyrDAjzZ3H8R02_bbZoXS7GUKlKCEat0ZCZCKtBXJdBmTkPCLptV-EMAFpV4ne3UQIiUdP5unxxjqsnFpfyuPhzFOJ_-PMN3jNqkxYqRWwBSD94e4Bdx5_vgynqge_balZE/s400/IMG_3963.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This also happened this week: "Look at my lipstick, just like yours". Thank goodness for washable marker!</td></tr>
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Another challenge: I haven't been pregnant in extreme heat
before. We're not even in the Mauritian summer yet and already during the
middle of the day I feel like I'm melting!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyone got any tips on how to stay cool, other than the obvious
"stay inside”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully my sweet,
dear Mama-friend in Virginia shared her summertime maternity clothes with me and that has
been a lifesaver, given that almost everything I wore when expecting C was for
brisk Irish weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Between that and a couple of trips to Gap Maternity, I'm doing okay.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I haven't had any crazy cravings, and I didn't really last
time either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I eat more apples than I
can keep track of, and - if I'm being totally honest - the fact that they have
Cadbury's Dairy Milk chocolate here is NOT. GOOD. AT. ALL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>:Sigh:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somehow I have managed not to gain much weight so far this time
around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was expecting C, I gained
about 45lbs (can't believe I just admitted that).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did lose almost 30lbs in
the first week after I had her, so I know that most of it was water
weight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't know whether it's eating
gluten-free that's helping me this time, but I've gained maybe 15lbs so far and
I cannot understand how (see chocolate reference above, not to mention the
copious amounts of Indian food we consume in this house).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My feeling is that if I'm eating well,
healthily, with the occasional treat (or two), then it's all good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right?! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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On a more serious note, the month of October is Infant &
Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month (the day of remembrance was on October 15th).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are one of many, many Loss Mothers (or
Loss Fathers), my heart is with you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This terrible loss touches more people than you can imagine. Really, it
does, but perhaps because that grief is so consuming and so personal, it's not
something that is really talked about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Losing someone you haven't met, yet love so much, is a real, heart-wrenching
grief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's certainly something to think
about (and think twice before asking someone when they're going to hurry up and
have kids), particularly this month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
never take this pregnancy for granted and always try to remember that, while
I'm complaining about my sore back or getting up 3 times a night or any of the
other 'joys' that come with pregnancy, I am so blessed and lucky to be able to
have these complaints to begin with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Remembering all those little angels who never had a chance to meet their parents, who love them and miss them every day.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.plattsmouthnebraska.com/nl/images/pregnancy-infant-loss-remembrance-day.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="290" src="http://www.plattsmouthnebraska.com/nl/images/pregnancy-infant-loss-remembrance-day.png" width="400" /></a><a href="http://the-rumour-mill.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/miscarriage-infant-loss-stillbirth.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="http://the-rumour-mill.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/miscarriage-infant-loss-stillbirth.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-39970839853314621272013-09-17T23:15:00.001-07:002015-04-16T00:30:03.482-07:00On Home<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Home wasn't a set house, or a single town on a map. It was wherever the people who loved you were, whenever you were together. Not a place, but a moment, and then another, building on each other like bricks to create a solid shelter that you take with you for your entire life, wherever you may go.”</span><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b>~ Sarah Dessen, <i>What Happened to Goodbye</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #45818e; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrDINieiCJLYFa4hyphenhyphenSHbA1YMsyVjZ98GXXdzGrwITfVwCbuKeEgCErKYJ05lZCQprduQbUJTAva-qWq1yvCzKwNmW5PLA7mfu1MjFpyNklhTM4egfefwkYHW_UNOL7Uo_6QMoauL88lw/s1600/graceshomemap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrDINieiCJLYFa4hyphenhyphenSHbA1YMsyVjZ98GXXdzGrwITfVwCbuKeEgCErKYJ05lZCQprduQbUJTAva-qWq1yvCzKwNmW5PLA7mfu1MjFpyNklhTM4egfefwkYHW_UNOL7Uo_6QMoauL88lw/s640/graceshomemap.jpg" height="314" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My homes, so far.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
There's no place like...well, we all know how that ends, don't we? And to be completely honest, that's instinctively how I've felt since I set foot on Irish soil two days ago. It feels like I've never really left Dublin - perhaps I've just returned after a long weekend away somewhere. As if I can hop on the Dart and return to our apartment on Pembroke Road, just as we'd did a million times before we left. It's a strange feeling, this feeling of belonging to a place I haven't set foot on in over two years. Strange, but comforting. <br />
<br />
This feeling has left me contemplating home: the idea, the meaning of what and where and with whom home is. I joke that I am a "global nomad", a moniker even more fitting given the new path we have taken in the last year. I dread the question "where are you from?". My childhood was spent straddling the Irish Sea - each Summer and Winter was spent in the UK until I was 15, no matter where else in the world we called home for the remainder of the year. The first home I remember, for the first 6 years of my life, was in <a href="http://ataleofgracek.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-winters-walk.html" target="_blank">London</a>, in a flat in the North of the city. I remember it as clearly as if I were there yesterday. It had an interior courtyard with a small garden, with low walls that I used to walk as if on a balance beam, Sue gripping my hand tightly when I felt unsure of my footing. My bedroom had multi-coloured star wallpaper, a bright window, and my beloved box set of Beatrix Potter books on the bookshelf. The very same books that are on C's bookshelf, in her bedroom now.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.birdchildsandgoldsmith.com/acatalog/clifton1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.birdchildsandgoldsmith.com/acatalog/clifton1.gif" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where I grew up in London. <a href="http://www.birdchildsandgoldsmith.com/acatalog/Slome_Memories.html" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When our family had grown from three to five (plus the addition of Sue, our family's wonderful nanny who lived with us for 27 years, and who we all miss every day), we hopped back over the Irish Sea to Rostrevor, Northern Ireland, where we spent the following five years in a big old Georgian house, painted rose pink, with sprawling gardens lined with daffodils in the early spring and roses in the summertime. The house was nestled within rhododendron bushes the size of oak trees, and behind it was a dilapidated old farm, in which the ghosts of the animals once housed there captured my imagination and inspired many a play time with my siblings. They were very happy years for us, despite the less than happy state of Northern Ireland at that time.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://rostrevorholidays.com/wp-content/gallery/local-area/view-from-above-rostrevor_1296x864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://rostrevorholidays.com/wp-content/gallery/local-area/view-from-above-rostrevor_1296x864.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can just about see our Rostrevor home in this photo, hidden in the trees. <a href="http://rostrevorholidays.com/wp-content/gallery/local-area/view-from-above-rostrevor_1296x864.jpg" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the early 90's, a drastic move brought my family across the Atlantic to Birmingham, Alabama, where my formative years were spent. Again, for me these were most happy years, I was very fortunate to slip easily into schools I loved and make lifelong friends. I was so fortunate to have a very happy childhood. From there I went to Washington DC, Paris, New York, and North Carolina - all homes of varying duration for me as an adult. And aside from holidays here and there, I did not return to live in Ireland until late 2007 - 2011. All of this has resulted in some rather confused feelings about where, and what, I consider 'home'.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/03/09/48/93/vulcan-park-and-museum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/03/09/48/93/vulcan-park-and-museum.jpg" height="452" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vulcan, overlooking downtown Birmingham (or, the Magic City, as it's lovingly referred to).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I always - first and foremost - identify myself as being Irish, even though I'm a dual-passport carrying Irish and US citizen. I'm Irish in my blood, it's the country of my birth, it's where my family reside. It is home to many memories of my youth and subsequent years, and, as such, I think it understandable and fair that I call and consider myself Irish, although almost everyone who meets me (especially the Irish) identifies me as American. An unwilling "accent chameleon", I truly cannot control the accent with which I speak - it's not something I have ever been able to do. My first accent was a posh little London accent, quickly replaced by a Northern Irish accent, and then a sweet Southern (American) drawl for our years spent in the Deep South. All of this was unwilling and unintentional. These days, I sound almost entirely American, perhaps with an bit of Irish thrown in here or there. It all makes for a very confused cultural identity, and lots of very confused looks when I tell people that no, I actually <i>AM</i> Irish, born and bred.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.sodahead.com/polls/003682933/59149955_Flag_Pins_Ireland_USA_xlarge.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://images.sodahead.com/polls/003682933/59149955_Flag_Pins_Ireland_USA_xlarge.jpeg" height="256" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://scm-l3.technorati.com/11/09/12/51021/Flag-Pins-Ireland-USA.jpg?t=20110912100518" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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Having said all that, I have always felt very much at home in the States. Perhaps that's because the majority of my closest friends live there. Or the fact that I've spent the majority of my life living there, particularly during those important formative years. But the conflicting notion of home is something I find very hard to explain to others - it's not something many people can relate to. And all this moving - this uprooting - has resulted in my not being able to fathom the idea of living in one place for the rest of my life. How would I do that? Could I do that? I'm not sure I could happily do that. Unlike so many of my friends who grew up and now still live in the same place, my family (immediate and by marriage) is on two sides of a rather large ocean, not all in the same town or city. P and I will always live with at least one of us being far away from our family. It just doesn't seem to be our reality to put down roots anywhere. Having DC as a home-base at the moment is about as close as we will come to that, at least for now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiewCuGd2iCIX2IvYV_nxESSpq6fwFhvEXA2ZoRlK1kJg1UI63D1irzSGvV_HKYtwBoZsuVzH0RA7GDZiqHUz4xr_HrJwetzmPNNdwgFkIAbuiVEPDgz3-qLmq2AGvDVfqjzTgQYgMEQTs/s1600/North+Carolina+June+2006+027r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiewCuGd2iCIX2IvYV_nxESSpq6fwFhvEXA2ZoRlK1kJg1UI63D1irzSGvV_HKYtwBoZsuVzH0RA7GDZiqHUz4xr_HrJwetzmPNNdwgFkIAbuiVEPDgz3-qLmq2AGvDVfqjzTgQYgMEQTs/s640/North+Carolina+June+2006+027r.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">P + I as newlyweds, outside the first place that we ever called home, in Fayetteville, NC, 2006.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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As I grow older and - I hope - wiser, I'm coming to learn that home really, truly is where the heart is. Could it sound any more <span style="font-family: inherit;">clich<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.77777862548828px;">é</span></span>? For me, at this moment in my life, the majority of my heart is here in Mauritius, with my husband, my daughter, and this little munchkin in my belly. But I feel that I've left little pieces of my heart scattered across the globe: in Ireland with my family there; in London, my brother's home and a city I haven't lived in for over 25 years that still holds a connection for me that I can't explain; in Birmingham, a city I love so much, with friends and memories I hold dear; in beautiful Paris where I spent six incredible but challenging and important months of my life, a city I connected with on a very personal level; in Washington DC, city of my college years, where I met the love of my life, the city that is our new home-base in this Foreign Service life. <br />
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For me, home isn't necessarily a place. It's with the people I love and care about. It that feeling of being flooded with a sense of peace and comfort and security as soon as I am welcomed through a door and into the embrace of a person I love and hold dear. It's the safety of not having to explain yourself, letting any walls slip away and so you can just be you. It's a place where, although the people who once lived there with you may now be gone, the remaining friendships and memories are enough to make me feel completely at ease. I feel fortunate to have felt at home in quite a few places. But most importantly, it's comforting to know that I am at home when I am with the people I love. And as our global adventure continues, I think it's something I'll cling to more and more. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lw4q2s3xyb1qel94oo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lw4q2s3xyb1qel94oo1_500.jpg" height="468" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lw4q2s3xyb1qel94oo1_500.jpg" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-23626886821685947842013-09-15T23:09:00.000-07:002015-04-16T00:35:54.934-07:00Ma Vie Mauricienne<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-leiGgxuSZy2BB3X23h2GHe-0bes-s6XtwCqre6pe7FyZNYZ-qxZLCBu6HUyhaE2vlgdZ25Qddp3Z5RZJjMsfOgBKCqgi_A_Z410CmeRTkcNa1L0q5s2DBYtIZlu80Wlghdggf1Q3LE/s1600/Carys+hunting+for+Crabs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-leiGgxuSZy2BB3X23h2GHe-0bes-s6XtwCqre6pe7FyZNYZ-qxZLCBu6HUyhaE2vlgdZ25Qddp3Z5RZJjMsfOgBKCqgi_A_Z410CmeRTkcNa1L0q5s2DBYtIZlu80Wlghdggf1Q3LE/s640/Carys+hunting+for+Crabs.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">C on "our" beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Three full weeks have passed since we touched down on Mauritian soil. It's hard to believe that we are approaching a full month of life here, yet here we are. It seems the last three weeks were a bit of a whirlwind, we hit the ground running, you might say. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first glimpse of our new home, flying in over the North of the Island.</td></tr>
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We arrived one Wednesday noon-time after what seemed like an endless journey. True, we only traveled from Ireland (I write that as if it's no distance, which it is, actually, but at least we had the six hour distance from the States behind us already), but it was a long time of being in planes and airport layovers: an hour and a half to Paris, almost 6 hour layover in Paris, followed by an 11 hour flight to Mauritius, 8 hours of which C slept, mercifully. <br />
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C had a particularly difficult departure from Dublin - lots of tears and crying, which translated to lots of frustration and stressing on the part of her parents (and lots of bewildered and annoyed looks from fellow travellers, which only infuriated me more). She clearly knew we were leaving her grandparents, aunts and uncles for a while and I think all the change over the last couple of months has been very difficult for her to process. Our almost month-long visit in Ireland was wonderful, but also very difficult in that C didn't settle into any semblance of her routine the entire time we were there. We began to worry that it was a change in her routine that would stick, but since we've been here, in our own new house, and she has her own room with her familiar bedding and toys, thankfully things have been much better.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGdHmlJmbOOOSM1SqdG8nuLkS3e_qM4A1H4w7USQQa8xGyln0aSYCJRfZiiinXAXXGNJmx77frOz1RSy0t0Bt3u3OZTn7ZOlx2dcS3VaZHUNhSU4cxl5k66TQEbXqaeYj4IYDOdQixuI/s1600/Carys+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGdHmlJmbOOOSM1SqdG8nuLkS3e_qM4A1H4w7USQQa8xGyln0aSYCJRfZiiinXAXXGNJmx77frOz1RSy0t0Bt3u3OZTn7ZOlx2dcS3VaZHUNhSU4cxl5k66TQEbXqaeYj4IYDOdQixuI/s640/Carys+Beach.jpg" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
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P began his new job at the embassy the day after we arrived, while C and I explored "our" beach and enjoyed a nap to try to catch up on the month of terrible sleep we both had prior to our arrival. We got together with some of the other newly arrived families from the embassy on Friday evening at a local restaurant whose dining room is open to the beach. We watched the sun set, ate fresh, local food and enjoyed getting to know the families who I hope will become our friends during this tour. It seems like we have a really great group of people here!<br />
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The next week brought more changes - C started preschool. French preschool, no less. They take their preschool seriously here. The little ones go every day - 3 full days and 2 half days. It's a lot, and there are no naps. A HUGE adjustment for our girl, given that I've been lucky enough to have her home with me her entire 3.5 years until now. She wears a little uniform and looks awfully adorable, if I do say so myself....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C in her other uniform option. But she's a skirt girl, all the way.</td></tr>
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The first week was rough. I mean really, really rough. She has always expressed a desire to go to school, but I'm not sure whether it was just too many changes at once or the language barrier (though thankfully she has another little American friend in her class and her teachers speak English and do 2 days a week with some lessons in English), but she panicked, big time. All those stories you hear about kids screaming, crying, clinging to their parents - that was my child. I was so surprised because she always been fiercely independent and not shown too much worry about me leaving to go anywhere in the past. So naturally, as I'm drowning in pregnancy hormones as it is, I became a big crying mess, too (albeit after I'd prised myself away so as not to upset her more). <br />
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Thankfully, after the first week things have improved - some days she is so excited after her "such fun day at school, Mama", other days she says "but I don't like my school". This morning, she looked at me very seriously and said "I'm not going to say 'I don't like my school'. I'm not going to say that, Mummy". I was very proud of my big girl! I know I'm not the only mother out there who has had their heart broken when their child is distraught about going to school, but nothing quite prepares you for it when it actually happens.<br />
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Emotional milestones aside, it really does feel like paradise here. We are so lucky and blessed. We love it here so far. Especially C:<br />
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There's so much more to tell but I'll save that for another post, or two. For now, I'll leave you with some photos of "our" beach, as we've come to call it. We are lucky enough to live across a dirt street from the beach you'll see in all the photos below - it's a small beach - mostly private and rental homes and a small hotel on the opposite end. Here's a glimpse of why we love it oh so much.<br />
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Ok, who's coming to visit?!<br />
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<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com3Mauritius-20.348404 57.552151999999978-35.844678 36.897854999999979 -4.8521299999999989 78.206448999999978tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-49919805995525665092013-09-13T02:03:00.001-07:002013-09-13T02:03:38.120-07:00Off She Goes....<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRL1op1aAE-vBnWUV_Cxavv6fKHsvxXLLJL5PN1JC5quyV1fkJbWwYKMxm8UwIzoYAzuRC6TkWYV6S6lG8jC3YR9ulJgptKOVZmy_WUopcQFcvHQPviwfidlbKWhzmLA0U5l-FF7J6GrU/s1600/C+First+Day+of+School.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRL1op1aAE-vBnWUV_Cxavv6fKHsvxXLLJL5PN1JC5quyV1fkJbWwYKMxm8UwIzoYAzuRC6TkWYV6S6lG8jC3YR9ulJgptKOVZmy_WUopcQFcvHQPviwfidlbKWhzmLA0U5l-FF7J6GrU/s640/C+First+Day+of+School.jpg" width="436" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm a little late with my "first day" photo, as school started 3 weeks ago. <br />We've been just a tiny bit busy over here, I hope you understand!<br /></td></tr>
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How is it possible that my baby girl is old enough to go to preschool already?? The time is simply flying by and I can hardly believe it! Some days she loves school and some days she doesn't, all I know is that I miss her terribly when she's there and can't wait to see this sweet face every day when I pick her up (she seems pretty pleased to see me, too). :)<br />
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More posts to come about life in Mauritius next week - I promise!!<br />
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Bon weekend, tout le monde!Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-9370422327226158812013-07-26T07:29:00.001-07:002013-07-26T07:29:17.937-07:00We Made It.......to Ireland (this time next month we'll be in Mauritius, don't worry!).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are lucky to have an excellent little traveller, even if she doesn't sleep on the plane!</td></tr>
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The trip over was as smooth as a long trip like that can go. We flew from Dulles to Paris (on the biggest plane I've ever seen/been on in my entire life, an <a href="http://blog.flightstory.net/wp-content/uploads/air-france_first-a380.jpg" target="_blank">Airbus a380</a>. It's like a tank with wings - I could hardly believe my eyes!), arriving at 5:30 in the morning and had to wait until 10:15am for our flight to Dublin. C didn't sleep on either flight but crashed for 3 hours in the stroller at Charles de Gaulle. Thank goodness for these fabulous chaise lounge-esque little clouds of comfort scattered throughout the terminal. Can't begin to describe how much I appreciated these while C stroller-snoozed.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span><br />
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We made it to Dublin happily, in one piece. Aunty R was at the airport to meet us, we were both "so glad to see her" (this is C's favourite thing to say these days, btw).<br />
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Yesterday we took a looong nap and enjoyed a beautiful afternoon at the playground. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing beats Ireland when the weather is like this.</td></tr>
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On this, our second full day in Ireland, we woke to blue skies and warm temperatures. C and I took the Dart (train) to Howth and spent a perfect morning there - popped in for a quick decaf coffee, went to the playground, walked along to see the seals and the boats. We tried to go last night and got positively drenched in an American-style downpour! It was fun, though, I must admit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indulging in a chocolate croissant on the Dart home. </td></tr>
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Right now I'm making a late lunch listening to the pitter-pat of my daughters tiny feet getting out of bed. Since we arrived here, she refuses to go to sleep without me going to sleep in the room with her. This is completely out of sorts for her (she's a fantastic sleeper, normally) and it's driving me crazy as I don't want to start that habit, but so far it's the only way she's getting sleep. I'm just not sure what to do about it - I've never dealt with a jet-lagged 3 year old before (although I'd better get used to it). Anyone with tips to share is more than welcome - nearing desperation here!!<br />
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Tomorrow we're off to the other coast to stay at my parents house for a while. Looking forward to a weekend full of family (minus my hubby - missing you!).<br />
<br />Happy weekend, everyone!<br />
<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-76291876402117182822013-07-23T06:48:00.005-07:002013-07-23T06:48:54.364-07:00Our Bags Are Packed....<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<a href="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/About/General/2010/7/20/1279643284833/Air-France-plane-flying-o-006.jpg" target="_blank">via</a></div>
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It's hard to believe but today is the day C & I leave the States, most likely for a couple of years. We're off to Ireland (via Paris) to spend three and a half weeks with my family. P will join us soon for part of that time (we miss him already) in August, before we head to our new, tropical home toward in about a month.<div>
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Last Thursday, the movers came and packed our life up into big brown boxes, to be shipped to us in Mauritius, (we hope) very soon. P & I were counting, and in our 8 years of marriage we've seen our lives put into boxes 11 times. Now you see why the Foreign Service is such a perfect fit for us!</div>
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We miss our American family and friends already - please keep in touch! See you on the other side! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://thealvinisaac.blogspot.com/2012/05/au-revoir-semester-2.html" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-46781383691856081392013-07-16T05:09:00.004-07:002013-07-16T05:09:43.518-07:00He's in the the Foreign what?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://twocrabs.blogs.com/.a/6a00d83451da8b69e20120a5179209970b-400wi" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://twocrabs.blogs.com/.a/6a00d83451da8b69e20120a5179209970b-400wi" width="199" /></a></div>
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Two of the most frequently asked questions I have received in the past year are "So what exactly is the Foreign Service?", and "What exactly does your husband do now?". Fair enough - I was fairly clueless about the Foreign Service before P started the application process back in 2011. And as the departure date for our first Foreign Service post approaches, I'll be referencing this crazy, exciting life we signed up for more and more frequently. With that in mind, for those of you who are curious, I thought I'd answer those two questions and fill you in on what our life has been like since P signed on the dotted line with the US Foreign Service.<br />
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First, a little background: when P first mentioned that he was going to apply to join the FS to me back in June 2011, admittedly, I only half listened (sorry, honey). We were living in Dublin at the time and had made the decision that, for many reasons, it was best for our family to move back to the States. Through his work in Dublin, P met an American Foreign Service Office who worked at the US Embassy (which was, quite literally, a block from where we lived). They chatted a bit about life in Ireland as an American expat and P became increasingly curious about the mysterious life that American diplomats lead and decided to do some more research, which whetted his appetite and prompted him to embark on the process that would ultimately make FS his new career. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/65/US_Embassy_London_view_from_SE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/65/US_Embassy_London_view_from_SE.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The US Embassy in London - site of the first phase exam. Fun fact: I spent a looooong day there when I was 9, when my family applied for their green cards prior to our move to 'Bama! Hasn't changed a bit, but <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/7302771/US-London-embassy-trades-Mayfair-mansion-for-futuristic-cube-in-Battersea.html" target="_blank">I hear it will in the not too distant future</a>.... <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:US_Embassy_London_view_from_SE.jpg" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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He went online, and applied and registered to take the first phase of a series of tests that would ultimately take a year to complete (you can read all about that <a href="http://careers.state.gov/officer/selection-process" target="_blank">here</a>). We thought that test would be extremely convenient as he could just walk 5 minutes down the road to the Embassy to take the test. Nope! He had to fly to London to take it at the US Embassy there. It was a multiple choice/essay exam - based primarily on US history and government and politics and all that good stuff. It took a while but we learned that he passed and could proceed to the next phase, which was a personal narrative concentrating on his experience and the "knowledge, skills, and abilities" he would bring to the foreign service. While we were waiting to hear if he passed that phase, we moved back to the States, to the DC area. After a couple of months, we heard he passed and could progress to the final stage of testing, the QEP (Oral Assessment). Around this time, we also learned how competitive this process was and I felt even more proud of my better half. :) I think he was a little nervous about this last test - we heard it was very tough and very competitive. Apparently there are no guarantees that anyone will be accepted at the end of the day (which ended up being a very long day: 7AM - 4PM!).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home base, Washington DC. <a href="http://www.glassdoor.com/Photos/US-Department-of-State-Washington-DC-Office-Photos-EI_IE32768.0,22_IL.23,36_IM911.htm" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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Luckily, there was no waiting to find out if he passed. At the end of the exam, each person was individually taken into a room and told whether they passed or not. Obviously, he passed, along with only 2 other people out of 35! I was a proud wife that night and there was much to celebrate, but there still wasn't a job offer yet. After his acceptance, he was told that he would be ranked by score along with all the other people who have passed. Then, he had to wait until his number came up. That could take as long as 18 months and if it didn't happen by then, he'd be off the list and would have to start all over again. We were told not to make any major life decisions based on the possibility that this might happen, so with that in mind we moved for a short time to Columbus, Ohio, where P worked for a big bank. Five months into that job, he got his official offer to join the Foreign Service and we packed up and moved back to Northern Virginia to begin a new life and a new career. <br />
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Phew! Are you still with me?<br />
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So, to answer the first question, the Foreign Service (a part of the Department of State), carries out the foreign policy of the US and helps its citizens abroad. A Foreign Service Officer (FSO) - more generally known as diplomats - are men or women who seek to fulfil the mission of the FS, serving in any of the 265 embassies, consulates, or diplomatic missions around the world, and at home (UN, anyone?). Some of these locations are fantastic (think Paris, London, Rome, Sydney), some are not (Iraq, Afghanistan, etc). When you start out as a diplomat you do 2-year assignments, as you progress they can be 3 or 4 year assignments. The highest position you can reach in the Foreign Service is ambassador. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">US Diplomat Passport. We just got ours. Feels kinda 007-ish. :)<br />
<a href="http://www.acus.org/content/us-diplomatic-passport" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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To answer the second question: first of all, see the answer to question #1. :) To be more specific, right now he is spending every waking moment studying French (widely spoken in Mauritius) - quite literally, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. When we move to Mauritius, he'll be working at the embassy as the Political/Military Officer, where he'll be working on issues such as human rights, aid projects, human trafficking, and piracy in maritime Africa. We move there this summer and we will be there for 2 years. About half way through that time we'll find out where we're going next. As P is a new FSO, his next post will (should) be consular, meaning visa processing and American citizen services, probably in another French speaking country. I'll talk about that more in a future post, along with what our housing situation has been for the last year, what it will be like in Mauritius, and anything else that I you might find interesting. We are so excited to embark on this adventure and I hope you'll be a long for the ride!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you had no idea where it was. Don't worry, we were a little foggy on that initially, too. <a href="http://www.worldatlas.com/webimage/countrys/africa/mu.htm#.UdR32D7F288" target="_blank">via</a></td></tr>
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<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-46179791159990691612013-07-10T06:45:00.001-07:002013-07-10T06:45:38.017-07:00Life In Technicolor {Photos}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well hello! It has been a long time since I posted a real post (anniversary post excepted). Life kinda got in the way there for a while. </div>
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What have we been up to? Here's a peek:</div>
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~ In February, P & I escaped for a weekend away. It was our first weekend away by ourselves in a long time and it was much needed. My sister- and brother-in-law were stars and watched C so we could have some down time in Cape May, NJ - a lovely, sleepy (in the winter) seaside town that was just what the doctor ordered. We spent our last night in the historic <a href="http://www.congresshall.com/" target="_blank">Congress Hall</a>. It was perfect. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmpk8IeSJFNYYRDIO4oRYcfFct7CCu4Qxgg0qG0rTXqIyGJL1h9mJOCyI8IBjp9EryU1aLBLWsN7og7UM_fOta5Egn_Ehu2kgNyY_3bLaIgURSmnyCnIgd2Rjbiv4Nzhha6XRF1ttqdA/s1600/2013-02-17+09.12.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPmpk8IeSJFNYYRDIO4oRYcfFct7CCu4Qxgg0qG0rTXqIyGJL1h9mJOCyI8IBjp9EryU1aLBLWsN7og7UM_fOta5Egn_Ehu2kgNyY_3bLaIgURSmnyCnIgd2Rjbiv4Nzhha6XRF1ttqdA/s320/2013-02-17+09.12.11.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVB2P5UmMs5u8kpu4SHgZJraHLqeUpfYfbLtLCVZ94Zr1zNhUvgNPOcREA2jAhRJHMHktvw2d2JVY1hSqjfMyTLLXUyW_kTOfRB8KEgbivTPGCuFK56aDNP278eQe72em2EPjRMrmFPI/s1600/2013-02-17+11.27.10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVB2P5UmMs5u8kpu4SHgZJraHLqeUpfYfbLtLCVZ94Zr1zNhUvgNPOcREA2jAhRJHMHktvw2d2JVY1hSqjfMyTLLXUyW_kTOfRB8KEgbivTPGCuFK56aDNP278eQe72em2EPjRMrmFPI/s320/2013-02-17+11.27.10.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR7XN_ZPMIime4IScjcR5T9FARI9pT6tFbNt6AEJFMyrmQPepdgIahhk6EDR9sJTLte8l0KLZV4QOttPxYMtnPHSO20kubGeFO2na326McyZpmnnL7L5z6EH-Kq1Rd5cx7wSkGSeVRBE/s1600/2013-02-16+12.54.21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR7XN_ZPMIime4IScjcR5T9FARI9pT6tFbNt6AEJFMyrmQPepdgIahhk6EDR9sJTLte8l0KLZV4QOttPxYMtnPHSO20kubGeFO2na326McyZpmnnL7L5z6EH-Kq1Rd5cx7wSkGSeVRBE/s320/2013-02-16+12.54.21.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Congress Hall. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBviJ1r0SUJtwfAXgjKl2irbW2A2QDU4p2HBOkwwplqGKwK-rRu-ZXt5F-rlzN-_2hH8I6oRwvGcieSvjtJHFys20xG0wbZHq_4Zw8KuMyW-3STUWi0pHB5Uw9PbIXJSO_r09k7GeoC38/s1600/2013-02-17+15.32.58.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBviJ1r0SUJtwfAXgjKl2irbW2A2QDU4p2HBOkwwplqGKwK-rRu-ZXt5F-rlzN-_2hH8I6oRwvGcieSvjtJHFys20xG0wbZHq_4Zw8KuMyW-3STUWi0pHB5Uw9PbIXJSO_r09k7GeoC38/s320/2013-02-17+15.32.58.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFtwLWjyc1nrAHT2am3mWBdLyVqqt-3DMRGPZrY57Dl2LdV6AdDjCC7SVaTvPrvZCxa8Rbi14v1B6Ye3vgTbFn6aSX7F_3d3aEpjDlN7mqIZao25570F0wHTzLCw3ZY4xledfhgzq4gw/s1600/2013-02-17+14.04.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFtwLWjyc1nrAHT2am3mWBdLyVqqt-3DMRGPZrY57Dl2LdV6AdDjCC7SVaTvPrvZCxa8Rbi14v1B6Ye3vgTbFn6aSX7F_3d3aEpjDlN7mqIZao25570F0wHTzLCw3ZY4xledfhgzq4gw/s320/2013-02-17+14.04.43.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Georges Place. YUM!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZS951VJsi29xuUJlizm5ex5hedDwUbhjlkmmQ571oSiQvLslnrpXNyXsmXmk2JvDA3ll5_vpnkzMcClFxVpZY-F3IJfkZuIb_dDluDiHmzTHArD8Ad8dZRnl4h9xllWW_XshgIA9xRM/s1600/2013-02-17+15.42.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZS951VJsi29xuUJlizm5ex5hedDwUbhjlkmmQ571oSiQvLslnrpXNyXsmXmk2JvDA3ll5_vpnkzMcClFxVpZY-F3IJfkZuIb_dDluDiHmzTHArD8Ad8dZRnl4h9xllWW_XshgIA9xRM/s320/2013-02-17+15.42.53.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjil2q33XCVaU60sQqcBQqdvMdPvvrga88RxNLJwDUQkeobsYqtfS2NVODlV5xzZr0zVRSs5IEiTehYvcPKxoXq2b_0kAMxRvgqp1P8VeKAVxv_dJJIg763z_akqqoLIJ0-l8VZdmPa3Z4/s1600/2013-02-17+15.43.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjil2q33XCVaU60sQqcBQqdvMdPvvrga88RxNLJwDUQkeobsYqtfS2NVODlV5xzZr0zVRSs5IEiTehYvcPKxoXq2b_0kAMxRvgqp1P8VeKAVxv_dJJIg763z_akqqoLIJ0-l8VZdmPa3Z4/s320/2013-02-17+15.43.25.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwOMe2d7mBP9dAUU9GUT6pjrW0tU48lr3Oe1QLCqXKUTWFCznaGcLCOgb3dLrhxQMJ4kHkR4cqzdw7KASOKA0gMXmGp1A21DzdhyphenhyphenixSpJJ7jLF-d6CJg0z8KghARKLdwxHcWQ7uVSiEY/s1600/2013-02-17+15.44.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwOMe2d7mBP9dAUU9GUT6pjrW0tU48lr3Oe1QLCqXKUTWFCznaGcLCOgb3dLrhxQMJ4kHkR4cqzdw7KASOKA0gMXmGp1A21DzdhyphenhyphenixSpJJ7jLF-d6CJg0z8KghARKLdwxHcWQ7uVSiEY/s320/2013-02-17+15.44.06.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqycjezAGb77koV0uxpOHHSYJlXRBqgQJRTfla6uXmYxz-XstuloNNeqDsNkWnLidFh1m-n8RpHXkLV9PlTcbkHY02LEaZP_jzOYXJr90htPi9XpXSByNtsPRDBnHCuItt-5GV9iTm0SI/s1600/2013-02-17+15.32.44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqycjezAGb77koV0uxpOHHSYJlXRBqgQJRTfla6uXmYxz-XstuloNNeqDsNkWnLidFh1m-n8RpHXkLV9PlTcbkHY02LEaZP_jzOYXJr90htPi9XpXSByNtsPRDBnHCuItt-5GV9iTm0SI/s320/2013-02-17+15.32.44.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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~ On the way home, we detoured to NJ and visited my cousin, her husband, and adorable three little girls (plus friend)! It was great to see them!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA0zlybQXSrchHtCN10MtrcNM3V-VoK9CLTJBLW_Ddk_lFOhQecYfgSyo8SLCoJ30m08eAkoP_MnAAq7r6WIuQJOCQ_Z0wl7CC8MT6j0BfQyXJtUBtnnT41N_olMurVk5CIePQ12inbM/s1600/2013-02-18+14.55.02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHA0zlybQXSrchHtCN10MtrcNM3V-VoK9CLTJBLW_Ddk_lFOhQecYfgSyo8SLCoJ30m08eAkoP_MnAAq7r6WIuQJOCQ_Z0wl7CC8MT6j0BfQyXJtUBtnnT41N_olMurVk5CIePQ12inbM/s320/2013-02-18+14.55.02.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheB_JeMqvNJqfiHAKqY07Gqn2KXEnNUYHQsRLr3FYkMCWM8jBeE0f2uR_4hk9lBHTQ-ZDvFUk_rkhW5qGRZbIlFvt5sTXupCI9t25u8YT5SjV5SI6Tdn9bflTbyITPVFGfPlIVDsO32j8/s1600/2013-02-18+14.56.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheB_JeMqvNJqfiHAKqY07Gqn2KXEnNUYHQsRLr3FYkMCWM8jBeE0f2uR_4hk9lBHTQ-ZDvFUk_rkhW5qGRZbIlFvt5sTXupCI9t25u8YT5SjV5SI6Tdn9bflTbyITPVFGfPlIVDsO32j8/s320/2013-02-18+14.56.38.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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~ My daughter sleeps on her head, which, in the morning, can frequently result in this incredible sight (please note, I did not brush this - it took me 30 minutes to gently comb the tangles out): </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUL5KjBpEQCovcKLg5Ephmc-mXGKlfH4EcO6BzugyOqudANdOpo8TgDo3CzUcFseE4KsoualfSeyg3VeriFNW8JiLAFKC0Y0MRmLbwVfaVhZvM1_bXunoDLgy87V3PD1cUAjWiM6CzeY/s1600/2013-02-20+10.17.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPUL5KjBpEQCovcKLg5Ephmc-mXGKlfH4EcO6BzugyOqudANdOpo8TgDo3CzUcFseE4KsoualfSeyg3VeriFNW8JiLAFKC0Y0MRmLbwVfaVhZvM1_bXunoDLgy87V3PD1cUAjWiM6CzeY/s320/2013-02-20+10.17.05.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsvevmeUceDz42dGAVBHGiE83jWuXlq2YekmJKoIl3hrqIvjezxM9RjZVf1q8wxueJ17EpjUR-ZQm8GkgGH4M7sTs-99XSE-JvqhCN-IAg9ieBp3xbnzLFVZKFH2NuX0GebjHAL7btbw/s1600/2013-02-20+10.17.34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsvevmeUceDz42dGAVBHGiE83jWuXlq2YekmJKoIl3hrqIvjezxM9RjZVf1q8wxueJ17EpjUR-ZQm8GkgGH4M7sTs-99XSE-JvqhCN-IAg9ieBp3xbnzLFVZKFH2NuX0GebjHAL7btbw/s320/2013-02-20+10.17.34.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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~ Trader Joes had daffodils in March. Daffodils remind me of the garden of my childhood home in <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=rostrevor+northern+ireland&hl=en&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=V47VUbnJCPOx4APzzIC4Cw&sqi=2&ved=0CDoQsAQ&biw=1280&bih=632" target="_blank">Rostrevor, N. Ireland</a> (one of the most beautiful places in the world, IMO), which had hundreds of the most beautiful daffodils I've ever seen. They never fail to make me happy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzJiaQf3PSZqIhbe_DpMs1nnUlhm9SnKg4aa5n5XFfp-Feoo_bMybthShAcZdCjrBhijQY7XYeMXH7SOh3SnqgLXYdalnihsgNzGGdpVjXg69Ze29-L8pYl0ZjoXDfmjfzNIwE2jMVBk/s1600/2013-02-21+14.05.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzJiaQf3PSZqIhbe_DpMs1nnUlhm9SnKg4aa5n5XFfp-Feoo_bMybthShAcZdCjrBhijQY7XYeMXH7SOh3SnqgLXYdalnihsgNzGGdpVjXg69Ze29-L8pYl0ZjoXDfmjfzNIwE2jMVBk/s320/2013-02-21+14.05.18.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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~ I made French Onion Soup (recipe from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lunch-Paris-Love-Story-Recipes/dp/0316042781/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1302779767&sr=1-1" target="_blank">this book</a>, which is a great little read, by the way). It was DELISH. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_6dMV8Jx4nsPDUc_pvzdID_u2QPGhcI5czqVyLhX9Ul3_m5aRMuoQVpuUsNREivxwldWCNYUvYZ5oj15hj8o0Q0L0cadT1mtcumEB9HNsKyhSgBmH3O46trZhTRe3SC3SO8ZS1-VSGU/s1600/2013-02-21+21.48.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_6dMV8Jx4nsPDUc_pvzdID_u2QPGhcI5czqVyLhX9Ul3_m5aRMuoQVpuUsNREivxwldWCNYUvYZ5oj15hj8o0Q0L0cadT1mtcumEB9HNsKyhSgBmH3O46trZhTRe3SC3SO8ZS1-VSGU/s320/2013-02-21+21.48.33.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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~ I am 'old school' when it comes to children's shoes - I favour traditional styles. I used to wear ones exactly like this when I was a little girl. I think there's nothing cuter, although I'm sure she'll grow to hate them by age 7 like I did for a brief time. Hopefully she'll fall in love with them again when she has little feet of her own to dress. (Photo by C).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIdI3_Z_v-djELwhsSNf3ajIXvyEPNl-CV8_gdJvoyzZJdo4PHRXwQS6HU_-eqtet4JEFWGq85wPVjS3p7BBm-GbyW-qcP-fYghyxXiSkNTV7uITOVXmRxS04TzNHNmshyphenhyphenV5ahjM3m9Q/s1600/2013-02-24+15.07.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUIdI3_Z_v-djELwhsSNf3ajIXvyEPNl-CV8_gdJvoyzZJdo4PHRXwQS6HU_-eqtet4JEFWGq85wPVjS3p7BBm-GbyW-qcP-fYghyxXiSkNTV7uITOVXmRxS04TzNHNmshyphenhyphenV5ahjM3m9Q/s320/2013-02-24+15.07.12.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPu81z70shygt2FZC72K6Mtk1Wec15j4bH_qxuKE26fkUHmGNVpjvCFPj-jMA0gt5hTzygZEEqxfCKxY61WTHvuYaJzW1Sz6ZtOu5QhQlQKhhM1ymFJNfe-Q53rBww3I6NDuGNNGH5TuI/s612/2013-04-18+09.31.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPu81z70shygt2FZC72K6Mtk1Wec15j4bH_qxuKE26fkUHmGNVpjvCFPj-jMA0gt5hTzygZEEqxfCKxY61WTHvuYaJzW1Sz6ZtOu5QhQlQKhhM1ymFJNfe-Q53rBww3I6NDuGNNGH5TuI/s320/2013-04-18+09.31.39.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Check out my shoes.</td></tr>
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~ This exists (#griffendor4eva):<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhvQpouFeAN0Y2xOiaPwjS7DxAlxkIISnhODf1EUnPXWrXc81qDy9Yyg2I5f9hEElLziQQEjYqHweI1maQqiGcMGAju45FcJhAGxXB_ucLsLzn_PKWfRXzISRjGWffZ98WUnz5pMIwbg/s1600/2013-02-22+17.39.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhvQpouFeAN0Y2xOiaPwjS7DxAlxkIISnhODf1EUnPXWrXc81qDy9Yyg2I5f9hEElLziQQEjYqHweI1maQqiGcMGAju45FcJhAGxXB_ucLsLzn_PKWfRXzISRjGWffZ98WUnz5pMIwbg/s320/2013-02-22+17.39.52.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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~ We took C to the circus for the first time - she was mesmerised - after which, she had great fun playing the (sassy) tattooed lady.<br />
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~ C's subconscious, as-yet undiscovered love for Great Britian reveals itself in the strangest ways...</div>
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~ We had a mother/daughter date a Super Why Live! She looooved it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0r21F00Hvmr9yZ_LTnkZm0Eelc9YyfogTJITI4pR81Xp8EwAhyuI1py8jZpJ8SB_CdV5YN4J5e96Tn8NErrRlM2pYR5vW8bD0DsfKulzln33-lVoWe4GlXq_yhZwTfzk1pc45nHJ9MI/s1600/2013-05-01+14.52.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix0r21F00Hvmr9yZ_LTnkZm0Eelc9YyfogTJITI4pR81Xp8EwAhyuI1py8jZpJ8SB_CdV5YN4J5e96Tn8NErrRlM2pYR5vW8bD0DsfKulzln33-lVoWe4GlXq_yhZwTfzk1pc45nHJ9MI/s320/2013-05-01+14.52.23.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGjgQtYUEH7v9CLWHaE1PFTKbFJdzbd6MFVqffSp-wf6EM_rL7cpoC_d59I70cSLI8eG1ZLszRVZF4ZcN-QjpcOB_9YI8vqFzFxnlQr-9XHJndhCjAc_y2qMvLA-fs2YOao-lbBKi2Xs/s640/2013-05-01+15.00.53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGjgQtYUEH7v9CLWHaE1PFTKbFJdzbd6MFVqffSp-wf6EM_rL7cpoC_d59I70cSLI8eG1ZLszRVZF4ZcN-QjpcOB_9YI8vqFzFxnlQr-9XHJndhCjAc_y2qMvLA-fs2YOao-lbBKi2Xs/s320/2013-05-01+15.00.53.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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~ At an evening of <a href="http://www.kennedy-center.org/wno/outreach/simulcast/" target="_blank">Opera in the Outfield</a>, featuring Show Boat, C had a brilliant time playing dress up in the costumes before the show. Here, C contemplates possibilities inspiration for her future wedding gown....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRE3B6d7f056V-c8XC21aNRrDNoK8PZhggpsENmHuhsaITd5nb7SZdKo4JO1rsiV2nik29XY11jTeCgyIPH_eqr07SLuRZEK-EluaBJ0wIRslt-pAOQ8R98BfIPKWjhmfadOPxF_eIql4/s1600/2013-05-18+17.19.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRE3B6d7f056V-c8XC21aNRrDNoK8PZhggpsENmHuhsaITd5nb7SZdKo4JO1rsiV2nik29XY11jTeCgyIPH_eqr07SLuRZEK-EluaBJ0wIRslt-pAOQ8R98BfIPKWjhmfadOPxF_eIql4/s320/2013-05-18+17.19.04.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0z1YnnExeFvSXlrwMqN1gHWfUDWOVxXFFgGWv3pDyyzBdvmzplp52ZuBftpu1dJU1Ahj69ptHAE83A8nJxGbGNTrhAKqgpitYkGspjd2WToniq4p599BkG3KywmbvquVabAdKoUzXXQ/s1600/2013-05-18+17.19.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0z1YnnExeFvSXlrwMqN1gHWfUDWOVxXFFgGWv3pDyyzBdvmzplp52ZuBftpu1dJU1Ahj69ptHAE83A8nJxGbGNTrhAKqgpitYkGspjd2WToniq4p599BkG3KywmbvquVabAdKoUzXXQ/s320/2013-05-18+17.19.23.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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...but clearly favoured a more Elizabethan look:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmHYPd3azNOgdEmOfi1SDxInT4sGYSYyQ-dCbfpfcF4ZQjOrmUbRifapz6uXJyzWhNogoaW-SuuRjDIsE6iKvt-RS3JwHhZEJkwmwYzZtz53ryS-6gzyMmjBXa8GS_OiUg-8ohbV1810/s1600/2013-05-18+17.22.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDmHYPd3azNOgdEmOfi1SDxInT4sGYSYyQ-dCbfpfcF4ZQjOrmUbRifapz6uXJyzWhNogoaW-SuuRjDIsE6iKvt-RS3JwHhZEJkwmwYzZtz53ryS-6gzyMmjBXa8GS_OiUg-8ohbV1810/s320/2013-05-18+17.22.11.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_Wk-S97VO3XdkYi7Gp5ZhSm1EVJeWisNzUvsm-Rf-lA4uKcNpdY-xfLY2unskR3Dcj2LYmBtF6wy5q8R1cCtfZwXZ_2H0NDjNP8WzkHWWs-Ky8n2zWtvC13PZqyNAliSoCTDjMB_gHs/s1600/2013-05-18+17.22.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_Wk-S97VO3XdkYi7Gp5ZhSm1EVJeWisNzUvsm-Rf-lA4uKcNpdY-xfLY2unskR3Dcj2LYmBtF6wy5q8R1cCtfZwXZ_2H0NDjNP8WzkHWWs-Ky8n2zWtvC13PZqyNAliSoCTDjMB_gHs/s320/2013-05-18+17.22.25.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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...and she loved watching the show with her little diplo-friend, who is off to Copenhagen with her parents this summer for <i>their</i> next Foreign Service adventure (her Mom, by the way, has a <a href="http://www.thenewdiplomatswife.com/" target="_blank">fabulous blog</a> - definitely check it out).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvm4dQxcyLg5iXCqtyBPVc9ZJ_wHhnxN82qGyYr5hFKETRcAy6FfrmaOlpCnGQlToOpo59erbWUm6yReGcp_-ysfgWSHQmQUeBC_66JwD1yh3wqu_LD7QJPX49xzDTffDm3yNzJWFJmHc/s1600/2013-05-18+20.26.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvm4dQxcyLg5iXCqtyBPVc9ZJ_wHhnxN82qGyYr5hFKETRcAy6FfrmaOlpCnGQlToOpo59erbWUm6yReGcp_-ysfgWSHQmQUeBC_66JwD1yh3wqu_LD7QJPX49xzDTffDm3yNzJWFJmHc/s320/2013-05-18+20.26.24.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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~ We took a much needed family holiday in Florida, visiting my Grandmother-in-law who lives beside my husband's childhood haunt of Pass-A-Grille Beach. It was relaxing and just what we needed. It was also C's first time on a beach - we could hardly get her out of the water!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwf6Eb96KSxbgc4q371HT3Y-dlCj_OmNiX4Z5qWHhDZHfIiOdLlnw725cpkGLw5jiJX7SehS72Aeyg5BzPW69wxrRRpTsSZeVJvEsvHGCEKWFOs7wwkAcB8liyFoRp3EjWK19pDT99eZE/s1600/2013-05-24+18.19.44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwf6Eb96KSxbgc4q371HT3Y-dlCj_OmNiX4Z5qWHhDZHfIiOdLlnw725cpkGLw5jiJX7SehS72Aeyg5BzPW69wxrRRpTsSZeVJvEsvHGCEKWFOs7wwkAcB8liyFoRp3EjWK19pDT99eZE/s320/2013-05-24+18.19.44.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a very experienced pilot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEewgIeH6Ox86XONG8jkpdC1PrEyOISgjwu_lNxebe9d3gao1cslG04-vzXNXb_XnBlBlJ2t_Mvnr9A0ZbGBYWpkY0jHK7_nV7f_5rEqte8bpi6TIOfv4HtfeBnTD3B5fpf4tJjaY3TE/s612/2013-05-25+12.58.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEewgIeH6Ox86XONG8jkpdC1PrEyOISgjwu_lNxebe9d3gao1cslG04-vzXNXb_XnBlBlJ2t_Mvnr9A0ZbGBYWpkY0jHK7_nV7f_5rEqte8bpi6TIOfv4HtfeBnTD3B5fpf4tJjaY3TE/s320/2013-05-25+12.58.39.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful Gulf.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lAjVbS3pC1dIkA3ptghfrX9ZvhKYT07VvToUvPHccgmZn5Vlwqe71uzMMq-3-lJoSv_9nfpziMCA70cI_GvCHaDnV5SaMrhSq4b8tBFyAu9JiXC-BrEs0Mxh5hze7u4SR_Wh2oRIgWs/s1600/2013-05-26+09.07.29-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_lAjVbS3pC1dIkA3ptghfrX9ZvhKYT07VvToUvPHccgmZn5Vlwqe71uzMMq-3-lJoSv_9nfpziMCA70cI_GvCHaDnV5SaMrhSq4b8tBFyAu9JiXC-BrEs0Mxh5hze7u4SR_Wh2oRIgWs/s320/2013-05-26+09.07.29-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sea Horse Restaurant - a must on every visit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bnb_uwsx7btpX4gQRRR7oIckTKQxGEqVMliYx3BmOB_alLetTVjSk2Uo1Nw2F65y2giIQZdgFGrRvFmw6rjYzB_mEicfwU7Xb49bXiKfl_hDqtPeAM57cGjDrpuaLa1trY3L74f9bvM/s1600/2013-05-26+09.27.57-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bnb_uwsx7btpX4gQRRR7oIckTKQxGEqVMliYx3BmOB_alLetTVjSk2Uo1Nw2F65y2giIQZdgFGrRvFmw6rjYzB_mEicfwU7Xb49bXiKfl_hDqtPeAM57cGjDrpuaLa1trY3L74f9bvM/s320/2013-05-26+09.27.57-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little cutie.</td></tr>
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~ We went to a beautiful wedding in West Point, NY. C danced the afternoon and evening away in a tent in the beautiful gardens of the Superintendant's House.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoYZ6T9bj-mgn51U4rdkjPnHYrRSxEvHRWGaqs7f9TUrJzQzGF1o2uPZFpcrX44WfCRSTVs_4wArPCupwvm38Ez1BtavmuMAURla2x2NoYLLzG_9PNGkZ2961Lgy29PELWxFO5Rtzh06M/s1600/photo+11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoYZ6T9bj-mgn51U4rdkjPnHYrRSxEvHRWGaqs7f9TUrJzQzGF1o2uPZFpcrX44WfCRSTVs_4wArPCupwvm38Ez1BtavmuMAURla2x2NoYLLzG_9PNGkZ2961Lgy29PELWxFO5Rtzh06M/s320/photo+11.JPG" width="316" /></a></div>
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~ C was VERY excited about her new butterfly and fairy dress from her Aunty R.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrshep2YUVXF9ZI9vSBsByVVHBtiV_HDkuszIn33cUAiZsWiHykZHNJ6pyl5Gob56Kn-8-5TGxot_PT5tBswYrYtXtN9q41N-p6v3UKhcPWdTqQflbWOrNnUwlRnfJfME0KGs1ZI8geY/s1600/photo+13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHrshep2YUVXF9ZI9vSBsByVVHBtiV_HDkuszIn33cUAiZsWiHykZHNJ6pyl5Gob56Kn-8-5TGxot_PT5tBswYrYtXtN9q41N-p6v3UKhcPWdTqQflbWOrNnUwlRnfJfME0KGs1ZI8geY/s320/photo+13.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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~ She also paid tribute to the late Esther Williams by re-inventing the swimmer's underwater ballets on dry land.<br />
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~ Saturdays have become Daddy/Daughter donut days - they go get their donuts (and a Starbucks tea for me) while I sleep a little longer. We <i>all</i> love this new tradition. :)<br />
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~ Despite the wacky weather we've been having, we've been able to sneak in a few days poolside. It's a tough life for some...</div>
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~ This past weekend, we visited by best friend since I was 10 years old. <br />
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<span id="goog_611429581"></span><span id="goog_611429582"></span><br />
...She lives with her lovely little family in Connecticut. Her oldest daughter is 6 weeks older than C, and they hit it off like their Mamas did. It made our hearts happy. :)<br />
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~ We went to Boston for the day where we attempted to go to the aquarium (tourist-overload-fail) and met up with my cousin and his family.<br />
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~ And finally, we (and by we I mean C) have spent a LOT of time dancing. To anything and everything. But lately, to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047472/" target="_blank">this movie</a> which, if you know me, you'll know makes me very, very happy. :) </div>
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~ I won't be able to photograph the tiny little thing that has made us most happy these last few months. He or she should be joining us around New Years Day, and we can hardly wait!</div>
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If you're still with me after the squillion photos I just posted, you deserve a pat on the back. And possibly a stronger drink than coffee. :) </div>
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Have a lovely day, everyone!</div>
<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-89655062219248265342013-07-08T06:51:00.001-07:002013-07-08T11:35:29.146-07:00Eight Years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Eight years ago today, this happened:</div>
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It was a wonderful, most happy day filled with family and friends.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQI3TO-8t_8IJazspO7WCuCTMn3-9TMa0SUWX1H__1tgNGnbFhuSjjqNjT0s3uLrKzvNWT1QM0pcdpXKGx02fcaDUwrVg7RfRvZr-ru8uvSQzTWV1PPukOxlgGNHF6uE4dUDl3NxFEQc/s480/pareen12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQI3TO-8t_8IJazspO7WCuCTMn3-9TMa0SUWX1H__1tgNGnbFhuSjjqNjT0s3uLrKzvNWT1QM0pcdpXKGx02fcaDUwrVg7RfRvZr-ru8uvSQzTWV1PPukOxlgGNHF6uE4dUDl3NxFEQc/s400/pareen12.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div>
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We've since written our story on 2 continents, in 2 countries, 3 states, and now we're back where it all began (well, for a few more weeks...)</div>
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The last eight years has been more than I could have ever imagined: more love, more adventure, more joy. Of course there have been ups and downs, but I am so blessed to have a kind, funny, smart, wonderful partner in life who supports me, understands me, believes in me, and who picks me up when I am down. He takes care of me and our little girl and we are both beyond blessed to share our lives with him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_hVOLzmorv-7oE3g9E5jpqz2TwL8pf0GkeUA2PJdbdzeP6jNawr7Zd7WoDjqCz4IZ4bwoZ2qRMVij-sfkwZMLgGoHofHVfwiAZZM3vIyww_4gmW816wbaEHRERKHZKn4MUVzcR4rtrc/s1409/kate+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_hVOLzmorv-7oE3g9E5jpqz2TwL8pf0GkeUA2PJdbdzeP6jNawr7Zd7WoDjqCz4IZ4bwoZ2qRMVij-sfkwZMLgGoHofHVfwiAZZM3vIyww_4gmW816wbaEHRERKHZKn4MUVzcR4rtrc/s400/kate+1.jpg" width="333" /></a></div>
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I love you, P! Here's to 8x8x8 years more!</div>
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xx</div>
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Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-37835614171618665472013-02-11T11:38:00.000-08:002013-02-13T11:31:02.352-08:00A Winter's Walk<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqVaYoQWDSQIv3OyS0JFo8WT58PVsCK0_gFHgftyefmefN6EsCdtNYBWFOxN7QfAqNLTZdQDDUMgXt0PdtXc-hwUBG4HWCO5XRUMtUcEYmfgqUquORx30sMv8PTc2g-JWCdQWNk77c0PQ/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqVaYoQWDSQIv3OyS0JFo8WT58PVsCK0_gFHgftyefmefN6EsCdtNYBWFOxN7QfAqNLTZdQDDUMgXt0PdtXc-hwUBG4HWCO5XRUMtUcEYmfgqUquORx30sMv8PTc2g-JWCdQWNk77c0PQ/s400/photo+1.JPG" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Us (and my sister, tucked in her coat) in Regents Park, late 1983/early 1984</span></td></tr>
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<br />It was late morning in mid-winter. There was a crisp chill in the London air and I was wrapped in warm layers: a cuddly hat and scarf, warm overcoat and patent leather T-bar shoes buckled firmly over my wool tights. She pushed brass handle of the heavy, mahogany door open and we squinted in the bright morning light, one small hand tucked safely inside one big hand. The sun hung lazily above the trees whose stark, finger-like branches were barely a shadow as they reached toward the milky winter sky. With my right hand firmly in her left, we walked down Clifton Gardens, my free hand gripping the plastic bag of stale breadcrumbs we were bringing for the duck's breakfast. She told me about the boats we were going to see, about the ducks we'd later feed and how they say hello. I practiced my "quacks" as best I could, and as I told her of the mummy, daddy, and baby ducks we'd see she listened to me as she always did: with full attention, as though what I had to say was the most important thing she had ever heard. <br />
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When our route met the canal, we veered off Blomfield Road to the little footpath beside the canal. This was my favorite part. The canals of Little Venice seemed a well-kept secret, and three-year-old me liked to believe that she and I were the only two who knew about them. But the best secret of all was that people lived in boats on the canal. They slept in them, cooked in them, ate in them - a concept that seemed so magical. As we strolled along the dark water, I crouched down to peek through the sheers hanging on the tiny windows. I'm sure I expected to see tiny people living in these tiny, floating homes. She told me stories of the people who lived in the boats, real-life fairy tales and I hung on every word, her breath billowing clouds around her head as she spoke: "This boat belongs to a little princess who is hiding away from life in the palace, and in that boat lives a little girl, her favorite doll and her mummy and daddy, because they don't like to live in proper houses". <br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://www.brockport.edu/history/London/pic18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://www.brockport.edu/history/London/pic18.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The Little Venice canal we walked down many a day. <a href="http://www.brockport.edu/history/london2.html" target="_blank">via</a></span></td></tr>
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Once we had examined each and every 'house' along the canal, she said "let's go to the park and feed the ducks". Some days we'd take the big, red, double-decker buses, but on this occasion we found our way to the nearest Tube station. We sat on the bench, waiting for the train, and I looked everywhere for Paddington Bear. As the roaring train approached, she gripped my hand and I tucked my face into her hip as train stopped in front of us with a screeching gush of wind that simultaneously frightened and excited me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKVFggXesoVca7crMzmxkAqU4sXEbtxKF_jMl4UZXsJ-vXW_o6saRjeFDkuqJew2IutQJhyUdK__ZNKkkq2DBz3HcinDM4bXMjiYb6rlCbJD3sCoQsPrQoTWCjHvB7YAkHeyw957Q3cNx/s1600/paddington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKVFggXesoVca7crMzmxkAqU4sXEbtxKF_jMl4UZXsJ-vXW_o6saRjeFDkuqJew2IutQJhyUdK__ZNKkkq2DBz3HcinDM4bXMjiYb6rlCbJD3sCoQsPrQoTWCjHvB7YAkHeyw957Q3cNx/s200/paddington.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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After a thrilling train ride, we rushed along the glossy moss-green hallways, climbed the stairs, and began the short walk to Regents Park. We followed the winding footpaths, the bare trees looming overhead, the wind whipping through our hair. As the pond came into view, I began to skip, excited and anxious to meet my waddling little friends. At the water's edge, I gently lay my bag of breadcrumbs on the ground, careful not to spill a crumb. As I reached in to grab a handful, I authoritatively announced to the ducks that it was breakfast time, just as she had announced to me every morning of the last year. I carefully threw some crumbs in the water and squeaked with delight as the ducks came paddling over, heads diving through the surface of the canal, scooping up their morning feast with their little brown beaks. I always felt it terribly unfair that the 'lady ducks' were brown and, to my young eyes, ugly. They should be green, blue, black and cream, and beautiful like their male counterparts. I think I threw a little more to the lady ducks to apologize for nature's injustice. <br />
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After the ducks had had their fill and our plastic bread bag was empty, we walked over to the swings where I'd fly through the air, throwing my head back and laughing, while she pushed me higher and higher, all the while holding tight to my sleeping baby sister, tucked snugly inside her coat. In the summer months, when I was free of my wool tights and overcoat, I'd run through the soft, green grass as the sound of the ice cream van melodically announced it's arrival. She'd ask the ice cream man for a "special cone", which he never failed to produce: a cone cut off a couple of inches from the bottom with a miniature swirl of vanilla ice cream on top. A special treat at the close of a perfect outing.<br />
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These simple memories are some of my most treasured. She made a loving and protective hand, a winter's walk, an underground adventure, a chat with some ducks, and a special summertime treat last almost 30 years, locked safely in my brain so that whenever I fancy it, I can close my eyes and immediately be transported to experience how it looked, sounded and felt that day in London with her. She isn't here anymore to create new memories with, but I will always have these memories to revisit and relive - comfortable and familiar, like old friends - and the most treasured gift she could have ever given me.<br />
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Happy birthday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1VCv-ifK4Csv-Kz7n_kQolDJ0FHBCR9zyx3Iit1oOq9-wCHZ1f2Qr2kzR035h8bgYAnsM5YVIBdBNDKZjH0kiLyCPhAAuF2SBKx6scOkCFIChnXwj1v0wrqhxlS1APRLsFFnFWiBcuk/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1VCv-ifK4Csv-Kz7n_kQolDJ0FHBCR9zyx3Iit1oOq9-wCHZ1f2Qr2kzR035h8bgYAnsM5YVIBdBNDKZjH0kiLyCPhAAuF2SBKx6scOkCFIChnXwj1v0wrqhxlS1APRLsFFnFWiBcuk/s320/photo+5.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The earliest photo I have with her.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFOKKRB9pLXQdxRdTRDToDUGwWiTMWeyaRRr1ayPGKpyR_a8tqHd-aa-G3q5LI2WES-IpWfKHgVpH7FJF4_5LcO4IMtdimN0vaWjRCwT1Gqsg3hFS5H-_3aRpDvvWmzAZGsdE0Sm9ZtNc/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFOKKRB9pLXQdxRdTRDToDUGwWiTMWeyaRRr1ayPGKpyR_a8tqHd-aa-G3q5LI2WES-IpWfKHgVpH7FJF4_5LcO4IMtdimN0vaWjRCwT1Gqsg3hFS5H-_3aRpDvvWmzAZGsdE0Sm9ZtNc/s320/photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiv6mYbe-7cp5Gzljg3t7dSoJBnslVuHS7zgBMHSEY8W_X7V2IgHc9auryeE6HY7J9d-H4iSB3vl6t1Yb__x0zgu2ON13XdNrD7ET4SvFA9tAVI84nRRHql_JibHNppc1YnLuq86Vwc0/s1600/photo+%252828%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiv6mYbe-7cp5Gzljg3t7dSoJBnslVuHS7zgBMHSEY8W_X7V2IgHc9auryeE6HY7J9d-H4iSB3vl6t1Yb__x0zgu2ON13XdNrD7ET4SvFA9tAVI84nRRHql_JibHNppc1YnLuq86Vwc0/s320/photo+%252828%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_okACBOsGU859r7pN2FG3a1OKv5ZxPXVEZBbVi67LO_kWpcWxudhpl5Byc6N8p9FKU695Y8E52-99M_51FKVi068Lq-4I7DEUV-2Nw-8u1CrXOHTyPmRQ_PjjzTgMH8sR2jQpqF55AD8/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_okACBOsGU859r7pN2FG3a1OKv5ZxPXVEZBbVi67LO_kWpcWxudhpl5Byc6N8p9FKU695Y8E52-99M_51FKVi068Lq-4I7DEUV-2Nw-8u1CrXOHTyPmRQ_PjjzTgMH8sR2jQpqF55AD8/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-85051893000877483352013-01-14T07:48:00.000-08:002013-01-14T07:48:50.050-08:00Mauritius<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mauritiusprestige.com/img/Pereybere%20beach%20Mauritius%202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://www.mauritiusprestige.com/img/Pereybere%20beach%20Mauritius%202.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.mauritiusprestige.com/mauritiusbeaches.html" target="_blank">via</a></span></td></tr>
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It feels a bit like a dream, still far enough away that it's not yet a reality. But, whether I can believe it or not, in August we'll be moving there. The husband is up to his eyeballs in French class, which is a constant reminder to me of how atrocious my French has become. As he reminds me, though, I haven't spoken it in 10 years so I suppose that's allowed, but still. I am thrilled at the prospect live in a French speaking country - to get some French back, or at least to improve it, in any way shape or form.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="http://www.aboutmauritius.co.uk/portlouis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://www.aboutmauritius.co.uk/portlouis.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.worldhistoria.com/favourite-country-that-youve-visited_topic124535.html" target="_blank">via</a></span></td></tr>
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As we are still 7 months away from our departure, we don't know any specifics about where we'll actually be living. We are learning bits and pieces about our soon-to-be-home as we go, though. In case you've never heard of Mauritius or you just don't know anything about it, it is located about 1200 miles off the Eastern coast of Africa in the Indian Ocean. Portugese explorers discovered no indigenous people living there when they came across it in the early 1500's, but they didn't settle. The Dutch, however, colonized it in 1598, but after unfortunately assuring that the Dodo bird (only ever found in Mauritius) was good and extinct, they deserted it and the French then colonized it in the early 1700s. Then the British took control in the early 1800s during the Napoleonic Wars and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mauritius" target="_blank">wikipedia</a> tells me it became an independent state as a commonwealth realm in the late 60s and a Republic within the Commonwealth in 1992. And that's your history lesson for today!<br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.internationaldovesociety.com/MiscPics/BluePigeons/Dodo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="http://www.internationaldovesociety.com/MiscPics/BluePigeons/Dodo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor Dodo. <br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.internationaldovesociety.com/MiscSpecies/Dodo.htm" target="_blank">via</a></span></td></tr>
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French is the most widely spoken language, which I'm thrilled about. We know that the island is small enough to drive across in about 45 minutes, and the traffic can be infuriating because - well - there's only so much room for roads. There more than enough things to do on the island, like snorkeling, catamaran sailing, diving, swimming with dolphins, golfing, horseback riding on the beach, even horse racing at the track. There are plentiful markets, botanical gardens, a theatre, even a couple of museums. The dozens of high-end resorts on the island ensure that a good dinner out is never hard to find.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.liveworldtours.com/mauritius/mauritius94.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://www.liveworldtours.com/mauritius/mauritius94.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.worldhistoria.com/favourite-country-that-youve-visited_topic124535.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">via</span></a></td></tr>
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But, if we find ourselves bored, we can hop over to one of the neighboring islands to see what they have to offer. In fact, the Seychelles are just a quick 2.5 hour flight away and fall under the jurisdiction of the US Embassy, in Mauritius, and we understand that a few trips to the there will be necessary. Here's what we might see while we're there:<br /><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://prestigefrenchriviera.files.wordpress.com/2012/09/anse-diri-mahe-seychelles.jpg?w=1024&h=685" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://prestigefrenchriviera.files.wordpress.com/2012/09/anse-diri-mahe-seychelles.jpg?w=1024&h=685" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://prestigefrenchriviera.com/2012/09/02/paradise-untouched-the-seychelles/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">via</span></a></td></tr>
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Hideous, isn't it?<br />
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We have yet to find out where we will be living, and I'd imagine we won't know that for a while. We have been asked what our preferences are: proximity to the city or to schools, do we want a garden?, do we want a pool pool?(!?!?), do we want a garden, etc. It's a tough decision given that C will likely only be in school for our last year there, and it's always harder to determine where you want to live if you haven't been there yet. I'm a city lover, but if I m going to live on an island I think I'd be just fine with a beachside home... Goodness, I've just realize how absolutely ridiculous this sounds. It's all beautiful and wherever we live will be wonderful, I am sure!<br />
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Well this is about as much as we know at the moment, in case anyone was wondering what the latest is. We will be organizing our flights soon - we're hoping to stop in Ireland on our way to see family and friends that we haven't seen in entirely too long, so if you're one of those people, make sure you're around at the beginning of August!<br />
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Questions about our new home? Go ahead...I'll do my best!<br />
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Right, back to daydreaming about white beaches and unbelievably blue water...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://love.mopays.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/beaches-watch-movies-mauritius-or-stream-in-hd-85682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://love.mopays.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/beaches-watch-movies-mauritius-or-stream-in-hd-85682.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://love.mopays.com/beautiful-mauritius-beach/1262/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">via</span></a></td></tr>
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<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-89918033737175232772013-01-09T06:20:00.003-08:002013-01-09T06:20:45.871-08:00A New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">2013</span></div>
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The year before last, I wrote a<a href="http://ataleofgracek.blogspot.com/2011/01/resolution-ary-road.html" target="_blank"> new years resolutions</a> post. Last year I didn't bother because - well - last year was a bit of a funny year and there wasn't all that much I felt like blogging about, as you may have noticed. As I said in my 2011 resolutions post, I'm not that great at sticking to resolutions but I think it's an exercise well worth undertaking - or at least attempting. This year, I've decided to include some things I've already started to incorporate in my life - some end of 2012 resolutions, you might say, to kick-start things in 2013.<br />
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<b>1. Get Fit</b><br />This topped my list in 2011, and I'm proud to say that I am already on that road! Also in 2011, I posted that I wanted to learn how to run. Don't laugh, runners, for some of us running is a challenge, typically for the un-athletic population [drops head, raises hand]. I'm married to a man who loves to run. A 5K run in the morning? No problem. Full, embarrassing disclosure: I couldn't run for 30 seconds without feeling winded. I felt pathetic. 50 minutes on the arc or elliptical? No problem - but running has always been a no-go. I have begun and quit the Couch-2-5K program twice. This October, though, I began again - I hope for the last time. And now I can run for 30 minutes without stopping. 30 MINUTES! That is huge for me and I feel very proud of myself and can't wait to stretch that time even longer. My resolution is to continue - and to sign up for a 5K event.<br />
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<b>2. Get Back To Homeopathy</b><br />
Homeo-what, says you? About 7 years ago, my sister introduced me to <a href="http://jennifergordonhomeopath.com/?page_id=8" target="_blank">homeopathy</a> (if you live in Ireland, go see <a href="http://jennifergordonhomeopath.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer Gordon</a>. You can thank me later!). Simply stated, it's the practice of <span style="font-family: inherit;">taking naturally derived<span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">remedies made from the highly-diluted extracts from plants, animals, minerals, which are prescribed to stimulate and strengthen the body’s own healing response/immune system by getting to the root of the issue, rather than simply masking/treating the symptoms.</span><span style="line-height: 19px;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">I was a skeptic at first, too. But when I say that doing homeopathy has changed my life, I'm not kidding. I used to get chronic sinusitis for YEARS. I took more antibiotics than I care to remember and I was so tired of taking medication that either didn't work at all or didn't work for long. Since I began homeopathy 7 years ago, I have not had ONE sinus infection. I used to have horrible acid reflux (tmi? sorry). For 6 years I had not a single symptom - I could eat all the spicy food, drink all the coffee, eat all the peppers I wanted, something I couldn'</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">t do for years before homeopathy. There are other things I take it for and trust and believe me when I say it has worked and is amazing. In Ireland and the UK it's widely practiced and accepted, even by medical doctors. It is safe to do if you're pregnant or nursing and you can take it with conventional medicine - it doesn't conflict, and it's safe for babies and children (think ADHD, etc). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 19px;">Since we moved back Stateside just over a year ago, I haven't taken any homeopathic remedies and most of my symptoms have returned<i>. </i>I don't feel like myself anymore, it's not fun<i>. </i> So three weeks ago I called my amazing homeopath and got back in the saddle. What I love about her, aside from her being a very gifted homeopath, is that not </span></span><span style="line-height: 19px;">only is she a genuinely nice person, understanding, and easy to talk to, she is also not afraid to tell you that some things do require conventional medicine (which I also believe), but that homeopathy is a great first step in strengthening your immune system and healing. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">Homeopathy truly has changed my quality of life - I encourage you to look into it (it is available in the US, as well), especially if you find yourself frustrated with conventional medicine not helping or fixing what is wrong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>3. Write More</b><br />I'm not a writer, per se. I didn't study writing or major in English. I certainly wrote my fair share of papers in college and - surprisingly - enjoyed it. Well, most of the time. However I like to write - even if I'm not a serious or sophisticated writer - it fulfills something in me, something I can't quite put my finger on. So this year I will endeavor to do it more.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>4. Blog More</b></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19px;">In 2012, I wrote a whopping 5 posts. That is pretty pitiful. This year, I am aiming to be a more frequent blogger. Perhaps not every day, but I hope once a week, at least. With our big move coming up in August, I hope that this blog will become a way for you to follow our adventures in the Indian Ocean. It also fulfills that longing I have to put some of my thoughts on (digital) paper. So as long as you're willing to humour me and read my posts, I'll write. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>5. Quality Time With My Family</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19px;">That should be a given, I know. I have been lucky enough to have my parents visit us three times since we moved back to the US at the end of 2011. My sister visited last February. However, I have not seen either of my brothers in a year and a half and I miss them - I miss them all. The same goes for my aunts, uncles and cousins. I hate that the passage of time means seeing less of the most important people in my life (at least in my family, that's the case). I'm hoping to see them at least once this year. I'm also hoping that the lure of tropical beaches and crystal clear water will lure them to our new home!</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>6. Be A Better Wife and Mother</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19px;">I feel like I fail, a lot, in both these categories. Working from home part-time with a child at home full-time often leaves me feeling like I fail in the Mum-department more often than I succeed. To discourage C from climbing all over me and my </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">"comput-a-ter" when I'm working, </span><span style="line-height: 19px;">I rely on technology too much to keep her occupied. I can't take her outside for as long or as often as I want to. But I'm working to help provide things for her that she wouldn't otherwise have. It's a tough balance and one that I continually struggle with. And as a wife, I know I there are so many things I can do better at. Listening more - really listening. Trying harder to change things I know cause stress or anxiety. Taking time together, just the two of us, to be truly present in my marriage and not letting outside things weigh me down. Sounds simple, right?</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>7. Take More Photographs</b><br />Two years ago, before we left Ireland, my family and Patrick gave me the wonderful gift of a photography course. I loved it - I've always loved photography but have never really done any outside the realm of point-and-shoot. Then we moved and everything turned upside down for a while. This year I want to take more photographs, and moving to a tropical island will afford me some beautiful new vistas to document, I'm sure. I also want to save my pennies to get a DSLR. :)</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><b>8. Disconnect</b></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19px;">It's hard to do when you work from home and your work is on your computer (never mind that you've just resolved to blog more) but I need to disconnect from the digital world more. I'm constantly connected - on my computer, on my phone, my kindle, and the TV is more alluring now that we have AppleTV (amazing and worth every penny, in case you're wondering), and I'm a movie buff as it is so there you have a lethal combination. But I want to spend less time plugged in and more time enjoying the things I used to enjoy before technology took over: a good book (a proper book, that is), long walks outside - and I'm definitely going to get more crafty and creative with C. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;">That covers most of my resolutions - glancing them over they're a little on the heavy side, but I suppose thats what I need in my life right now. </span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;">What are you resolving to do in 2013?</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-30836898317738377562012-12-31T09:22:00.000-08:002013-01-03T08:15:47.768-08:00Christmases Old and NewIt's hard to believe that after weeks (months?) of anticipation, Christmas has come and gone. It is my favourite holiday, without question. I look forward to it each year with a childlike excitement and this year was certainly no exception. With a three-year-old in the house, the arrival of Santa increased the excitement ten-fold - I'm not sure who was more excited, C or her parents!<br />
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I've been pondering on Christmas as we get older. How it changes - how it has to. I find myself longing to preserve my family's traditions of Christmases gone by, but that isn't always possible. When you share a life with someone else, it's important not only to integrate their traditions but to create new traditions of your own. It can take some time to find that balance and it's something I still struggle with. I am thankful for a patient and understanding partner in life.<br />
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Christmas in America is starkly different to the Irish and English Christmases I grew up with. Not just with the physical traditions, but in how it feels. In Ireland (and the UK), Christmas is almost palpable in the air. When I walk outside on an Irish December day, even the air feels festive - the smell of peat fires and crisp, icy air. The short days force street lamps and buildings to glow with soft light in the early evenings, homes look so inviting with their Christmas trees twinkling in the windows and chimney's billowing smoke from the cozy fires below. Christmas lights strung high give the streets a sparkling glow which makes Christmas shopping out in the cold a pleasure rather than a chore. When your nose and cheeks become crimson with the cold, a dip into a snug little pub for a glass of mulled wine or hot port is just the thing to warm your shivering body from the inside out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzK2qHrc-Zynq-avxVYGzyGjfHVBo-6ggDhN-xB8cqnduFVM605tVZG0ssnNHomLefe55FJ2UtqcGaXx0vkxU4K7IX_hTT9sBbxZBngQhhzBSFOVao3uMoXoLsHQQrWQH0_I3-8sxHbA/s1600/P1010428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzK2qHrc-Zynq-avxVYGzyGjfHVBo-6ggDhN-xB8cqnduFVM605tVZG0ssnNHomLefe55FJ2UtqcGaXx0vkxU4K7IX_hTT9sBbxZBngQhhzBSFOVao3uMoXoLsHQQrWQH0_I3-8sxHbA/s320/P1010428.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grafton Street, Dublin - Christmas 2010</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Then there's the food. Mince pies and Christmas puddings are the Irish answer to Christmas cookies. When Santa visits Ireland he indulges in a mince pie and a glass of sherry, and Christmas morning must begin with a full Irish breakfast to get the day off to a good start. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Full Irish Breakfast from this Christmas morning.</td></tr>
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A big, glorious turkey with stuffing, gravy, roasties, and all the sides is as essential and traditional to the Irish population as a turkey on an American Thanksgiving Day. Christmas crackers are pulled before the feast is begun and paper crowns are donned with laughter. Wine flows and plates empty, leaving their owners full and happy. Tins of Roses and selection boxes are are cracked open and devoured.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWtZOfo09OeYwOVhmJ6kVVeNrIwePQ5LZEYrGH8boXbUaUcpsn3QW5J93dxm6XxPOY7vYIlK4H_e7nAOJcEjmxtj_3UzMbCOxs7CsZR9iPvwEO5GhOiGld29NlRp40vioajZ53Yuj_70/s1600/IMG_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWtZOfo09OeYwOVhmJ6kVVeNrIwePQ5LZEYrGH8boXbUaUcpsn3QW5J93dxm6XxPOY7vYIlK4H_e7nAOJcEjmxtj_3UzMbCOxs7CsZR9iPvwEO5GhOiGld29NlRp40vioajZ53Yuj_70/s320/IMG_0022.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas morning at my parent's house in Galway - 2009.</td></tr>
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The country as a whole seems to embrace Christmas. Almost all businesses close their doors from Dec 24 - January 2, forcing stressed out employees to really take a break and enjoy the season. St. Stephen's Day, or Boxing Day as it is more commonly referred to over there, is like another holiday. My family traditionally eats a cold salad with leftovers - turkey, potato salad, pork pies, sausage rolls, you name it. And it is delicious.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcT_rxOxH1D8V7uPxRPWRYxD14pom7OiEZK1qdGSTxrMFMfAIq5Z_GGnT68RLnYVHzeZHwT7BkcM1wWy0xBUhVrWjjtFO6FQGyL2w_A7v0XJgt9Df9XUPHMsqL1nWAyJWzwD7z9xKS62M/s1600/734538_770051783103_820009383_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcT_rxOxH1D8V7uPxRPWRYxD14pom7OiEZK1qdGSTxrMFMfAIq5Z_GGnT68RLnYVHzeZHwT7BkcM1wWy0xBUhVrWjjtFO6FQGyL2w_A7v0XJgt9Df9XUPHMsqL1nWAyJWzwD7z9xKS62M/s320/734538_770051783103_820009383_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This year's Boxing Day (St. Stephen's Day) Feast!</td></tr>
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I keep trying to figure out why I feel so strongly attached to my family and culture's traditions. Perhaps it's because they never varied for the first 24 years of my life. Perhaps it's because almost everyone has the same traditions over there - they all eat and drinks the same thing, so a Christmas without turkey and all the trimmings to me is like a Thanksgiving without turkey and the trimmings for most of you. That's as good of an analogy as I can come up with.<br />
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This year, as they did last year, my in-laws indulged me by preparing turkey as part of their Christmas dinner, something I really appreciate, especially as I know it's certainly not their first choice for Christmas! We had a very multi-cultural Christmas dinner this year: turkey breast, Moroccan lamb stew, Panama Chicken Rice - but we had a multi-cultural gathering, too, and it was lovely to incorporate so many different culinary traditions.<br />
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Despite clinging to my childhood Christmas customs, there are many American traditions I have embraced - Christmas cookies being one! My mother-in-law and sister-in-law are master bakers, and chocolate peppermint cookies, butter balls, cranberry and white chocolate cookies, among others, are annual staples in their Christmas kitchens. My husband spent many a Christmas Eve eating <a href="http://www.the-town.org/FoodCourt/Cookbook/Soups/Curried%20Cream%20of%20Chicken%20Soup.html" target="_blank">Curried Cream of Chicken Soup</a> from the Silver Palate Cookbook, a tradition he loves and one I'd love to adopt as our own. We've started to watch "The Shop Around The Corner" on Christmas Eve, as we did our first Christmas together, and P is most patient with the 10,000 Christmas movies I love to watch each year.<br />
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<a href="http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/shoparndcorner-9849_6380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/shoparndcorner-9849_6380.jpg" /></a></div>
I re-introduced P to Raymond Briggs' <i>The Snowman</i>, an essential part of my Childhood Christmases, and in turn he introduced me to the hilarity of <i>The Muppets Christmas Carol</i>, <i>Christmas Vacation</i>, and <i>A Christmas Story</i> - all classics I missed out on growing up. <br />
<a href="http://files.list.co.uk/images/s/snowman-illustration-high-res-snowman-enterprises-ltd-1982-2004-lst104009-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://files.list.co.uk/images/s/snowman-illustration-high-res-snowman-enterprises-ltd-1982-2004-lst104009-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Like everything in a marriage, it's give and take - I have to let go of some of my old Christmas traditions and embrace new ones, and letting go is definitely not something that comes easy to me in any aspect of my life. But in slowly letting go and embracing new traditions, I have found that our Christmases are even sweeter and more unique. What I'm learning most, though, is that our little family being together is most important of all. I missed being with my family as they were all together in Ireland, but being with my husband and daughter on Christmas morning and waking up, the three of us, to see C experience Santa's generous spirit was worth more than anything else put together. I feel very blessed.<br />
<br />
As this year draws to a close, I wish you all a healthy, happy and prosperous 2013. I'll leave you with a traditional Irish and UK New Year's tradition - as the clock strikes midnight and we welcome the new year, cross your arms, join hands with your neighbors and sing:<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.4em;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="border: none; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; list-style: none; margin-bottom: 8px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Should old acquaintance be forgot,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and never brought to mind ?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Should old acquaintance be forgot,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and old lang syne ?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="border: none; list-style: none; margin-bottom: 8px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For auld lang syne, my dear,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">for auld lang syne,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">
</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">we'll take a cup of kindness yet,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">
</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 18px;">for auld lang syne.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
Cheers!<br />
<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-58075443128367761662012-11-15T13:00:00.001-08:002012-11-15T14:50:36.842-08:00Flag Day!<div>
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One warm Friday morning last month, I woke up thinking "this time in 12 hours we will know where we're going to live for the next two years". I was very excited but very nervous. Our bid-list was long - over 100 jobs in almost as many locations throughout the world. We were asked to rank each one 'high', 'medium' and 'low'. We spent a lot of time on google maps. We did our research, ranked our priorities, and began the challenging task of deciding where we'd prefer to live.</div>
<span id="goog_2132921472"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Granted, just because we decided where we wanted to live certainly didn't mean that we'd be assigned there. State is good about taking your requests and priorities into consideration, but at the end of the day it's the needs of the FS that dictate where you reside. Our first choice was a cushier European post that actually didn't get assigned to anyone at the end of the day. Also in our top 10 were a couple of South American posts, a couple of other European cities, a frigidly cold Russian locale, and one African Island post that we added for good measure because it ticked almost all of our boxes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizckmXvqcNHPxpsytQka5TdheAtBJiibmJ2pvGCW-_eG6DWWaau3yUkNoqTVvk7P1Wq0r4ajAruLGcPyx1Us-_sdf3WRMa-Qg6SNWzpGNYM9dLvgRka8raq-SUcH8r3TR4QpLXGsqebOA/s1600/Welcome+To+Flag+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizckmXvqcNHPxpsytQka5TdheAtBJiibmJ2pvGCW-_eG6DWWaau3yUkNoqTVvk7P1Wq0r4ajAruLGcPyx1Us-_sdf3WRMa-Qg6SNWzpGNYM9dLvgRka8raq-SUcH8r3TR4QpLXGsqebOA/s320/Welcome+To+Flag+Day.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
I arrived with C and my in-laws to the FSI Visitors Center. The room was already packed so we snatched 3 seats at the back, close to the exit in case my (often) rambunctious 2-year-old decided that Flag Day was definitely not at the top of her list. The minutes seemed to drag by. I glanced around, spotted my husband at the front with his classmates. The lady beside me was clutching her bid-list in one hand, a pen in the other, poised to strike off posts off her list as they were claimed by others. Having devoured almost every FS blog I could find, I knew that the printing of the bid-list was common Flag-day practice, but I also knew that almost everyone abandoned them 10 posts in as it moved too quickly and became to exciting to continue. And with a 2-year-old, I didn't even bother.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suddenly the event was in full swing. A flag flashes on the screen. A city and country is announced, followed by the name of the lucky (or not so lucky) person who will call it home for 2 years. There were over 80 people in P's class, and he was the third from last to be called - at that point I could hardly breathe! C dropped something under her chair, and as I bent down to retrieve it, I distantly heard "Port Louis, Mauritius" and then they said his name. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1TtiLL40RYUSVs-AP17SAKJJ4W92PTmfqS-fBPjgltWqttLOnUloc-4riZGpw6tRR1AOt2UpZ_s6rKIyzL1IbWlqDh632Z6ZwbLKPR9vGw-UUf-L_BNNFR-L1FsiBQk7LiqnJCXbV10/s1600/Flag+Day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1TtiLL40RYUSVs-AP17SAKJJ4W92PTmfqS-fBPjgltWqttLOnUloc-4riZGpw6tRR1AOt2UpZ_s6rKIyzL1IbWlqDh632Z6ZwbLKPR9vGw-UUf-L_BNNFR-L1FsiBQk7LiqnJCXbV10/s320/Flag+Day.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92wcPM1K2hyu_jCzZseoyFtDiQ4jwkXWY3G-TCRMgRA40r3Pv4nb_K3sZkInjK2r0qN4Mq4OK0hA6lzv5kINRXmnfzVdaUUb8sF_CSBy14f1L53-c87JN2kJhHlNlhBHmtIE8BoCGc9Q/s1600/Happy+P.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh92wcPM1K2hyu_jCzZseoyFtDiQ4jwkXWY3G-TCRMgRA40r3Pv4nb_K3sZkInjK2r0qN4Mq4OK0hA6lzv5kINRXmnfzVdaUUb8sF_CSBy14f1L53-c87JN2kJhHlNlhBHmtIE8BoCGc9Q/s320/Happy+P.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I couldn't believe it! P was cheering and walking up to retrieve his flag and shake hands with the Ambassador, all the while searching for me over the sea of faces. Mauritius!<br />
<br /></div>
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<a href="http://edition.cnn.com/WORLD/africa/9809/13/africa.summit/mauritius.map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="http://edition.cnn.com/WORLD/africa/9809/13/africa.summit/mauritius.map.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ezilon.com/maps/images/africa/Mauritius-physical-map.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.ezilon.com/maps/images/africa/Mauritius-physical-map.gif" width="245" /></a></div>
<div>
We still have a lot of things to learn about the country we'll call home next year. P is furiously learning French and we still await our final scheudle and date of departure, though we do know it will be late Summer, 2013. Until then, we keep pinching ourselves while our eyes are glued to images like these.....</div>
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<a href="http://media.travelbag.co.uk/Content/Images/Blog/live/2012/January/7/41_063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="125" src="http://media.travelbag.co.uk/Content/Images/Blog/live/2012/January/7/41_063.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://weddings.greekconcierge.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/sofitel-mauritius-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://weddings.greekconcierge.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/sofitel-mauritius-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.sevenstarsandstripes.com/content/magazine/TheOberoiMauritius/TheOberoiMauritius-POOL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="http://www.sevenstarsandstripes.com/content/magazine/TheOberoiMauritius/TheOberoiMauritius-POOL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.travelbite.co.uk/Microsites2/1380778/Graphics/beachcomber_holidayspg2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://www.travelbite.co.uk/Microsites2/1380778/Graphics/beachcomber_holidayspg2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://i.images.cdn.fotopedia.com/flickr-1937294780-image/Countries_of_the_World/Africa-Countries_of_the_World-Mauritius-Sunset__Sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://i.images.cdn.fotopedia.com/flickr-1937294780-image/Countries_of_the_World/Africa-Countries_of_the_World-Mauritius-Sunset__Sunrise.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://mw2.google.com/mw-panoramio/photos/medium/31453182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://mw2.google.com/mw-panoramio/photos/medium/31453182.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://rwrant.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/MauritiusSunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://rwrant.co.za/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/MauritiusSunset.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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{sigh}</div>
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Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-12679087988277239162012-11-02T14:15:00.003-07:002012-11-02T14:15:46.801-07:00A Brief Recap...My decision to continue with this blog was not only to keep you all updated on our life, but also to chronicle our new 'life', as a reference for others who will follow us down this path in the future (as I did nothing but scour the blogosphere for information on what our future life might be like). So, if you're not particularly interested in this part of our adventure I will beg your patience! Here's a little update on life lately...<br />
<br />
We've been back here in the States for just over a year. We spent a lot of time in limbo and my in-laws were more than patient and generous with us in giving us a home for a huge chunk of time. We had a sojourn in Columbus, Ohio for a few months due to husbands job. We have some dear friends there so our time in the Buckeye state was brief but very enjoyable. Said friends introduced us to <a href="http://www.jenis.com/" target="_blank">Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream</a>. If you are ever in Columbus (or Nashville, apparently they have it there, too), do yourself a favor and experience Jeni's. Apparently they carry a couple of flavors at our local Whole Foods; my waistline weeps at this news.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrvk9N7xFtnFv3MRE8x68aZXAm26F-aT5OkLh2-o2vN0gacsBTwXTRMU4nO9OWI-q6oGy7-HMRNxmcKpHUEJZVWGjIH_pWxsOk_vEtM77mbyKGsBoj9QNXlBtNo2_3zwyaetZOs7twkI/s1600/IMG_0094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrvk9N7xFtnFv3MRE8x68aZXAm26F-aT5OkLh2-o2vN0gacsBTwXTRMU4nO9OWI-q6oGy7-HMRNxmcKpHUEJZVWGjIH_pWxsOk_vEtM77mbyKGsBoj9QNXlBtNo2_3zwyaetZOs7twkI/s320/IMG_0094.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone LOOOVES Jeni's!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One day my husband received an offer for a job that fell into the "dream" category. He was invited to join the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Foreign_Service" target="_blank">US Foreign Service</a>, with training beginning in September. So, we packed up all our belongings (again) and made the move back to Northern Virginia. We now reside in Falls Church (just outside of Washington, DC), in temporary housing provided by the Dept of State for Foreign Service (FS) families who are either beginning training in their A-100 course or for those FS families who are between assignments and in language training. Our new home is lovingly referred to as "the dorms", partially because so many people here know each other (it's a small FS), as well as the fact that everyone has the same furniture, the same plates, glasses, linens. Very uniform, but it does the job.<br />
<br />The wonderful thing is that State ships 700lbs of UAB (unaccompanied baggage) to your temporary apartment so we were able to bring some things that make it feel like home...like the munchkin's toys, some of our own towels and linens, and - most importantly for moi - kitchen items. I have missed my Le Creusets! The rest of our things have been safely put away in storage to await our departure next August.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhPUIISh4dSPnfmqqq0hcdzQ_QBD1mLsE6rorOLx8liwgJOmG0LRtXsVzp4XMYXnj0avrgLDP8uhUzDjn6rmBS27K3ufOhcS_2rQxkXAGuZOZP0MmE_we9SbqQGyjOnKDMfvdqk4BCKo/s1600/IMG_1103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhPUIISh4dSPnfmqqq0hcdzQ_QBD1mLsE6rorOLx8liwgJOmG0LRtXsVzp4XMYXnj0avrgLDP8uhUzDjn6rmBS27K3ufOhcS_2rQxkXAGuZOZP0MmE_we9SbqQGyjOnKDMfvdqk4BCKo/s320/IMG_1103.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Georgetown from The Kennedy Center</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But life here is great - we are a 10 minute drive from the District, a 10 minute walk from the metro, there's a convenience store, dry cleaners, playground, a pool (that, thanks to our very mild autumn so far, we have been able to enjoy), we have the space we need and the company of others who are sharing in the same adventure. We have college friends, army friends and old friends nearby and my in-laws are a short drive away so we're able to enjoy time with people we hold near and dear before we head off next year.<br />
<br />
It's Friday, I've had a crazy week and my brain craves some rest. Next time I'll give you all the exciting details on where we're heading next!<br />
<br />
Hope everyone had a spook-tacular Halloween. Tinkerbell visited us...she was adorable.<br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqRszMS1N4DFMgJ4zgaSp6Z4R2j9g3jqpK27p-mK2rMCo8-zt_cqBEbgBWuRzK8OcLmnQywHOejn-XBhYcW4tLjLDxMBK5gxqQVTNzBaHZqdr-w-rQJRx5GqKZQHlQaF-w8BLWcvStBs/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqRszMS1N4DFMgJ4zgaSp6Z4R2j9g3jqpK27p-mK2rMCo8-zt_cqBEbgBWuRzK8OcLmnQywHOejn-XBhYcW4tLjLDxMBK5gxqQVTNzBaHZqdr-w-rQJRx5GqKZQHlQaF-w8BLWcvStBs/s320/photo+(23).JPG" width="168" /></a></div>
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Bon weekend, tout le monde!<br />
<br />Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-8536290865214639922012-10-31T05:07:00.000-07:002012-10-31T05:07:58.657-07:00Autumn It’s my favourite
time of year, again. The time of
year that bids farewell to the sweet, sticky heat of summer…to those long days
and warm nights; to sun on your skin and chlorine in your hair; to swatting pesky
mosquitos and donning large brimmed hats to prevent my pale Irish skin from
becoming raw, red and blistered.
To popsicles and watermelons, burgers on the grill, iced tea and
lemonade.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="GA">While I always
welcome the warmth of summer after dark Winter days and Spring’s bright
freshness, there is little that exhilirates me more than that first brisk
autumn morning, the air thick with the smell of fallen leaves. To that first Pumpkin Spice anything,
to trees at their most magnificent: donning yellow, orange, and red. To days that darken before dinner and
hearty pots of soup on the stove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRjtOaWWRtnSD2QKz9gkMlGltMmDxvj0Q86D582srHJ6D6rOKowbwonbtPoInZKAIDkPK1Y95a2YX11mD_TWf_DQQgFLyC1gL4qIHwiStkl_18nDir_Z0C1vsdcvyGMoePdLI8KJXmhCE/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRjtOaWWRtnSD2QKz9gkMlGltMmDxvj0Q86D582srHJ6D6rOKowbwonbtPoInZKAIDkPK1Y95a2YX11mD_TWf_DQQgFLyC1gL4qIHwiStkl_18nDir_Z0C1vsdcvyGMoePdLI8KJXmhCE/s320/photo+(20).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">My girl, loving those incredible red leaves.</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="GA">In Ireland, the
autumns were quite different. They
haven’t yet caught on to the pumpkin thing (how I missed pumpkin spice lattes,
those four years), and the trees don’t sport incredible ombre coats like they do
here in the States. But to me,
there is nothing like walking out into an Irish autumn afternoon and smelling
the woody, sweet bonfire scent of smoke billowing from chimneys; the earthy
scent of peat enveloping me like a warm blanket that I can't experience anywhere else in the world. The comforting smell of childhood
autumns gone by and mother nature’s whisper that winter is just around the
corner. And I do miss it very
much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="GA">And now, on All Hallows Eve, I sit here contemplating where this Autumn has
gone. Could it really be almost
November? In the shops, Christmas
is already taking over and although I – truly - love Christmas, I find myself
wishing that we could simply savour the season upon us before barreling toward
the next. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="GA">To that end, I
suppose I should practice what I preach and enjoy each moment as it comes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="GA"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizakwnTwlkw15vdx2cHiDXPMH_jYnVwLV4d0AHd_MLd6M-eJPT9OsY0-hhrgb4xHkRMN5vKAlN2tGd-QDYXNiWcoWKrJIDKfiw5qFJy6V4FwCw5WSjAx1B0hTeSOsgLbDT-LDCfOBSSxQ/s1600/photo+%252821%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizakwnTwlkw15vdx2cHiDXPMH_jYnVwLV4d0AHd_MLd6M-eJPT9OsY0-hhrgb4xHkRMN5vKAlN2tGd-QDYXNiWcoWKrJIDKfiw5qFJy6V4FwCw5WSjAx1B0hTeSOsgLbDT-LDCfOBSSxQ/s320/photo+%252821%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Moo"-at-the-Zoo. Not so sure about that cow....</td></tr>
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<span lang="GA">Our life has taken a drastic change of course in the last few weeks and
in a few months time we will begin an entirely new life in an entirely new
place. You likely already know
what the big change is, but I decided to dust off the old blog so that as the
months progress, I can keep you you in the loop as you follow us on our (next)
new adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="GA">Happy
Halloween! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-85500875945689798202011-12-22T06:43:00.000-08:002011-12-22T07:08:13.849-08:00'Tis The Season!I realise I have a lot of nerve showing up here after 3 months of nothing. You probably forgot that I even exist in this medium. But here I am, timidly showing my blogger face again, asking you to forgive me for such a long absense. :) I'm sitting here on my day off watching my daughter watch the Grinch for the eleventy-billionth time this Christmas season. She LOVES it. And it makes my heart happy to watch her get so excited. Hardly a second goes by before she says "Oh WOW" "Oh Dee-yore" "Oh NO!". She's so adorable I can't stand it!! :)<br />
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She just turned 2 and is such a big girl now - I can hardly believe it! When you're expecting or are a brand new parent, you're constantly being told "enjoy every second...it goes so fast!". You think "yeah RIGHT - I will never sleep again...ever!" But it's true. It goes fast and I'm glad I savoured all the good and the bad moments of her being tiny. Cause now she's over 3 feet tall and is definitely not my little baby any more!</div>
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Anyways...we've had a LOT of changes since I last posted. A lot. But I haven't had enough coffee yet this morning to get into all that so I thought, it being almost Christmas, I'd tell you a few of my favourite things of this season. And then I promise I'll catch you up on what's been going on in the K household in the last few months. Promise!</div>
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What I love about the Christmas Season...</div>
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<ul>
<li>Spending time with family (I'm missing my family so much this Christmas!)</li>
<li>Christmas Trees - REAL ones...can't beat that smell!</li>
<li>Gingerbread anything</li>
<li>My mother-in-law's incredible homemade Christmas cookies</li>
<li>Watching <i>The Grinch</i> and <i>Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer</i> on repeat with C</li>
<li><a href="http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/other-recipes/jamie-s-mulled-wine-1">Mulled Wine </a>(best recipe ever)</li>
<li>My sibling's homemade egg nog (think you guys could FedEx me some?!)</li>
<li>Hanging the stockings</li>
<li>A roast turkey with all the trimmings on Christmas day</li>
<li>The Red Cups from you-know-where (yes...I'm a sucker)</li>
<li>My brother JJ's amazing Christmas breakfast</li>
<li>Christmas music....naturally</li>
<li>Mince pies - I ordered some 'specially</li>
<li>The Marks & Spencer food hall :)</li>
<li>Leaving mince pies and a glass of sherry out for Santa (we Irish don't mess around) ;)</li>
<li><i>White Christmas</i> (the movie)...on repeat</li>
<li>Crying (again) at<i> It's A Wonderful Life</i></li>
<li>Actually, (almost) any Christmas movie</li>
<li>Bundling up with a coat, scarf, hat and gloves for a walk on a crisp winter day</li>
<li>A white Christmas...or at least just dreaming of one</li>
<li>The Nutcracker</li>
<li>A Christmas Carol - the end is just the best!</li>
<li>Reading 'Twas The Night Before Christmas</li>
<li>Snuggling up in front of my parent's fire. Missing that! </li>
</ul>
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I know this is a loooong list but what are your favourite things about Christmas? I'd love to konw!</div>
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I doubt I'll be organised enough to blog again before the 25th, so let me take this time to wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas - I'm hoping that your days are merry and bright (and may all your Christmases be white). </div>
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xoxo<br />
G</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-90691754420056609062011-09-12T07:32:00.000-07:002011-09-12T09:23:04.482-07:0010 Years Ago<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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From the peaceful haze of a departing slumber, a dull clanging outside my window shattered my dream and forced me awake 45 minutes before my alarm was to go off. I lay in bed, willing my eyes open and cursing the construction workers who were busy outside, just a few meters from where I lay all cozy in my bed. The morning sun fought it's way through my blinds, painting golden lines on my beige wall. I didn't have to look outside to know that the sky was perfectly blue, the pure white clouds fluffy and the sun out in all it's glory. Later, my best friend at college told me that when she opened her blinds around the same time that morning, she told her roommate that it was "a perfect day". </div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The low hum of the shower in the bathroom next door told me that my roommate was one step ahead of me on this Tuesday morning. I glanced at my clock: 8:53AM. We both had 10:05AM classes and the race for the shower was hers to win that day. I could lay in bed, I thought, but something forced me to get up despite the extra time I had (a true feat, believe me). I pulled on a CUA sweatshirt and lazily sauntered into the living room of our apartment. Maybe some music would get me moving, I thought, as I reached for the clicker and turned on the tv. I expected to see MTV (usually white noise in our apartment), but instead one of the national news networks filled the frame. As I raised the clicker to change the channel, the news anchor's more-serious-than-usual tone made me pause to see what could have already happened on this early Tuesday morning. I rubbed my eyes and forced myself to focus on what she was saying. Suddenly the screen split and one of the World Trade Center towers filled the screen, a giant plume of smoke billowing from it's side.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">My jaw dropped. I immediately focused on the news anchors words - "it seems a plane has hit the North Tower of the WTC....looks like it was an accident....being investigated further....". "Oh my God", I whispered. Actually, I couldn't do anything but whisper - I had lost my voice earlier that week and literally couldn't speak. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">In vain, I tried to shout through the bathroom door to tell Victoria that a plane had accidentally flown into the tower. She had grown up in New Jersey on the doorstep of "The City" and the school her mother taught at afforded a clear view of the World Trade Center across the river. I </span>eventually<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> gave up my pathetic attempts to shout to Victoria and planted myself back in front of the news coverage.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I glanced at the clock on screen - 9:00AM. I thought that I'd better start getting a move on or I'd miss class. Five more minutes, I thought, and I'll start to get ready. I flicked between MSNBC, ABC and CNN and settled on one channel who was showing a full screen shot of North tower, a column of smoke still pouring from it's side. The anchor was still unsure what caused this terrible accident, but assured viewers that we'd be updated as soon as they knew anything more conclusive.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;">Something entered the corner of the screen. A bird, I thought. But as it got closer I chided myself - it was clearly far too big to be a bird. It seemed to be flying toward the towers. Please let it be the Air Force or something like that, investigating the situation from the air. Closer. Faster. In the next second the unimaginable happened right in front of my eyes, in front of the eyes of millions I'd stunned viewers, all over the country and all over the world. That plane crashed into the side of the South tower and our lives and country were changed forever. One minute we were witnessing a horrific 'accident', the next it seemed that no one felt safe. Oh my God, was all I could say - both a prayer and an expression of total shock. I could hardly believe my eyes. I can't recall the news anchors next words, only the horror in her voice as she, like the rest of us, realised that this great country we were living in had just come under attack. That a moment ago, we witnessed even more innocent people needlessly losing their lives. That in a matter of seconds everything had changed.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://flyawaysimulation.com/media/images1/images/second-plane-crash-wtc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://flyawaysimulation.com/media/images1/images/second-plane-crash-wtc.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thelondoneveningpost.com/africa/revealed-why-the-north-let-go-of-southern-sudan/the-moment-the-second-plane-hit-the-world-trade-centre/">via</a></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't understand this. Who did this? Why did they do it? Those questioned were probably asked millions of times that day and for these 10 years since. <br /><br />Victoria was still in the shower. This time I just went straight in and told her what happened. She rushed to join me on the couch where we sat, glued to the screen. I called my parents and whispered as loud as I could, telling them what happened. There was no need - they were sitting in a cafe in Ireland, an ocean away, having lunch and watching it all unfold on the TV. We said our goodbyes and I returned to watching the coverage. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white;"><br />It was 9:25AM - the quickest shower I've ever taken (at this point going to class was still a possibility). I sat back in front of the TV in time for more horrific news: another plane had been hijacked and this time it hit the Pentagon. Chills covered my entire body. The Pentagon - a 25 minute drive from where I was sitting. I felt my blood run cold. Victoria and I looked at each other - fearful and wondering what the hell we should do. The news anchors were now saying 'who knows how many more are out there' and 'the capitol building could also be a target'. The Capitol building was only 10 minutes away. I felt afraid - I felt really afraid. My family was on the other side of the ocean. No matter how independent I was (and I was), in that moment I just wanted my parents, my family and Sue near. We started receiving frantic phone calls - from my parents, my siblings, my friend in Galway. But then all our phone lines went dead and we felt isolated and scared of what might be coming next.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk25/picturejames2008/stuff/pentagon-fire-width.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk25/picturejames2008/stuff/pentagon-fire-width.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/pentagon+on+fire+/picturejames2008/stuff/pentagon-fire-width.jpg">Via</a></td></tr>
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<div>
The next 45 minutes felt like a day. One by one, more horrendous events unfolded before our eyes: the South Tower collapsed. United flight 93 went down in Shanksville, PA. The North Tower collapsed. Countless lives perished in those towers as they crumbled, and there I was, (retrospectively) safe in my apartment watching it all through my tv screen. I'm certain we all cried that morning - feeling a deep sadness for the loss of lives and fear of what was going to happen next. We braced ourselves for news of an attack on the Capitol Building or the White House. Thankfully that news never came.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I felt completely numb for the rest of the day - we all did. Classes were cancelled and we had mass in the Basilica and a candlelight vigil on campus. Many of my classmates were from New York, New Jersey or Connecticut with close ties to NYC. That same best friend from college couldn't contact her brother, who worked in the building next door to the WTC. One of our classmate's father was late to work that morning. As he walked toward his office in the South tower he watched the first plane hit. Thankfully he turned around and walked away. Another classmate's father was not so lucky - he lost his life in the WTC that fateful morning. It was so tragic. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As the day went on, we learned of countless heroes who risked their lives, and in some cases lost their lives, in a quest to save others. Stories of people like the passengers who courageously fought back against the hijackers on Flight 93, possibly sparing the lives of hundreds of others at whatever major site those terrorists had planned to attack with that plane. Stories of others at Ground Zero who went back into the towers to try to help others escape - like Fr. Mychal Judge, who died as the South tower collapsed as he was administering last rights to those in the lobby of the North Tower. True heroes, those people were. As the day went on, it seemed that every news network created video montages of the day's events using Jeff Buckley's "Alleluia". It was already an old favourite of mine but now it will forever remind me of that day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't think there is anyone who wasn't somehow affected by the events of September 11, 2001. My own life was directly impacted through my husband, who joined and served 4 years in the US Army as a result of the attacks of September 11th. During those years as an army wife, I came to a deeper understanding and respect for those truly courageous men and women who sacrifice so much so that we all might live freely. I knew men who died for that right, and mourned with their families who were left behind - the ultimate sacrifice. <br />
<br />
So on this day, 10 years later, I think back and pray for those souls who died so needlessly that morning. I pray for those families who still walk through every day carrying the sorrow and loss of their loved one who never came home to them that night. I pray for all the emergency service personnel who worked so hard and so selflessly that day - especially those lost their lives. I pray for our all service men and women and their families - past and present - who are willing to sacrifice everything for our freedom. How grateful I am to them for their courage and selflessness.<br />
<br />
I will never, ever forget.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2011/09/11/article-2036096-0DD1F61100000578-224_964x667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="442" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2011/09/11/article-2036096-0DD1F61100000578-224_964x667.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2036096/9-11-ANNIVERSARY-Leaders-tears-America-begins-ceremonies-remember.html">via</a></td></tr>
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Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-27411695921209950452011-08-18T10:19:00.000-07:002011-08-18T10:19:56.089-07:00A Hike, Lots of Rain, and an Air-Lift Rescue (no joke!).<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I can hardly believe our big hike that we have been fundraising like for like crazy for the last 6 weeks is over! (In case we aren't FB friends and you missed it, last weekend, two teams undertook a 22 and 10 mile hike in the Mourne Mountains to support the incredible <a href="http://www.galwayhospice.ie/">Galway Hospice Foundation</a>, in memory of our dear Sue - you can read all about it <a href="http://www.mycharity.ie/event/sue_sheard_mourne_mountain_memorial_walk_2011/">here</a>). It has been a very hectic couple of months since we set the wheels rolling on this, especially since during that time the Husband and I organised and executed a big move of all our things into storage and relocated to my sisters house, went on holidays, and (Sister and I) did a trial run of our walk last weekend. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But Saturday August 13 came whether we were ready or not! We were two groups - one group, consisting of my husband, his father, my brother, and three good friends, attempted the 22 mile hike of the <a href="http://www.walkni.com/Walk.aspx?ID=582">Mourne Wall</a> - a seriously challenging hike in good conditions, never mind the terrible conditions they faced last Saturday. The met and set off at 6AM, prepared for 12+ hours of seriously hiking up peaks and down valleys. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgha39YaeqgUfS3Qm6GbRdbzhJSmGvCbf0MCQeysOHXSRNUrI_e7wPV1AQJAPcPcDj5osCNhHZwAMF0KBnLlLgnLMNi46sgTYgGhVEfVSp9kjjDwDiYllDq6EZuQlyFaIT4UcIbBYg1LYU/s1600/P1020138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgha39YaeqgUfS3Qm6GbRdbzhJSmGvCbf0MCQeysOHXSRNUrI_e7wPV1AQJAPcPcDj5osCNhHZwAMF0KBnLlLgnLMNi46sgTYgGhVEfVSp9kjjDwDiYllDq6EZuQlyFaIT4UcIbBYg1LYU/s640/P1020138.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Here we are all excited and ready to go!<br />
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The remaining 12 of us met at 11AM at the foot of <a href="http://www.walkni.com/Walk.aspx?ID=67">Slieve Binnian</a>, ready for our 10 mile hike to it's summit and back, then past the <a href="http://www.walkni.com/Walk.aspx?ID=64">Blue Lough</a> to overlook the reservoir and back, which, despite it's description, isn't at all an easy family walk - just ask my poor cousin. But we'll get to that later.<br />
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So we were off! When we checked the forecast the night before, it said sun sun sun from 6AM onward. LIES!!! We had rain 90% of the day. It is Ireland in August, you know.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDk3zoaps5VeI0ME1dYC3k1uiS6ET13vTQWkfrC4XRg99pq5YV6Zsuhy9DIDoHcxVhwv1DtS3zoAMH7PjafjzyvRAYxZ4aUpGD2Fub0-s17-wSt-6_KwcFqboOrPAOFRfVG_MIZ5oU9Ac/s1600/P1020140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDk3zoaps5VeI0ME1dYC3k1uiS6ET13vTQWkfrC4XRg99pq5YV6Zsuhy9DIDoHcxVhwv1DtS3zoAMH7PjafjzyvRAYxZ4aUpGD2Fub0-s17-wSt-6_KwcFqboOrPAOFRfVG_MIZ5oU9Ac/s640/P1020140.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Allan, the horse-whisperer....</span></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3TXjw03vV_AModwzlSSRznuuPthZmF-j2Z1U33OxeHw1CdxsYo7JCuydDsIuLEOAcWXMBbxORxTvSL1aEUnb5SxTpmrmYi_pr7NCeEDUFL_MYdLjWMaoRdaUY0jCyS4QvlshShQNRIs/s1600/P1020142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3TXjw03vV_AModwzlSSRznuuPthZmF-j2Z1U33OxeHw1CdxsYo7JCuydDsIuLEOAcWXMBbxORxTvSL1aEUnb5SxTpmrmYi_pr7NCeEDUFL_MYdLjWMaoRdaUY0jCyS4QvlshShQNRIs/s640/P1020142.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> And resident photographer.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOYEXAHQtGkWe01d4xxZDwllaKqtGaD1pbwN5VKQ4ZTug3028YUAqRWoDur7rK7nBF8ZO6N1PrPcFH1qRURyyzdmlK9Jlmy_SNHvq5Y-THj63QdtDRWE-58EwnJ4AaHzKs6eBhnI8Dm74/s1600/P1020143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOYEXAHQtGkWe01d4xxZDwllaKqtGaD1pbwN5VKQ4ZTug3028YUAqRWoDur7rK7nBF8ZO6N1PrPcFH1qRURyyzdmlK9Jlmy_SNHvq5Y-THj63QdtDRWE-58EwnJ4AaHzKs6eBhnI8Dm74/s640/P1020143.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This was early in our hike - thats the wall....obviously. :)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKuSSoGK_RPx97_HkWknETlDYuwwlcc-OQuMBLzhuecCTYBS_gdC5XDocJgtwysygDh9tDeqDlpTP4n9YYJ9drN-1Gu8iYnuuWImmt6EMqzhB6m08jWT17bY-KGaeTht4KW-DT1nDvts/s1600/P1020147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKuSSoGK_RPx97_HkWknETlDYuwwlcc-OQuMBLzhuecCTYBS_gdC5XDocJgtwysygDh9tDeqDlpTP4n9YYJ9drN-1Gu8iYnuuWImmt6EMqzhB6m08jWT17bY-KGaeTht4KW-DT1nDvts/s640/P1020147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Behind those clouds there are about 4 peaks that you unfortunately can't see. Thats where the 22-milers were to end their hike.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3crn2E0j6ytR7V-TF9J0Zp6daJ53PrN_RAx0FVcdIHSbjI8X-Qmp0FcNAw8FHaCxWmxTxRDSgXd_9E7uEjRtkEESQVgOYtOZWd6P4bI8BqqpSWCvr2wywScUb3PRonRNIjpYBDuX6H2A/s1600/P1020148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3crn2E0j6ytR7V-TF9J0Zp6daJ53PrN_RAx0FVcdIHSbjI8X-Qmp0FcNAw8FHaCxWmxTxRDSgXd_9E7uEjRtkEESQVgOYtOZWd6P4bI8BqqpSWCvr2wywScUb3PRonRNIjpYBDuX6H2A/s640/P1020148.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbsy5POeFu4wo-SXrtexpd51jJSs7lmvwpCQBdnvgMO_SymbGwQmjtb-qt7LyPYu5aY-kTztucRzEnjNgsvxaSXm_xX1qe0O3RY6Ramjco0LViA6t4nbwOtjBYo7GVa8CYISkdAr6ZRsc/s1600/P1020149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbsy5POeFu4wo-SXrtexpd51jJSs7lmvwpCQBdnvgMO_SymbGwQmjtb-qt7LyPYu5aY-kTztucRzEnjNgsvxaSXm_xX1qe0O3RY6Ramjco0LViA6t4nbwOtjBYo7GVa8CYISkdAr6ZRsc/s640/P1020149.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDqrAjd87S84mBE_rT5vKifzO26LVW5eQAdpKhD6W7Gy6gWPGlS1l2VS1Xyqh0EMhC2M00Bru35O0BQqMj8qlp6QP063KJJthT2uaXcqBS-29JqyexPIA8YMLN7cweCyTQ9eR2uJb-e4/s1600/P1020151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwDqrAjd87S84mBE_rT5vKifzO26LVW5eQAdpKhD6W7Gy6gWPGlS1l2VS1Xyqh0EMhC2M00Bru35O0BQqMj8qlp6QP063KJJthT2uaXcqBS-29JqyexPIA8YMLN7cweCyTQ9eR2uJb-e4/s640/P1020151.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Almost at the top - it was like walking into a cloud. Very low visibility and really wet.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwfwR3-zpM_ALvSeU1Y5g4BySN_Mh-c94ZbEWjAtS1oxqk2aBj05pVLmOGr9hxmQ7bxAELIbSkRs8AV-6mThw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG03MsNXNeJe3KviyOrKaon7NQnExd_9kwBH0d6MZzetV1b1_-V7sS7TeSa_4CyzAuCcYM1UcgqB7qxGGoKT3rVivgEWTeAfLEPw2azHLsRDPd083oWjuW6SJG-7xxL4OYRvWv8OeebeA/s1600/P1020154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG03MsNXNeJe3KviyOrKaon7NQnExd_9kwBH0d6MZzetV1b1_-V7sS7TeSa_4CyzAuCcYM1UcgqB7qxGGoKT3rVivgEWTeAfLEPw2azHLsRDPd083oWjuW6SJG-7xxL4OYRvWv8OeebeA/s640/P1020154.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Showing off the momentary view we had - and proving that I was, in fact, doing the hike too.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27mXkjFy3CoPZaSD0WKBwYV7iYzZzD9_PqXMtrm6xVSQ1Mh8Ahpqmmb-VXdxM1o3jH1hBMtDYmVRmdv6M-iFySyjNbAtV2pERUYFdGSpZQT7adTvxob73wgH4r0s3bAWscfsoeiq5bQU/s1600/P1020155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27mXkjFy3CoPZaSD0WKBwYV7iYzZzD9_PqXMtrm6xVSQ1Mh8Ahpqmmb-VXdxM1o3jH1hBMtDYmVRmdv6M-iFySyjNbAtV2pERUYFdGSpZQT7adTvxob73wgH4r0s3bAWscfsoeiq5bQU/s640/P1020155.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We made it to the top! It really was like sitting in a cloud. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Had mother nature been cooperating we would have been looking at this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxwQ5eHuaXM__VUwr2vWL8Mj4l5qdZmxY9rvnbRbetOnCXClN8iJ5DJamI6p_7NaK811GK7cP8ubg-T9QKfGmW8N3STJglq3aJgchXfDJJe0q9D3nRqd5SuOw9DWGa92DWIWl-gRi30E/s1600/P1020113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxwQ5eHuaXM__VUwr2vWL8Mj4l5qdZmxY9rvnbRbetOnCXClN8iJ5DJamI6p_7NaK811GK7cP8ubg-T9QKfGmW8N3STJglq3aJgchXfDJJe0q9D3nRqd5SuOw9DWGa92DWIWl-gRi30E/s640/P1020113.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> And this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvG2RMeDsnIlVal0T_SYcCbDS8nIIMUF3uHs4IG-6KwAwpwa7XcAXnmcMoJuEca25XmXiISURQrzv4G2Ga2QEOmcxZx01GI4ekdziB3vkvQtLu6tgy2LLeMWEyhg3RvNS5zT06d8om6I/s1600/P1020114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvG2RMeDsnIlVal0T_SYcCbDS8nIIMUF3uHs4IG-6KwAwpwa7XcAXnmcMoJuEca25XmXiISURQrzv4G2Ga2QEOmcxZx01GI4ekdziB3vkvQtLu6tgy2LLeMWEyhg3RvNS5zT06d8om6I/s640/P1020114.JPG" width="640" /></a></div> And this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4OwsjV_YJlM8iYyXNIIOXz3tN5JsznRamHHaXcydZnNuBwvwoI5qpoe1tyo3uu5WH0fJjmuo7aozu0iHt-i1rLkYeEH3UUWe_ipQDwZeBo1_N_U40iDyR2gdr7EIE_fB75_9D_2i8KE/s1600/P1020115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4OwsjV_YJlM8iYyXNIIOXz3tN5JsznRamHHaXcydZnNuBwvwoI5qpoe1tyo3uu5WH0fJjmuo7aozu0iHt-i1rLkYeEH3UUWe_ipQDwZeBo1_N_U40iDyR2gdr7EIE_fB75_9D_2i8KE/s640/P1020115.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Aaaaaaaaand this:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZypxl_nSmwCjqKmoNEFdUCHm1wYiptggZxDiNiAdgM0u7yBjBLW4PiRljOtQhZjVMEyV6fK30TwsD6OmqTVGP2AOtqlauNQwNcRKer32O1Hv1QJAGQWScGc23L6VYJi0UegxwMjclNHg/s1600/P1020117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZypxl_nSmwCjqKmoNEFdUCHm1wYiptggZxDiNiAdgM0u7yBjBLW4PiRljOtQhZjVMEyV6fK30TwsD6OmqTVGP2AOtqlauNQwNcRKer32O1Hv1QJAGQWScGc23L6VYJi0UegxwMjclNHg/s640/P1020117.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
These were all taken when Sister and I did our practice hike the week before. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>But instead, this was the best view we got - for about 30 seconds as a new set of clouds blew in:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZIjfHGtxNTSg0kYyNTJRvcoh1iSPaF8VLqBCU3gwA4t77VAS8xW6TrZdznGShCtxi1ajochcKKtS2CH-Y56hd-xdA0ehDPHrKyTRdmA-BY40mDoS1qdsnW23hwrzxJvaY5AGFsuVEV4/s1600/P1020161.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOZIjfHGtxNTSg0kYyNTJRvcoh1iSPaF8VLqBCU3gwA4t77VAS8xW6TrZdznGShCtxi1ajochcKKtS2CH-Y56hd-xdA0ehDPHrKyTRdmA-BY40mDoS1qdsnW23hwrzxJvaY5AGFsuVEV4/s640/P1020161.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrNyZLlFyQGXr_SnLMUp6ZK8KaiiK4Y5JcTqWVUweeNA3_jQ8RLUO4S5aVXPzLWy7x15TqPRkmhgFE6acbg2_pvBWSAIjyCBzW4OFKaXyKTHSpd9WcAyQP1CTT3lQo5YV_6Uc6al52W0/s1600/P1020156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFrNyZLlFyQGXr_SnLMUp6ZK8KaiiK4Y5JcTqWVUweeNA3_jQ8RLUO4S5aVXPzLWy7x15TqPRkmhgFE6acbg2_pvBWSAIjyCBzW4OFKaXyKTHSpd9WcAyQP1CTT3lQo5YV_6Uc6al52W0/s640/P1020156.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But we were happy to finally be at the top...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFJgFuaATMsG-3HQulWEfcTAh9a_aAUJQ0BBqZQ9Dn3yqrcivZdW9rT04F3LAfGcSCnxQhbpKDYGgApjsszhV4RB0bLZoR3PHYLeNEVreWhyVar8dzC1K9uyqjUicoBz1So-L7oXPx3Y/s1600/P1020158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFJgFuaATMsG-3HQulWEfcTAh9a_aAUJQ0BBqZQ9Dn3yqrcivZdW9rT04F3LAfGcSCnxQhbpKDYGgApjsszhV4RB0bLZoR3PHYLeNEVreWhyVar8dzC1K9uyqjUicoBz1So-L7oXPx3Y/s640/P1020158.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And able to eat our lunches!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHrGqEJXEcqFSluB7D5YqPnehhEfL3FamIKJgogNU71V4dl0ICmnP7lfF1j0g-NLnlb3cQ0ERo7YiadOvDZrr7800L5CuyFJPO5bkcH3OuHmRzE5klXQfXfBl1u-N1Dp3JNNUpKxAqSsk/s1600/P1020162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHrGqEJXEcqFSluB7D5YqPnehhEfL3FamIKJgogNU71V4dl0ICmnP7lfF1j0g-NLnlb3cQ0ERo7YiadOvDZrr7800L5CuyFJPO5bkcH3OuHmRzE5klXQfXfBl1u-N1Dp3JNNUpKxAqSsk/s640/P1020162.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sisters! :) Photo as we started the treck down. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUv2NJM0oqo8S86pNzlq4LqyLgzxHZP0RBQaO4DKMcS2rOlks_jhOYAJjFqMXd5HWNWebud_PBVTX1sin6D5O8dgocVKs2YhdMHwsOJp777udYn_vbvrgtglcGom7oGpYedq61dUSCbHE/s1600/P1020165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUv2NJM0oqo8S86pNzlq4LqyLgzxHZP0RBQaO4DKMcS2rOlks_jhOYAJjFqMXd5HWNWebud_PBVTX1sin6D5O8dgocVKs2YhdMHwsOJp777udYn_vbvrgtglcGom7oGpYedq61dUSCbHE/s640/P1020165.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A glimpse of a rainbow as we neared the base of the mountain.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsrdlbX9Zz8-Z7D51T46zSgl6FQXTap2i5DVpRq_9VpaIGWQ3CzqVH9NQyDqNFIZ5qA4a1AzwnMvx_lmtUaIl8h6MnsvkYpOomdqh9lHXFY7Fp-dUThLzBkB_0DQ39DgDIWsSZnaZpqUg/s1600/P1020166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsrdlbX9Zz8-Z7D51T46zSgl6FQXTap2i5DVpRq_9VpaIGWQ3CzqVH9NQyDqNFIZ5qA4a1AzwnMvx_lmtUaIl8h6MnsvkYpOomdqh9lHXFY7Fp-dUThLzBkB_0DQ39DgDIWsSZnaZpqUg/s640/P1020166.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIJbbtEmuYEcFoi6M8H6HR2XYd2sMEmheiaqzzumWDCybEtS-tA_QBCRtjKcbpqC2ILMu5pVbsZNIGAiD-FHf5zFWoTxqbtN0C90mZWZzYt6O4hUjArKSBCJ5-h8NdhVN2dMmihHqqKs/s1600/P1020176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbIJbbtEmuYEcFoi6M8H6HR2XYd2sMEmheiaqzzumWDCybEtS-tA_QBCRtjKcbpqC2ILMu5pVbsZNIGAiD-FHf5zFWoTxqbtN0C90mZWZzYt6O4hUjArKSBCJ5-h8NdhVN2dMmihHqqKs/s640/P1020176.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Blue Lough...not looking so blue, thanks to those dark clouds!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPVeWea51Ag7aEikttkYfB3w3gb0BAh5HxejGHpS5TRmiUM1dfTEQEh5W92ARJ1ikDRa37NFO5v9tUl_G_HJA_QEp0QN6OABvsLhhMmjPpkfDBzSmehzTxmTqY43DMmATs8p3ivewm8g/s1600/P1020168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPVeWea51Ag7aEikttkYfB3w3gb0BAh5HxejGHpS5TRmiUM1dfTEQEh5W92ARJ1ikDRa37NFO5v9tUl_G_HJA_QEp0QN6OABvsLhhMmjPpkfDBzSmehzTxmTqY43DMmATs8p3ivewm8g/s640/P1020168.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Two more hikers (with 2 of our original group) come to meet us to do the last 5 miles! </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9InLVS1PoTH3GY69ZcfAzU0Y4yiwyr9aJrAmI8kwKPnm7Ix2s2Cm3P_SP-SpEQwg1XyvwYBYDCmT06q8eS0lutjufXZxo6qoWqCyphpe7qwOWGK5hLZJZEtqTGeaprfBjtIsgyIKEZs/s1600/P1020169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9InLVS1PoTH3GY69ZcfAzU0Y4yiwyr9aJrAmI8kwKPnm7Ix2s2Cm3P_SP-SpEQwg1XyvwYBYDCmT06q8eS0lutjufXZxo6qoWqCyphpe7qwOWGK5hLZJZEtqTGeaprfBjtIsgyIKEZs/s640/P1020169.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">All of us (but one, who is behind the camera!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiQkWtJnRI4VrVBEPOgbBrEbkoKuwYPGOevbVUza5-u9rXAo-A312hdDe8NMaHeOuFkzJSoNSvBO-aUafvIEs48zJYstA4l2xEleZ76b9xX1NvI7q_KcIMtaEWXNJJlTHEnQ5b95QgDc/s1600/P1020171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiQkWtJnRI4VrVBEPOgbBrEbkoKuwYPGOevbVUza5-u9rXAo-A312hdDe8NMaHeOuFkzJSoNSvBO-aUafvIEs48zJYstA4l2xEleZ76b9xX1NvI7q_KcIMtaEWXNJJlTHEnQ5b95QgDc/s640/P1020171.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">At the reservoir! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx629YrT5sDy3Th-Ha1kfe3MfoMla5IaVNRwDj-MDIN3ULxMXE001ZOfA6_A7-SniSL0W6GT0bcuBQ_nx8PXdcMoz_hYoWy4CeN5NQgH1X2_GAV_ScjOmWKQgqY3vDOPIGIsoJf-lAOZ0/s1600/P1020172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx629YrT5sDy3Th-Ha1kfe3MfoMla5IaVNRwDj-MDIN3ULxMXE001ZOfA6_A7-SniSL0W6GT0bcuBQ_nx8PXdcMoz_hYoWy4CeN5NQgH1X2_GAV_ScjOmWKQgqY3vDOPIGIsoJf-lAOZ0/s640/P1020172.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We made it!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrzgS_KEUzP3dNvQDGA2J3itvmIV1ISUOftL1xJgN0CzPjjjCJQe5Smi3ZGe4GWNWyyAGZnxSKXlkyKHTTGGspmVpPnVwHa7fLz0MBtsUFTlcfM0rl3SIVGgj62YzvCeq_utbzGJRDlo/s1600/P1020173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrzgS_KEUzP3dNvQDGA2J3itvmIV1ISUOftL1xJgN0CzPjjjCJQe5Smi3ZGe4GWNWyyAGZnxSKXlkyKHTTGGspmVpPnVwHa7fLz0MBtsUFTlcfM0rl3SIVGgj62YzvCeq_utbzGJRDlo/s640/P1020173.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YAY!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBtel3iFRoPZKQSo4MufKiWuI7rhVSJxQbm6YcO5Wr4YZ9GN2im09VVnoXfwO85EKaEweNpluplfSVtcs7mpUWlNfuisoEJqvXICXdIUklr4KE0HtQashbmy0IEBQaeWo5SDJ97vq6eg/s1600/P1020174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBtel3iFRoPZKQSo4MufKiWuI7rhVSJxQbm6YcO5Wr4YZ9GN2im09VVnoXfwO85EKaEweNpluplfSVtcs7mpUWlNfuisoEJqvXICXdIUklr4KE0HtQashbmy0IEBQaeWo5SDJ97vq6eg/s640/P1020174.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A group shot (between bites of ginger nut biscuits!)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>And not long after this, disaster struck! Just as we came back around the Blue Lough, we saw that my poor cousin had fallen and her ankle was in really bad shape. She was such a good sport, hardly complained at all - if it were me, I would have been in fits of tears!! She was more concerned that she had ruined it for us (which she hadn't). So we waited and waited for help to come and tried to keep her as warm and as dry as possible. <br />
<br />
And then things got really exciting:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegZFOdf4c5UKUyDQ_A5gnnmYsjIwSkByoyz5KuFVMe3hmXvAqD7S5UNanjMSI5grfVFr1O8yNsdCEWmuHr8G4NIGw8z_RHaNGlW3JQVlOJjUFou2NmQCVc85ytq2-tEpI_ppS1dUxnK4/s1600/P1020210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegZFOdf4c5UKUyDQ_A5gnnmYsjIwSkByoyz5KuFVMe3hmXvAqD7S5UNanjMSI5grfVFr1O8yNsdCEWmuHr8G4NIGw8z_RHaNGlW3JQVlOJjUFou2NmQCVc85ytq2-tEpI_ppS1dUxnK4/s640/P1020210.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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</div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyAXeRomxnHWdbrp_52LIvrMkHS-Q97YHh9JEVhgGTs5qJDtxJGUbORPDGZ2l_ZFytwD5x-FJ8xba_8w2emKw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJZr3e-nKV1hRi4PF3NGIvyL8Cb5jOQYRJMTCBUkHriUwQ7fMfrSRIryaSMiugegqYbxFEmuNaCS2aToHSnzA_yU7O-KovJExXaV9EIf_uh1aI76FWIcT-WOHHDQwzEvte6_RwO9THP8/s1600/P1020183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJZr3e-nKV1hRi4PF3NGIvyL8Cb5jOQYRJMTCBUkHriUwQ7fMfrSRIryaSMiugegqYbxFEmuNaCS2aToHSnzA_yU7O-KovJExXaV9EIf_uh1aI76FWIcT-WOHHDQwzEvte6_RwO9THP8/s640/P1020183.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>My cousin might kill me for saying this, but we all got so excited when the helicopter came swooping in to our rescue. Well, my cousin's rescue. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglA4gMwNYDfaAwYv9nQvphAmGcEarcIzDPW3lHmylL71H2NHvVjGg0x_7OkWdhMI921xbONbukaUVxskrELq9Tgqi9XpCkBPtGWIfSWVS5rBIH1a_G1CjBtRQ41Gen-N3rcuBoNH7WzfQ/s1600/P1020184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglA4gMwNYDfaAwYv9nQvphAmGcEarcIzDPW3lHmylL71H2NHvVjGg0x_7OkWdhMI921xbONbukaUVxskrELq9Tgqi9XpCkBPtGWIfSWVS5rBIH1a_G1CjBtRQ41Gen-N3rcuBoNH7WzfQ/s640/P1020184.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>All of us girls kept <strike>dreaming</strike> talking about how if we were in Wales right now it could be Prince William coming to our rescue.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXoMPdQEW1MZD0hWo0s1VZh6YWGyxhp8gquVc5WMUSnx6xgx5QERlQbiivnGWu5lQx3cqz10NnZ7gBpuVtki9WprQbgVTuIc4ZiyIhagxCmgNGKWlosFISXsKV3yoy5h8HogKJ_s3i8jc/s1600/P1020189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXoMPdQEW1MZD0hWo0s1VZh6YWGyxhp8gquVc5WMUSnx6xgx5QERlQbiivnGWu5lQx3cqz10NnZ7gBpuVtki9WprQbgVTuIc4ZiyIhagxCmgNGKWlosFISXsKV3yoy5h8HogKJ_s3i8jc/s640/P1020189.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Some of us might have giggled like school girls when one of the coast guard dudes waved at us as they flew overhead. But I can't comment on that for certain. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQtxxODthftEibVM1lBRYOoZk7emaC0FXZNwcLPS2oI-VikwxD_DjbILMO3Z8i5GsEufeg8rXndONOOZuaxTxGBRTWbk304vjyqbO8r8ldUx396b-lBbDH_g2nQfQfUYE9kwktp_Omdw/s1600/P1020190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifQtxxODthftEibVM1lBRYOoZk7emaC0FXZNwcLPS2oI-VikwxD_DjbILMO3Z8i5GsEufeg8rXndONOOZuaxTxGBRTWbk304vjyqbO8r8ldUx396b-lBbDH_g2nQfQfUYE9kwktp_Omdw/s640/P1020190.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90A58oZiD2VT0_AOLjQpExtS3UFx9CuYDcXsfASQfie2qeu_EQWuO8FJWW9EWEAPcI5PO6xDur7numq_t04k1TaR0BMHAqhiBti3-pXlM73T_K6dwVE7CFydyquXeh-Ot_IS4i7zMiWg/s1600/P1020201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90A58oZiD2VT0_AOLjQpExtS3UFx9CuYDcXsfASQfie2qeu_EQWuO8FJWW9EWEAPcI5PO6xDur7numq_t04k1TaR0BMHAqhiBti3-pXlM73T_K6dwVE7CFydyquXeh-Ot_IS4i7zMiWg/s640/P1020201.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They must have circled about 5 times overhead, which we all found kinda exciting. It was definitely an unexpected end to our day, one we'd have much rather not have happened, of course. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkBTROiQgowOV6pci1rdgOH3rEzY_4O5a746DJeZQB9pjw8ApHw_1pbw0ABdWFYf4s0ZTBV3sye49D7W8Wrlrkkmb-FG5XQhaQ62oAmlOfoblUryyXclVLldp8tJzX3d8WHronD3ii-I/s1600/P1020212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkkBTROiQgowOV6pci1rdgOH3rEzY_4O5a746DJeZQB9pjw8ApHw_1pbw0ABdWFYf4s0ZTBV3sye49D7W8Wrlrkkmb-FG5XQhaQ62oAmlOfoblUryyXclVLldp8tJzX3d8WHronD3ii-I/s640/P1020212.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScLB_UsWk3qKUDmHRzRKH5M6XjsC8ESS5ubeqcCt_WEPy14BEQ8YzpVIXCL1glOqsQCOKFDgwBvhfhjDdetw9lw1Ow6GSv6SgLky85aBKtinymYS6qfMd_PXmqfnIOpTmI9nbnHtAEAc/s1600/P1020214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScLB_UsWk3qKUDmHRzRKH5M6XjsC8ESS5ubeqcCt_WEPy14BEQ8YzpVIXCL1glOqsQCOKFDgwBvhfhjDdetw9lw1Ow6GSv6SgLky85aBKtinymYS6qfMd_PXmqfnIOpTmI9nbnHtAEAc/s640/P1020214.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The South Down Coast Guard were stars - and good sports, too, as we took their photo over.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgig1ud8KMuVU0uwiykJKivR17aePLGi77iJdE2Bl8xANBxrXrWYvMnyA6h7JZfvWMHT4fKBZlstp00Y__tO0WxuMY2t-P28UNTnOda-RrptHFNNJK2IZtpeE-kKpkhGqPQ-p_-EYsf4eA/s1600/P1020215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgig1ud8KMuVU0uwiykJKivR17aePLGi77iJdE2Bl8xANBxrXrWYvMnyA6h7JZfvWMHT4fKBZlstp00Y__tO0WxuMY2t-P28UNTnOda-RrptHFNNJK2IZtpeE-kKpkhGqPQ-p_-EYsf4eA/s640/P1020215.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and over.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbS18cGjgMhEFgdaIDAOoGibrLpa-XaaABP4uqnSwkwlmI7j9V5PNxuA_-zo_auYEsLmXlhUEuTEVeV06zvJABSnsaJj5EDwQlpvZds0JXJkm71JLhc0TRhddxZ-gp6P3faxgqy1j3e4/s1600/P1020216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbS18cGjgMhEFgdaIDAOoGibrLpa-XaaABP4uqnSwkwlmI7j9V5PNxuA_-zo_auYEsLmXlhUEuTEVeV06zvJABSnsaJj5EDwQlpvZds0JXJkm71JLhc0TRhddxZ-gp6P3faxgqy1j3e4/s640/P1020216.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">and over....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7kwkdWCkCb1mol4syoeykmp0Cf162QVy5qcHd0wTpDY6I4AzezkXHDkL3i694bEKJI9yr6CirzTJqIZym-qzkCKjqpJrcScLXcz5QvsdUaTQ1DTMofgRzaHNOmKbzVTIHO2G9SiLQILs/s1600/P1020217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7kwkdWCkCb1mol4syoeykmp0Cf162QVy5qcHd0wTpDY6I4AzezkXHDkL3i694bEKJI9yr6CirzTJqIZym-qzkCKjqpJrcScLXcz5QvsdUaTQ1DTMofgRzaHNOmKbzVTIHO2G9SiLQILs/s640/P1020217.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIcOH9kzBcDfiVLi0oSFtcQCkaX-j54yi8UNmPuma32cSA6hP_bRtB59XFb92B6_bowRL8Z7-ZSjhtIhxFG9CYiXnMN39MzpzkrlQv6IEfKE9sC8z-er1MqsVk0D4sV0xQfribf8OXzs/s1600/P1020220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIcOH9kzBcDfiVLi0oSFtcQCkaX-j54yi8UNmPuma32cSA6hP_bRtB59XFb92B6_bowRL8Z7-ZSjhtIhxFG9CYiXnMN39MzpzkrlQv6IEfKE9sC8z-er1MqsVk0D4sV0xQfribf8OXzs/s640/P1020220.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyEeDCV7jccFUcgg0AeJxxLTxc_TUXc_Ksx7OGN5R_rgRaCU6b6lSKkOzDQa987sJODr11IhFc3YZtIljpmT0JTnZ33bNWYLEs-wFMlawCUtgjI5f-s3hEWP29Pbwd6Zi3N2qhyphenhyphenUrlqs/s1600/P1020223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyEeDCV7jccFUcgg0AeJxxLTxc_TUXc_Ksx7OGN5R_rgRaCU6b6lSKkOzDQa987sJODr11IhFc3YZtIljpmT0JTnZ33bNWYLEs-wFMlawCUtgjI5f-s3hEWP29Pbwd6Zi3N2qhyphenhyphenUrlqs/s640/P1020223.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Given the unexpected events of the afternoon, we didn't get back in our cars until 8:00PM. By that time we were all cold, wet and starving! We headed to Diamonds Restaurant in nearby <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warrenpoint">Warrenpoint</a> where we had a much deserved celebratory dinner. Reunited with our other team of hikers (those crazy 22-milers), we exchanged photos and stories of our crazy day. Here are some photos from our other group of hikers as they completed 9 peaks before the terrible weather made it too dangerous for them to continue, forcing them to head home a little earlier than expected:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKyRh0t6LdCSBOxwKV9JC5KAj9PSjbpfWSN6xNc4Z377vwIdp5tQTHkjIlCBdilekUQI-8yMc2Cz5Xm7RU68cx2ZrhTt7e8bRc7ynVuAHcCeFSK5JsWSmlNxxdqyP8GzApzvX-L_YL-s/s1600/IMG_1373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKyRh0t6LdCSBOxwKV9JC5KAj9PSjbpfWSN6xNc4Z377vwIdp5tQTHkjIlCBdilekUQI-8yMc2Cz5Xm7RU68cx2ZrhTt7e8bRc7ynVuAHcCeFSK5JsWSmlNxxdqyP8GzApzvX-L_YL-s/s640/IMG_1373.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was a brilliant day. Many thanks to all of you who <a href="http://www.mycharity.ie/event/sue_sheard_mourne_mountain_memorial_walk_2011/">donated in Sue's memory to support the amazing Galway Hospice Foundation</a>. If you didn't get a chance to donate but would still like to, it's not too late! Any donation, no matter what the size, would be greatly appreciated.</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-23299955053739622422011-08-12T04:52:00.000-07:002011-08-12T04:52:14.406-07:00DUB -> LHR: LONDON, Part 2Embarrassingly, it has been 2 months since we were in London and I have yet to post about the rest of our weekend away. So here it is - better late than never, right?<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>In my <a href="http://ataleofgracek.blogspot.com/2011/06/dub-lhr-part-1-highgate-cemetery.html">first post</a> about our weekend in London, I told you about our amazing tour of <span id="goog_1889249515"></span><a href="http://www.highgate-cemetery.org/">Highgate Cemetery</a> - in my book, a must-visit if you appreciate the beauty and history of old (yet still functional) cemeteries. And now I'll tell you what we got up to when we left Highgate. [Hint: it involved lots of delicious food, lots of walking, and - of course - jugs of Pimm's. :) ]</div><div><br />
</div><div>Before we took a leisurely stroll over to Hempstead Heath, our first stop was the beautiful little village of Highgate....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://backintoshape.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/pond-square-300x225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://backintoshape.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/pond-square-300x225.jpg" /></a></div><div>...where we picked up a totally delicious salted beef and mustard sandwiches, a bottle of wine and some fabulous pastries. I would share these delectable delights with you, but I *think* my brother has the only photos of that feast and even though I've asked him eleventy-squillion times, he has yet to send them to me. So you're stuck with my limited selection of photos. Thanks JJ. :P </div><div><br />
</div><div>I do, however, have a photo of the view of London from the top of Hampstead Heath - ain't it purty?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYdQ-0f0lag5WYAij1ljoV0BYDaF7HK0XcTC8yqcZFub4Sgwjot7tE-qNcAjcsZ8pi_K4Gm98K7DS9B4n4yf07gGbdWE6sazcQVQiXaZ9e4xOm-RrWbeZ_gJyqU2It_quL5ak4WfCDEg/s1600/P1010900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBYdQ-0f0lag5WYAij1ljoV0BYDaF7HK0XcTC8yqcZFub4Sgwjot7tE-qNcAjcsZ8pi_K4Gm98K7DS9B4n4yf07gGbdWE6sazcQVQiXaZ9e4xOm-RrWbeZ_gJyqU2It_quL5ak4WfCDEg/s640/P1010900.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxMM9YgKGe4fnpotUxRjhPOh3jMtvqQGR0otRM0I3loEI_upie229k5KIe7s3Q1yyazY4y4hWFpO7Xh1VQCyTp1_oRjR8-ZTNKgYiea72BTrC704i3RueLqsI7mh4eWtyTutRKvyslw4/s1600/P1010902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxMM9YgKGe4fnpotUxRjhPOh3jMtvqQGR0otRM0I3loEI_upie229k5KIe7s3Q1yyazY4y4hWFpO7Xh1VQCyTp1_oRjR8-ZTNKgYiea72BTrC704i3RueLqsI7mh4eWtyTutRKvyslw4/s640/P1010902.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mvzWGnfgimuVvdIlYMb9kXBJ_TUCDFRCLMq7_YMCGMizQelpEE8oBtckpcNY486ZlA0jfBr7aWiBUfkG1H2vlrzOea2CLz3rZwlOv6lssh9KLowi3nGTpTlzRxMs8OqcBK1sSRIgiV8/s1600/P1010904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5mvzWGnfgimuVvdIlYMb9kXBJ_TUCDFRCLMq7_YMCGMizQelpEE8oBtckpcNY486ZlA0jfBr7aWiBUfkG1H2vlrzOea2CLz3rZwlOv6lssh9KLowi3nGTpTlzRxMs8OqcBK1sSRIgiV8/s640/P1010904.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">With our lovely hosts - JJ&K</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After our lovely picnic in Hampstead Heath, we walked a lot and worked up quite a thirst <giant wink>. So we strolled through Hampstead village (and kept our eyes pealed - in vain - for locals Gywnnie Paltrow and Dame Judy). We stopped at a charming little pub called <a href="http://www.thewellshampstead.co.uk/">The Wells Tavern</a> for a jug of Pimm's.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrH9E5tFu18U8DdTtR1uqwPRZ0nYNP7oju3YpwVwhKxqux_y75h0Ht4-1MVUAYcAwuXSRjVJ9VFPUvltlPKpDxMeIw7SPkNxwgeQD5Evkhri-Y9J3SYFsCA5wHHurGqTKKR0UCnZsm0SU/s1600/P1010912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrH9E5tFu18U8DdTtR1uqwPRZ0nYNP7oju3YpwVwhKxqux_y75h0Ht4-1MVUAYcAwuXSRjVJ9VFPUvltlPKpDxMeIw7SPkNxwgeQD5Evkhri-Y9J3SYFsCA5wHHurGqTKKR0UCnZsm0SU/s640/P1010912.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBpzpp_2xtMHlNz6vCiCWU_Bd9uO9YF5TZkrixwPb8zbU_Qj4pG6caxngumQ0MznKcgdDx7gBLTadfu3ZOWcTCGZDnx5dTXozDtRLlISK1FWVAfZAd9JLmq-CBGK8v9wbDq1ZSblz_iU/s1600/P1010909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBpzpp_2xtMHlNz6vCiCWU_Bd9uO9YF5TZkrixwPb8zbU_Qj4pG6caxngumQ0MznKcgdDx7gBLTadfu3ZOWcTCGZDnx5dTXozDtRLlISK1FWVAfZAd9JLmq-CBGK8v9wbDq1ZSblz_iU/s640/P1010909.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
We sat outside in the sunshine, which was really lovely. I ventured inside to visit the ladies room but took no photos of the interior EXCEPT the bathroom. My heart skipped a beat at the glossy black subway tile with white grouting...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4woTF5yebu21ee8JoZB5-hEweRvCQPGGGJo8aLNjTcnmcsoybLWttjbE217ZM9meOgqvd_jCZB1LxtTaW6K5I5KXyeVJLREUENv_pcpRy0PHJtlXY86TeKdGs44MISBw809nDvyqVnQU/s1600/P1010907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4woTF5yebu21ee8JoZB5-hEweRvCQPGGGJo8aLNjTcnmcsoybLWttjbE217ZM9meOgqvd_jCZB1LxtTaW6K5I5KXyeVJLREUENv_pcpRy0PHJtlXY86TeKdGs44MISBw809nDvyqVnQU/s640/P1010907.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>I'm a nerd. I know. We strolled around Hempstead village, where I spotted this beautiful door (excuse the fact that it's cut off, my camera screen is broked).....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0g0kDMVgm4lj5gkiPVdiK1UFAL4Vku3Gm49bG6vnfBAtkZO2l-4DxchHutp82TwsnKHuqWzuuPcJ7S8AV87YE6n-tzF8zJgqTf05kP4Dw4Q8IR-FiE6hWWFj9CgXy8_EYgT54lZ9hf4/s1600/P1010913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0g0kDMVgm4lj5gkiPVdiK1UFAL4Vku3Gm49bG6vnfBAtkZO2l-4DxchHutp82TwsnKHuqWzuuPcJ7S8AV87YE6n-tzF8zJgqTf05kP4Dw4Q8IR-FiE6hWWFj9CgXy8_EYgT54lZ9hf4/s640/P1010913.jpg" width="360" /></a></div> ...and could resist browsing this amazing <a href="http://www.hampsteadbutcher.com/hampstead/butcher/index.asp">gourmet butcher/food shop</a>. We wanted to buy everything, but somehow restrained ourselves.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjppVSyrnwJepnzTH_xV-jH4IIpFem_hUvpWI_AkYN8BrAjWvhrWG63D4OtoDTgBUYKGKx50jO710ZyXDeCoIKs0eVB6hdmaQnh1X8dLmxRqA-cnkQZviaN2Jh4mkZXt-SyF203bTwPAHY/s1600/P1010914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjppVSyrnwJepnzTH_xV-jH4IIpFem_hUvpWI_AkYN8BrAjWvhrWG63D4OtoDTgBUYKGKx50jO710ZyXDeCoIKs0eVB6hdmaQnh1X8dLmxRqA-cnkQZviaN2Jh4mkZXt-SyF203bTwPAHY/s640/P1010914.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>At about that time, my feet felt like they were crying tears of dispair, pain and anguish in my beloved Converses. This particular pair of Converses and I had trod many an exciting path together - through Paris, Southern France, Dublin, Galway, Washington D.C., New York, West Point, and everywhere in between, it seems. However, somewhere in Hempstead Village they said I QUIT. I ran (as fast as my aching feet could carry me) into the nearest Gap and bought myself this precise pair of <a href="http://www.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=56991&vid=1&pid=776557&scid=776557202">City Flats</a>, which were adorable on and very comfy but survived only about 36 hours of walking before they decided to get holes and fail me. They're not the most sturdy shoes, but for a tenner I wasn't going to argue. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kSrUJTcY-e3a76OCbm7mm0Slcm6JA9D6s-mnAD3yYAzAUsN8c8pbfl2AaGx_3qkXTrM1mlTkwW_RKRDC6USMAnvPh-wDZv_lpxerZlg6MGQgqvwy0e4bC_4Ve7hRg2apVkN3sa-Pqqo/s1600/P1010915.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kSrUJTcY-e3a76OCbm7mm0Slcm6JA9D6s-mnAD3yYAzAUsN8c8pbfl2AaGx_3qkXTrM1mlTkwW_RKRDC6USMAnvPh-wDZv_lpxerZlg6MGQgqvwy0e4bC_4Ve7hRg2apVkN3sa-Pqqo/s640/P1010915.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
So I snapped a quick pic of my Converses so I could remember what size I was (for online ordering, natch), chucked them in the bin and skipped happily to our next point of refreshment: <a href="http://www.thesouthamptonarms.co.uk/">The Southampton Arms</a>: <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFIxmQB3d-00qlMefhZA5ipI8S9p1aq-6mgQqXZYM_vdwFpy56Y0jHiSEXbqs2ZbTSrgnSzCHXfGmmx1DHpotRYpL7p9hal2OEzGhok-VUUSJ1MkZqZDT0DF43IRDB7KiBPBEZGXOxB0/s1600/P1010917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFIxmQB3d-00qlMefhZA5ipI8S9p1aq-6mgQqXZYM_vdwFpy56Y0jHiSEXbqs2ZbTSrgnSzCHXfGmmx1DHpotRYpL7p9hal2OEzGhok-VUUSJ1MkZqZDT0DF43IRDB7KiBPBEZGXOxB0/s640/P1010917.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSppRRUUn0KR0zBwNzMj-OaoUudg3bQ_b3ym6XIbf4Hqz-VA182RmNgSpVCPdzz4oq9BKupyHPUS0pXZ8BRxoX-5hUCd9zMUhp9NS1fUoJS9gyANVlHi1_YvCmQOnBpAQhOzeNajgTMnA/s1600/P1010920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSppRRUUn0KR0zBwNzMj-OaoUudg3bQ_b3ym6XIbf4Hqz-VA182RmNgSpVCPdzz4oq9BKupyHPUS0pXZ8BRxoX-5hUCd9zMUhp9NS1fUoJS9gyANVlHi1_YvCmQOnBpAQhOzeNajgTMnA/s640/P1010920.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">All they serve are cask ales, which the men in our group loved, of course. So we all tried what they had on tap and helped ourselves to pork pies and sausage rolls - for sustenance, you understand. YUM!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm811Xxm6W2-_EwlvXyMFqT0KGgH0kA2zBvCVNmvqzOBPPCHHR_V0cdYcMVd6HNp0Y_EoeqhZAsAzcscjxlt5MKw9CzqAB0C5FY55HbW3KLZHDuPGPgx8bIVEAqezXYwPg_m_ZzCLSWBI/s1600/P1010921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm811Xxm6W2-_EwlvXyMFqT0KGgH0kA2zBvCVNmvqzOBPPCHHR_V0cdYcMVd6HNp0Y_EoeqhZAsAzcscjxlt5MKw9CzqAB0C5FY55HbW3KLZHDuPGPgx8bIVEAqezXYwPg_m_ZzCLSWBI/s640/P1010921.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl1y1uiyB2sfIVf_Yjz29Q2jakJkLM_4Kgq60T8_XNMcHs7bQrRZ1-N6DVd6ucYWTJAYLflt6n5PsJ7azKoNLvtAblIGR9o-TU6LZXXhMaKW2sC_HQcneWYyIAv2eu5GD6dXTLTd9jIo/s1600/P1010922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwl1y1uiyB2sfIVf_Yjz29Q2jakJkLM_4Kgq60T8_XNMcHs7bQrRZ1-N6DVd6ucYWTJAYLflt6n5PsJ7azKoNLvtAblIGR9o-TU6LZXXhMaKW2sC_HQcneWYyIAv2eu5GD6dXTLTd9jIo/s640/P1010922.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I wish I had a full shot of the men at the table behind us in that photo - one of them had on a banana yellow suit, and his friends made no attempt to hide what they really thought of it. I told P I'm getting him one for Christmas. He was thrilled.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">After a quick time check, we realised that we'd better get a wiggle on if we were going to make our next event of the day (keep in mind this is all one day - we did the Highgate tour that morning). So we legged (and tube-ed) it to the Tower where we began our <a href="http://www.jacktheripperwalk.com/index2.html">JACK THE RIPPER walking tour</a>! Here's K and I as we waited for it to begin. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevlUD4A4P64gNNSCN3BB1FG_ca5Vo41-ZHEteBf-LmSw3xMlX4MabGbbXHxlIhy9VtAM0NlJ-v1ppVa9-dTmvk3Ab0lGYgbCzUgfZ4e9vLoD9GsdZK6hlLDuwVSUpkvjMiCb92WgjGD8/s1600/P1010927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevlUD4A4P64gNNSCN3BB1FG_ca5Vo41-ZHEteBf-LmSw3xMlX4MabGbbXHxlIhy9VtAM0NlJ-v1ppVa9-dTmvk3Ab0lGYgbCzUgfZ4e9vLoD9GsdZK6hlLDuwVSUpkvjMiCb92WgjGD8/s640/P1010927.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
It was really interesting and we really enjoyed it! It also afforded us a nice view of the Gherkin as we walked from spot to grisly spot:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat2ANYx99CeADdxrHXL6ucaTAoiZ7yaEiQka4Q5j_4XEWVLFGdM1eAs790u0Xnc5ccP32kktUWk83mjO_uhcOH8yku6TsnoX7RxqZ5n2RR0Fxn7W0weMYWkmtCNi8LufDEMTTBEodCIg/s1600/P1010928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat2ANYx99CeADdxrHXL6ucaTAoiZ7yaEiQka4Q5j_4XEWVLFGdM1eAs790u0Xnc5ccP32kktUWk83mjO_uhcOH8yku6TsnoX7RxqZ5n2RR0Fxn7W0weMYWkmtCNi8LufDEMTTBEodCIg/s640/P1010928.jpg" width="360" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We were starving when the tour finished at around 9:00PM. JJ&K took us to the uber-popular Indian restaurant du jour, <a href="http://www.tayyabs.co.uk/">Tyyabs</a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqnIln_y8wlV-54aYRgFkiOHZeRe4o2OXyt5UFAvV_Ske7dvs97i0rwTVplPC3ht5Hg5RLUBpl8GQyl9X0-Z9zNpQOPJl81qYd_UuXRDpY0XSe3RLDC1hEZFDy_88-xdZ5l7gIySL-D4/s1600/P1010930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAqnIln_y8wlV-54aYRgFkiOHZeRe4o2OXyt5UFAvV_Ske7dvs97i0rwTVplPC3ht5Hg5RLUBpl8GQyl9X0-Z9zNpQOPJl81qYd_UuXRDpY0XSe3RLDC1hEZFDy_88-xdZ5l7gIySL-D4/s640/P1010930.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> When we arrived, we found a serpentine queue of people wrapped through the restaurant, around tables and chairs and diners who were enjoying what they were eating so much they didn't seem to notice or care. By that point, we were salivating and seriously debated whether anyone would notice if we nicked their naan off the table. :) We waited for an hour (and sipped wine as we did - it's BYOB), but it was worth it. The food was amazing. The service was not so amazing, but we forgave them - just about. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">JJ has all the good photos of our dinner, this was the only one I captured. It's blurry but you get the idea...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx1xai7PCilPkLguWqk_Dj2YaJ-dJivq_-76OUUGxiV4agGQPwYFUtnW4IRM-VIY_Eh-z_Ra_l2I0NuOGIqYsB5XWS1IxZOQnChl88BvpkCZjVOwUA3I5u39w3ssbNhuUCAE9K64UKsg/s1600/P1010931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdx1xai7PCilPkLguWqk_Dj2YaJ-dJivq_-76OUUGxiV4agGQPwYFUtnW4IRM-VIY_Eh-z_Ra_l2I0NuOGIqYsB5XWS1IxZOQnChl88BvpkCZjVOwUA3I5u39w3ssbNhuUCAE9K64UKsg/s640/P1010931.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>We flopped into bed, exhausted that night after a brilliant day of walking, sightseeing, eating and drinking. :) </div><div><br />
</div><div>The next morning, unfortunately, was to be our last in London. We had brunch at the delicious <a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/">High Road Brasserie</a> in Chiswick (you can even stay in their adorable rooms at their <a href="http://house.highroadhouse.co.uk/">High Road House</a>), where I had eggs benedict and a bloody mary. Perfection. I loved their decor - apple green benches with globe pendants over the bar - the marble counters with dark wood, with mirrored bar - it was very vintage and definitely fabulous. </div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/052011/4dc421677e741b7827000011/img_lg/CT_069154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/052011/4dc421677e741b7827000011/img_lg/CT_069154.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They had a fantastic bar:</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/042011/4db93b887e741b0398000001/img_lg/7_8_HRH_Brasserie_Wines_lores.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="398" src="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/042011/4db93b887e741b0398000001/img_lg/7_8_HRH_Brasserie_Wines_lores.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>And look how cool their floor is:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/042011/4db96e7a7e741b0cb4000002/img_lg/7_2_HRH_Brasserie_Breakfast-lores.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="460" src="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/system/files/042011/4db96e7a7e741b0cb4000002/img_lg/7_2_HRH_Brasserie_Breakfast-lores.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://brasserie.highroadhouse.co.uk/">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>We unwillingly said our goodbyes to our gracious hosts and boarded the train for Heathrow, where Munchers was waiting for us, fast asleep in her crib, in Dublin.</div><div><br />
</div><div>It was a fantastic weekend - thanks so much, JJ & K!</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-11831180863837757062011-08-11T04:49:00.000-07:002012-10-30T21:16:13.688-07:00Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Hi friends! Remember me? No? Well, I can't blame you, it's been a long time.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Ok, so this is an old photo. I think I've lost my ability to take a decent photo (something about turning 30 perhaps?), but the expression on my face here sums up I feel like all the time these days: crazy and exasperated! :)</span></td></tr>
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We have a had a seriously busy couple of months over here and I've been mum on the main reason for the craziness, but not anymore. Actually most of you readers will already know as we're FB friends too, right? <br />
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Husband and I have made a big decision. It was a very hard decision and one we have deliberated over for months. For a number of reasons (that I am not going to get into), we have decided to leave Ireland and return to the United States. In September - which, I have to keep reminding myself, is next month. <br />
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See - I told you it was a big decision. I am feeling very bittersweet about this move. On the one hand I am looking forward to starting a new chapter (we've done that thrice already in our six years of marriage), and once again living near my dearest friends. On the other hand, I'm really sad to be leaving my family. My comfort is that the world is a smaller place these days and that my parents are over in the States quite frequently so I know I'll see them - it's my siblings that I won't see so much, and my aunts and uncles. And that does make me sad - for myself and for Munchkin, as I'd have loved her to grow up knowing that they're nearby and that she can see them often. But such is an international marriage - one of our families will is going to get the short end of the stick and I guess now it's my turn. Doesn't make it any easier, however.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Siblings in Spain last month - missing them already and we're not even gone yet. :(</span></td></tr>
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So - in the last month here's what's been on our plates: family holiday in Spain (which was fantastic and much-needed - photos to come); sorting, purging, packing-up and moving out of our much-loved apartment; move in with my very generous sister in her lovely house; doctors appointments, doctors appointments, doctors appointments to make sure everything is taken care of before we leave; in-laws arriving for a 10 day visit; fundraising, training and organizing our 10 or 20 mile hike in the Mourne Mountains to raise money, in Sue's memory, for the Galway Hospice Foundation. It's been a tad busy here in Camp K. We've all been feeling a bit like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJr17HQvNWdvbDXdcXqViwATXLzwfzI9NiUsDfIeEkKisu7HXDghZBnxkhdYZHMtYElcos_lhtoFJBsJcWqNTey8AVoYCG85UxAlSShJuwKBsoQQWswHNtAQDx5DRXeKfPupSYnLDCLJc/s1600/IMG_1225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJr17HQvNWdvbDXdcXqViwATXLzwfzI9NiUsDfIeEkKisu7HXDghZBnxkhdYZHMtYElcos_lhtoFJBsJcWqNTey8AVoYCG85UxAlSShJuwKBsoQQWswHNtAQDx5DRXeKfPupSYnLDCLJc/s640/IMG_1225.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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We are two days away from our big fundraising hike and we're excited but anxious, too, that we're not going to reach our €5,000 goal (at this moment, we're at €4,398). If you've donated already, thank you SO much, it means so much to us. It was the only way we could think of to thank the Hospice for being so wonderful and such a support to Sue during her final days, and to us during that difficult time. If you haven't donated yet - maybe you'd give whatever you can, no matter how small. Every penny makes a difference, believe. You can <a href="http://www.mycharity.ie/event/sue_sheard_mourne_mountain_memorial_walk_2011/">click here</a> to donate and to read more about our challenge and about why we're undertaking this walk for the Hospice.</div>
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Back to the big change. Our plan is to move most likely during the second week of September (tickets are going to be bought this week, and my in-laws have graciously opened their home to us while we settle down and get on our feet, so to speak. So if you're in the DC area (or fancy a little visit to the Capital city) please let us know - we would love to see you and can't wait to catch up with our friends who are already there!<br />
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For now I'm going to leave you with some photos of our family holiday in Spain. We stayed here: <br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Montill%C3%B3n,+A+Estrada,+Espa%C3%B1a&aq=0&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=44.069599,93.076172&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Montill%C3%B3n,+A+Estrada,+Province+of+Pontevedra,+Galicia,+Spain&ll=42.599816,-8.488588&spn=1.285838,2.90863&z=9&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=embed&hl=en&geocode=&q=Montill%C3%B3n,+A+Estrada,+Espa%C3%B1a&aq=0&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=44.069599,93.076172&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Montill%C3%B3n,+A+Estrada,+Province+of+Pontevedra,+Galicia,+Spain&ll=42.599816,-8.488588&spn=1.285838,2.90863&z=9" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br />
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Near a little town called Montillón in Galicia in Spain. It was in the mountains and we rented a beautiful villa owned by the most generous and thoughtful landlords. We had a pool, tennis courts, a lovely big garden and games room and we had a really wonderful time hanging out, cooking and just spending time together. There was also a small mountain near the villa which we hiked (several times, for some of the group) in preparation for our hike on Saturday. It was a really lovely time and of course went too fast. So here it is in photos:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our villa<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Every property had one of these Galician "Horreos" - they're used to store corn</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tiniest church ever.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bZa921TUA8GzNHzmaxE_Mic4VATxXjiChDpBzNt5rrxbhdMfjXAn8H-jkl21H2Tabw0wI4OFkycbin1Q0szM98LJfXFAa2-e-x3iIlYsmCDPaj3wwPt0MnHRYpOJ3TyOUW-_0fy5zs4/s1600/P1020039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0bZa921TUA8GzNHzmaxE_Mic4VATxXjiChDpBzNt5rrxbhdMfjXAn8H-jkl21H2Tabw0wI4OFkycbin1Q0szM98LJfXFAa2-e-x3iIlYsmCDPaj3wwPt0MnHRYpOJ3TyOUW-_0fy5zs4/s640/P1020039.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We celerbated our 6th Anniversary on the day we traveled to Spain. (Fun fact - we spent our 1st anniversary on a plane, too - due to plane troubles, we flew to Mexico a day later than planned, which ended up being our anniversary.)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZztBCC1DBy3Ah52uwDZc2mTYcW5GS0y-5ztr0wCbzTXix5qk-dVk5MUuBr__6Qg1RtiMJpL1_GeMlzDVEnnhchBMkzXipCG-eT3M_qkyihDh6H-_GrPMgM-YwuqZr0LY7xxALXiMceL0/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZztBCC1DBy3Ah52uwDZc2mTYcW5GS0y-5ztr0wCbzTXix5qk-dVk5MUuBr__6Qg1RtiMJpL1_GeMlzDVEnnhchBMkzXipCG-eT3M_qkyihDh6H-_GrPMgM-YwuqZr0LY7xxALXiMceL0/s640/IMG_1205.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful town of Biaona, where we stopped on our way to Porto to catch our flight home.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwPfA1GI0E7j4T8xLGnJW_wVKhXMOUMFNCitCWX-0Shdq5YBIxuOQ0hIHXp8NNCMESUHs7v6PHao1_OKeaTlA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Walking through the streets of Biaona</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUzqgsVc1wSu0Zwo33XSNPc2STVbCOigIYhMH77243tf5dFgZX5jyua82afk9KZJlq6P3kuEA6uAGw4epd2NpF88yn9u1kEh8SCF7lEqhAilTzuCFU-dS9XCU_cLvET8aW5JYhLHSqVY/s1600/P1020065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUzqgsVc1wSu0Zwo33XSNPc2STVbCOigIYhMH77243tf5dFgZX5jyua82afk9KZJlq6P3kuEA6uAGw4epd2NpF88yn9u1kEh8SCF7lEqhAilTzuCFU-dS9XCU_cLvET8aW5JYhLHSqVY/s640/P1020065.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of course the photo never does justice -but the moon was incredible! The way the clouds were somehow made it seem as though we could reach out and touch the moon. It was beautiful.</span></td></tr>
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More to come soon - I promise!</div>
Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284294819824088878.post-52461594152600401162011-07-20T08:23:00.000-07:002011-07-20T08:23:51.424-07:00STRESSED!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">This is how I feel today.</div><a href="http://www.stressrelief-tips.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/stressed-out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.stressrelief-tips.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/stressed-out.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.ie/imgres?imgurl=http://brentsalyers.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/stressed-out-women.jpeg&imgrefurl=http://brentsalyers.wordpress.com/2011/06/02/stressed-out/anger/&usg=__RspsYZJ39_l-Mj8Y-cTQs_K5tYg=&h=805&w=596&sz=247&hl=en&start=18&sig2=EoBd1rLYbTv-Y7QrHt_oDg&zoom=1&tbnid=YDACi8K8ZlbHUM:&tbnh=180&tbnw=163&ei=o_AmTtubJ4uIhQfq2I2RCg&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dstressed%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26biw%3D1440%26bih%3D694%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=575&vpy=329&dur=177&hovh=261&hovw=193&tx=84&ty=164&page=2&ndsp=20&ved=1t:429,r:2,s:18&biw=1440&bih=694">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And this:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://thatstotallytarot.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/work_stress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://thatstotallytarot.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/work_stress.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.ie/imgres?imgurl=http://thatstotallytarot.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/work_stress.jpg&imgrefurl=http://thatstotallytarot.com/tag/stress/&usg=__vNbTmgJQqejmhvZ0jORq0EVSQqU=&h=291&w=412&sz=72&hl=en&start=76&sig2=0R8Nmq9WlOhFwVg5S628UA&zoom=1&tbnid=vqVRUhp9WtquUM:&tbnh=153&tbnw=217&ei=o_AmTtubJ4uIhQfq2I2RCg&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dstressed%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26biw%3D1440%26bih%3D694%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=202&page=5&ndsp=18&ved=1t:429,r:9,s:76&tx=90&ty=140&biw=1440&bih=694">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And this:</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iKHpWCi4t3Cah6y6NX3Gk5R0_bGTkKtxj6fw20L7QufoVtYxdFFKJEZVyIQhS2R77bEl60eEEStBnlek_4EEUoSgfTUmanRVU3_8G827gTeeLfWCF-CyQ_XcS4XVrGmNpul2x9mxYXTV/s320/crying+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iKHpWCi4t3Cah6y6NX3Gk5R0_bGTkKtxj6fw20L7QufoVtYxdFFKJEZVyIQhS2R77bEl60eEEStBnlek_4EEUoSgfTUmanRVU3_8G827gTeeLfWCF-CyQ_XcS4XVrGmNpul2x9mxYXTV/s1600/crying+girl.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.ie/imgres?imgurl=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iKHpWCi4t3Cah6y6NX3Gk5R0_bGTkKtxj6fw20L7QufoVtYxdFFKJEZVyIQhS2R77bEl60eEEStBnlek_4EEUoSgfTUmanRVU3_8G827gTeeLfWCF-CyQ_XcS4XVrGmNpul2x9mxYXTV/s320/crying+girl.jpg&imgrefurl=http://plumeriagirl.blogspot.com/2009_05_01_archive.html&usg=__gHLtWQtahLDSGQ6yDBinGdD5IHw=&h=320&w=291&sz=21&hl=en&start=0&sig2=O5vBZXhYchDmSoM9nd7QOg&zoom=1&tbnid=ACnC8jJKZYCUEM:&tbnh=155&tbnw=139&ei=SPEmTsmZF5OAhQfi1eWJCg&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dlittle%2Bgirl%2Bcrying%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26biw%3D1440%26bih%3D694%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=328&vpy=309&dur=218&hovh=181&hovw=163&tx=102&ty=77&page=1&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:8,s:0&biw=1440&bih=694">via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Typically after a vacation you're not supposed to feel this way, right? The vacation didn't do this to me, btw! I have so much to write about (if anyone is still reading this) - the rest of our London trip, our Spain vacation, and other news. I wouldn't plan on seeing me much for a few days, however. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In the meantime, here's a little (camera phone) pic of a lovely little town called Biaona in Spain where we had lunch one day. More to come...eventually!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-efpcLILk1JWn35RK1mHkvxEfPtokaGVww-qcfi1gKX4_a1KTXnJqQi8xRDxaQV_NhzOuH_vOj49PW7eqtXrEj0_J95vnVJ44YKBvf_2sqBKrPDaFzKiT_1bcDjJmugM50SJrEa78PE/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-efpcLILk1JWn35RK1mHkvxEfPtokaGVww-qcfi1gKX4_a1KTXnJqQi8xRDxaQV_NhzOuH_vOj49PW7eqtXrEj0_J95vnVJ44YKBvf_2sqBKrPDaFzKiT_1bcDjJmugM50SJrEa78PE/s640/IMG_1205.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09297190711502149263noreply@blogger.com2