Growing Stuff

May 7, 2013May 11, 2013 | Tracy

I have never been much of a plant person. I love fresh herbs for cooking and can arrange flowers, both real and not, but growing something myself has never, ever been something I’m good at. But we live in an apartment so gardening is out of the question anyway.

However, I couldn’t resist the mini herb garden kit at IKEA on our last visit. Basil, coriander and thyme seeds with the dirt and containers to put them in, all for €3,00.

I had the kit for about a week before I got brave enough to open it. It took me a while to figure out that the little brown discs were actually potting soil that had been compressed. But once I figured out how to un-compress the potting soil, the rest was pretty simple. That was two weeks ago.

This week there has been some amazing progress and I have little baby sprouts of basil, coriander and thyme. I’ve been so excited about my baby plants and have even started to rotate the pots so that they grow straight instead of leaning one direction toward the window.

I’ve watered them a bit every third day and am surprised by how fast the little sprouts grow. I was giddy with excitement when I realized this morning that in addition to the baby sprouts I already have there are even more getting ready to break through the dirt any day now.

Alan says I haven’t been so excited about growing things since I quit playing Farmville on Facebook! He’s right, of course, but I’m still pretty happy with my baby plants!

2012 Year in Review page finally live!

May 7, 2013May 7, 2013 | Tracy

We have just completed the 2012 Year in Review. This is our second “year in review” and again we are amazed at how much we actually did over a twelve month time frame.

Much love to all who made our 2012 a great one!

To access the page, click the link above or go to the Year in Review drop down menu on the home page.

Enjoying the Open Air Market

May 7, 2013July 28, 2013 | Alan

One of our goals with our new retired life is to eat healthier.

In the past it was always faster and often more convenient to swing by a “drive-up window” and pick up a quick meal. Even though I knew better about nutrition, it was quick and satisfying to grab Quarter Pounder with Cheese, a Baconator, or Extreme Sausage Sandwich. I love a good cheeseburger, et. al, but “everything in moderation” and sometimes I wasn’t moderate in my dining habits. (You would think that after documentaries like “Super Size Me” I would have long ago been avoiding fast foods.) Please don’t think Tracy and I raised the kids on fast food and that we didn’t use healthy foods to prepare meals, but we also took our fair share of “short-cuts” to the “drive-up.”

With a major change in environment and limited access to fast food, Tracy and I wanted to create new eating habits that actually follow the USDA Food Pyramid recommendations we previous ignored if it wasn’t convenient. (But still enjoy an occasional, emphasis on “occasional,” indulgence.)

Tracy and I both love to cook and try new recipes. Now we have a lot of brand new ingredients to explore with our cooking. We want to minimize meat and emphasize vegetables, fruits, and grains. We also wanted to use farm fresh, local foods as much as possible and avoid frozen, canned, and pre-packaged foods. There are no excuses as we now have the time with retirement to enjoy making our meals completely from scratch.

One pleasure has been shopping at the open air market in Place Carnot. Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday is market day in Carcassonne. The town square in Place Carnot is full of tables with vegetables, fruits, honey, breads, meats, and flowers. We are now shopping for seasonal and fresh foods, usually directly from and sold by the farmers themselves. (There are also some imports from Spain, Italy, and North Africa also available. The country of origins on all foods are clearly identified.) Colors are often vivid with some shocking differences in foods’ colors that we only used to see in heirloom and heritage produce in the U.S.

I realize I am stating the obvious regarding the local food being is raised for its taste, rather than its ability to be trucked long distances and to last longer on store shelves. There are many new and different flavors to experience. (And new names for old favorites: mushroom are des champignons, potatoes are des pommes de terre, and strawberries as des fraises.) Yes, I already knew about the improved quality of local foods but it’s an evolution for me to experience it on a continuous basis. I never had or took the time to shop farmer’s markets or to garden at home. (I have a “black thumb” when plants are involved. There were only silk plants in my old office.) Previously tt was always a matter of running by the supermarket’s vegetable section or stocking frozen vegetables in the freezer.

The experience of shopping at the open air market is a theater upon itself: all different kinds of people coming and going, the various interactions between buyers and sellers, people looking for the best quality at the best value, friendly “bonjours” and “au revoirs,” and us standing in the middle of it. We are already choosing our favorite vendors. We have our farmer with the freshest and best tasting tomatoes. There is our “Melon Man” who insists we taste a slice of his cantaloupes first before he hand-picks the ripest melons for us. There are the vendors who are exceedingly patient with my limited French when they ask for, “Trois euros cinquante-cinq centimes” (3 euros 55 cents) and make a point to write the amount out on a pad of paper or show me the amount on the calculator.

And the best part is, of course, cooking and eating our bounty then returning to the market do it all again.

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Wow, One Month Already

May 3, 2013May 7, 2013 | Tracy

It’s hard to believe that we’ve been here a month already. Time has sure passed quickly as we worked on settling in to our new community.

So far in the last 30 days, we’ve made two train trips to Montpellier; had a sick computer and a sick puppy; rode the bus – mostly successfully; shopped at the open-air market, found a grocery store we like; selected a favorite coffee bar; visited a medieval citadel; taken lots of long walks along the river; have been to the tourist office, the post office, the bank, the veterinary office, the butcher, the pharmacy, the train station and one of the museums.

We’ve talked to people from France, Germany and England, taken hundreds of photos and studied zero French.

We’ve been able to keep in touch with the kids, our family and friends through social media sites and e-mail. Major plus as we miss the kids quite a bit.

We read from others that dealing with OFII would be time-consuming and difficult process but haven’t found that to be true. Within our first 30 days, we mailed our documents to them with the requested copies of our passport, visa and visa stamp. We received our notification that the materials were received within 10 days of our arrival. Ten days later we received our letters from OFII with the time and date of our meeting for our medical exam and general interviews. Definitely not the nail-biting situation we had expected.

Now that we are settled into our Carcassonne home and have completed our first month abroad we are creating a schedule for travel, adding French lessons into our daily routine and making plans for our OFII trip in May.

Living in Carcassonne is wonderful, but it still feels a little like being on vacation and Alan and I keep reminding each other that we don’t need to rush around trying to see everything possible each day. We have 11 more months to wander and explore, learn some French, do some out-of-town travel, visit a friend or two also living abroad and drink more wine.

So far, life is great. Alan and I are so grateful for the opportunity we’ve been given and the love and support of our kids, family and friends.

Our Carcassonne Home

April 28, 2013July 28, 2013 | Tracy

This post is mostly for my mom, so she can see where we are living!

Our apartment here in Carcassonne is approximately 550 square feet, maybe a little bigger. So as I sit here listening to “Good Life” by One Republic I thought I would post a few photos of our home here in Carcassonne, France.

This first image is not to scale, just a general layout of the apartment that I threw together in Photoshop.

The apartment is roughly a square and there isn’t a ton of insulation so you do hear the neighbors from time to time, but after living with eight kids noises don’t really bother us anymore! However, you can also hear the church bells from St. Nazaire in Le Cite and from St. Michael’s down the street. It’s a happy sound and one that I fell in love with while we were in Italy, although the bells in Italy are much, much louder!

In addition to the church bells, we had the added treat of someone playing the sax with gusto late last night. But these are comfort noises and we had no trouble sleeping.

Most buildings in our area date from the late 15th to early 16th Century but we do not have an exact date on when our building was built. We do know that the interior was nearly completely gutted and remodeled about 5 years ago. The new owner, our landlord Jason Carr, did a fantastic job keeping as many of the original details as he could salvage. The handrail on the staircase is original to the building and was handcrafted to fit the narrow space a long time ago.

In addition to the handrail, nearly half of the ceiling in our apartment as well as the two big beams are also original to the building. They were repainted in the original whitewash color (which has a slightly blueish tint). One section also has three of the original nails, hand hammered and looking a bit like large horseshoe nails.

There is a city council group that deals with renovating old buildings and they check that anything that can be seen from the street is restored or as near to period as is possible to achieve when someone renovates an old building in the Ville Basse. We are lucky to be in the front apartment and therefore have some of the original ceiling and beams in our apartment.

In the living room the furniture is mostly from IKEA, but it’s solid and comfortable, a lot of blue which Alan loves and the minimalist approach to filling the apartment works well for me as I have an issue with clutter. There is a flat-screen tv with both French and UK satellite channels, but we rarely turn it on. The couch converts into a double bed for guests which will be useful in the near future. The windows in both the living room and bedroom have small window seats and large shutters than can be fully open to allow passive solar, closed part way for privacy or even closed fully to keep out the hot summer sun. We love that the shutters here are practical and not just a design feature.

We did set up Kiara’s stuff in front of the heater. Our poor little girl hardly has any hair and is not a real fan of tile floors, so keeping her from shivering is a constant battle. But she loves, loves, loves the rug, even though it’s practically magenta in color, so much for her taste in decor.

She also has her own little espresso cup for water and a travel container for her dry food – which she rarely eats.

The dresser is in the living room, which we both thought odd at first. I added some of the pillows from the couch to break up the white on white color, a couple of photos I brought with me (the small one on the left of the pillow is my Mom and Dad, on the right is our Max), a knick knack that my mom got me before we left about daughters, and we use the vase to store wine bottle corks!

However, since the dresser serves as a place to store camera/photo equipment cords and backup drives (first full width drawer), our bath stuff (top left), Kiara’s closet (top right), the “overflow” drawer (bottom) as well as a dresser for socks and stuff, it’s becoming less of an oddity than it was on day one.

There is a bookcase that we use to house our laptops and camera stuff next to the dining room table and next to the dresser.

The bathroom shares the wall in the dining room and is surprisingly spacious for a European bath. The corner shower allows more space than we anticipated. Our hotel in Florence in 2011 made taking a shower an epic event, it was just wide enough for me to stand in without turning and I had to duck to get my hair wet. Alan’s relief when he saw the shower in this apartment was practically comical. The one feature I really like is the towel heater. Not only does it warm your towel while you shower it radiates just enough heat to be comfy while doing your hair too.

The kitchen is actually larger than the one we had in our apartment in Sparks. The fridge looks like a pantry as well as the cabinet that houses the microwave. The crisper drawers in the fridge are each about 7″ x 7″ x 6″ they are “cute.” The kitchen already had dishes, cookware, flatware, glasses, and cooking utensils. But we still picked up a few things which we felt were a big necessity like a corkscrew, mortar and pestle (which weighs about 10 pounds), bottles for olive oil. We also picked up drawer organizers for the dresser in the living room (I dislike clutter in drawers too). Probably the oddest thing in the kitchen is the washer/dryer combo unit. The barrel inside is only about 9″ deep and it takes approximately 4 hours to do a small load of laundry, but it gets the clothes clean and doesn’t make a lot of noise.

The bedroom is on small side but when the door is closed and the heater is on, it’s super cozy. We had really minimized our possessions before moving, so even the small armoire is more than enough room for all our clothing, though we did pick up additional hangers from IKEA so that everything had a hanger of its own. Another weird issue of mine. The pink thing in the bottom of the closet is Kiara’s travel playpen, it’s like a mini pop-up tent with tons of room for her and her stuff.

We feel like we’re getting a handle on the European apartment and small space lifestyle. We still find challenges once in a while, but all in all, it’s a nice space in a historic area. Alan and I have heard that tourist season is a little crazy in our neighborhood, but we are not expecting it to be any different than Hot August Nights or the Rib Cook-off events we’ve attended for years.

We know that small and minimalist spaces and apartment living may not work for everyone, but did we mention that there is a freakin’ CASTLE in the backyard??

Birthday Reflections

April 24, 2013 | Tracy

Today is my birthday. My 27^th, plus a few anniversaries of my 27^th! Each year on this day I like to reflect about where I am, what I’m doing and who I’m doing it with. This year is one of the best so far. I am married to a man I adore. My kids have all grown into exceptional people. Our family has grown with the addition of Trey, Liz, Nicole, Nicole, Joey, and our grandchildren, Lorelei, Carter, Lillian and Avery four of the best grandkids ever! I am at a place in my life where I am happy, retired, and living abroad, just like Alan and I had planned. Life is good!

But as with all the years before, this one I find myself wondering how I got so lucky. Many of you who know me may not know my secret: I had amazing parents.

Not just great parents, but amazing parents. I’m not saying that they didn’t ground us when we got out of line, or spank us when we were bad, but they loved us enough to get mad at us when we got out of line and to expect us to be better people.

I remember my Mom telling me recently that a friend of hers mentioned that we never talk much about our childhood when we’re together. I told her that as an adult I realized that many people didn’t have the same childhood and so after a while it almost feels like bragging to say that you’re family had no dysfunction and that you had an ideal childhood.

But today is different, because it’s my time to reflect and I owe a large part of my success to my parents. They were not the kind of parents who sat on the sidelines watching their children practice baseball, they coached the team. I remember growing up in Redding, California when the summers would get up to 120 degrees. We had a swimming pool in the backyard, but neither of my parents swam. So to ensure that their children didn’t drown in the pool they signed us up for swim lessons, every single summer. I remember my mother sitting on a hot metal bench for hours and hours every day while the four of us girls were in the water. She never complained, not once, not ever.

My mother was completely selfless. She literally was the world’s greatest Mom. Not because the living was full of presents at Christmas (although it was), or that birthdays were not a huge to do (they were — I got a BB gun and a horse [Libertee] for my 12th birthday). It was because she cooked us breakfast every single morning regardless of what her day was like or whether or not she had to go to work, not cold cereal, but bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles, or omelets. Every. Single. Day.

She and my father put is in private school so that we would get a good education. They drove us round trip nearly 25 miles a day through the school year. Twice a day if one of us had practice since we played softball, volleyball, basketball and did cheerleading.

However, I don’t recall either of them spending money for new cars, new clothes, new shoes for themselves, but us girls never wanted for anything. And we didn’t have to suffer through a parent ranting about all the luxuries they got for us, not once in my entire life did either of my parents make us feel bad for the things that they did for us or didn’t do for themselves. Completely selfless.

They taught us the value of family, those people in your life that drive you crazy, but love and support you, regardless of what dumbass thing you’ve just done. That’s not to say they won’t tease you about it for the remainder of your life, but to the world in general they show complete and total solidarity. At least that’s what I grew up believing to be true according to Mom and Dad.

I remember in high school complaining to a friend about one of my sisters with whom I had recently had a fight when a boy who had overheard said something nasty about her. My wrath was immediate and I swung around and punched him in the face telling him “Don’t you dare speak about my sister like that.” I didn’t break his nose but he was bleeding pretty badly, I nearly got suspended from school, until my Dad asked why I had hit him. I told him why and my Dad told the principal, he probably shouldn’t have said that about her sister. In my Dad’s mind, I was in the right and the boy was in the wrong, he defended me to the principal and I promised the principal that I wouldn’t hit him again as long as he didn’t talk crap about my sister. Family, blood thicker than water, et. al. They always had our backs.

My parents taught us so many lessons about family, faith, persistence, happiness, and work ethic. My biggest fear in life has always been to disappoint these two amazing people. Their lessons have all stuck with me and to this day I still base many of my decisions on whether or not they would be proud of the results.

They are in fact my secret weapon for a simple, happy life. The arsenal: work hard, play hard, love easily, live life to the fullest. Never settle for second-best, when first place is achievable. Hard work will get you all the luck you need, good choices will complete the process. The lessons were many, I cherish them all. Dad had a saying for everything. Some of my dearly loved favorites are:

“Consider it done.” This was a response to anything asked of him, ever.

“If you look under rocks, you’re bound to find snakes.” When boy trouble occurred in a house full of girls.

“Do you want it hard enough to work for it?” When asked about borrowing cash, cars, clothes from either parent.

“Everything is fine when done in moderation.” A response to “there’s a party this weekend, Dad, can I go?”

They were quirky and funny and I love them both so much for taking the time to put thought into childrearing. Every single lesson has made me the person I am today and I am eternally grateful for each and every one of them.

They didn’t chastise often, but let you know that they were onto your fun and games behind their backs. Cruising was very popular when I was a teenager. How else does one find a party on the weekend, right? My parents would let us get ready, leave the house and usually within the hour we would see them “cruising” as well. Kind of puts a damper on the whole idea when your parents are driving by and waving at you.

When I used to go to this one particular dive bar with a borrowed ID, my Dad would often show up outside the bar at 2 am to give me a lift home, nothing was ever said, just a safe ride home for his errant daughter and her friends.

I snuck out of the house a couple of times as a kid, the first night I tried my Dad had fallen asleep on the couch watching the news. As I tiptoed by him, he said to me “Do you have enough money?” I responded, “Yea Dad, I’m good.” He said, “Be home before 5, you know your Mom gets up early.” “Okay Dad, Love you.” I told him before leaving the house. This became a ritual we repeated many, many times. I hadn’t even realized until I was telling that story about a year after he passed away, that he never told my mother, not even after I was grown and gone, but kept that confidence the rest of his life.

These two people are completely and totally responsible for the person I am today. And, since it’s my birthday, I’d just like to say Thanks Mom and Dad, you guys are awesome!!

My Mom and Dad, Doug and Etta White, circa 1963

Mom, Dad and Me, circa 1964

Mom and Me the day I married Alan, Dad was there in spirit

Bus Riding 101 and a Shark Face

April 24, 2013July 28, 2013 | Tracy

Yesterday we rode the bus for the first time here in Carcassonne.

We are not the world’s most experienced travelers, but we have used public transportation before in San Francisco, Washington, D.C. and Rome while traveling. It isn’t that hard to figure out how a bus, trolley, metro works but there are some differences in each place . . . we learned about some of those differences on our travels yesterday.

We woke up and decided today is the day we will try riding the bus. Where to go? The grocery store, of course. In many places and even in Reno/Sparks the buses always have stops near grocery stores and we wanted to look for better grocery prices than those in the tourist areas, which we know are higher priced with minimal selection. We had visited a Geant Casino supermarket in Montpellier and Alan did a little online research and found there are two here in Carcassonne. So we got ready and headed out to ride the bus to a grocery store.

Which bus to take? There are 11 bus routes around Carcassonne, there is no printed route map that has all of the routes listed. Cathy, our new friend at the tourist office had told us that one street over from ours is one of the main offices of the bus system Agglo’transport. So we headed to the bus system office.

Alan talked to the nice elderly gentleman behind the counter and asked if he spoke English. He said with a surprisingly Italian accent, “a little.” Alan said we wanted to go to Geant Casino, the man asked “which one?” Alan replied “either one.” The little man, circling the times on the route 1 brochure, said “that’s your bus out there, go, I call and let him know you come.”

So without any fanfare, we raced over to hop on a bus. Alan had thoughtfully scooped up the brochure before leaving the bus office.

We board the bus and the driver said, “Geant Casino” we smiled and said “Oui.” We paid him 2 Euro and found a seat.

15 minutes later we arrive at Geant Casino and get off the bus. TaDa! Bus trip number 1 accomplished!! We congratulated each other and entered the store to have our first “supermarket” experience in Carcassonne.

We went inside, found that it is like a mini-mall, and there was a coffee bar so Cafe Creme it is! A nice way to celebrate our successful bus riding affair.

Fortified with caffeine, we go to the corral of shopping carts only to realize that they are all chained together. We look around and see that other people have shopping carts and realize that there must be a way to get one unlocked. We look at the mechanism, there are no directions. Alan notices a slot and realizes that something must fit in it to remove the hook from the cart. We assume a coin of some sort, but there are lots of coins and we’re not sure which and don’t want to jam the mechanism.

Thankfully, a little girl about 10 years old comes by to get the cart for her mom and Alan notices that she got the cart unlocked, then scooped out a handful of coins and asked, “which one?” She grabbed a 2 Euro coin and showed him it was too big. He scooped out another handful of coins and she selected the 1 Euro coin and showed him how to unlock the cart.

So we’ve now been inside the building for 45 minutes and we’ve managed to drink a cup of coffee and unlock the grocery cart. Feeling a bit deflated after our earlier high, we head into the store and spend the next two hours walking up and down every aisle trying to familiarize ourselves with the grocery store.

As some of you have already read, I had issues over the potato chips. Realizing that this supermarket has much better prices than the ones downtown in the tourist area we select a few purchases for the upcoming week and head to the checkout.

And voila! Bus ride and grocery shopping, done. We even figured out how to get the 1 Euro coin back out of the cart lock mechanism – score!

We walk back to the bus stop where we got off the bus and headed across the street believing that the return trip would start there. We only had to wait about 10 minutes before the driver arrived with the bus.

Yippee! Bus ride number 2, commenced!

The bus didn’t use the same route on the return and we unknowingly figured that it would get to where it was going, circle back and repeat the route. It’s how it works most everywhere we’ve been before. So we stay on the bus and when we reach the far side of town, enjoying the sightseeing, in the opposite direction of where we got on, the driver stops and as we are the only ones still on the bus says “Terminus – you must got off!”

A little shocked and wary, we gather our two bags of goodies from the grocery store and hop off the bus. Alan asks the driver “Is another bus coming?” the driver says “Oui” and leaves. We look at each other and realize we haven’t the slightest clue where we are. I told Alan ‘I think we’re near the other Geant Casino, I think I recognized the logo a couple of stops before this one.” He says, “then we’re on the other side of town.”

Okay then, but we want to be on OUR side of town. Where we got on the bus, near the apartment, not here with bags of groceries and no bus.

We had spotted a KFC across the roundabout and decide to take a moment to regroup, eat something, get something cold to drink and then look at the bus schedule. Alan spotted the bus schedule kiosk so we noted the time for the next bus would arrive and headed over to KFC to grab some lunch. We pulled out the bus route brochure Alan had thoughtfully scooped up at the bus office, look at it after we eat and realize that there are little tiny, hard to see without your glasses, arrows showing the direction the bus travels and realize that the next bus would take us back to our original starting point.

We finish our drinks, walk back to the stop where the driver left us and waited until the bus returned. A different driver thankfully, one that hadn’t been witness to our “tourist” moment earlier.

We hopped on paid the driver and found a seat, rode until we reached our original starting point and felt pretty pleased that we didn’t let the whole extra two hour experience totally ruin the day.

This morning we decide to purposefully ride to the “other” Geant Casino and check their selection and prices and to determine which of the two will make for an easier trip with bags of groceries. Yesterdays experience has made us wary.

We walked to the bus stop near the train station since we now know that we need to be on that part of the route to go where we want to go. The driver, same guy who dropped us at the “terminus” yesterday recognizes us and asks “Geant Casino” to which I stupidly reply, “Yes!” The driver tells us to take the other bus, #2, which had just pulled up behind him thinking that I wanted to go to same Geant Casino as I did yesterday. Confused we walk to bus #2 and ask Geant Casino, the driver shakes his head and points back to bus #1. We walk back to bus #1 and the driver shakes his head. The poor man is probably thinking we’re stupid tourists who like to be lost, but we pay him the fare and find a seat.

We did end up at Geant Casino #2, and did our shopping. Today’s Geant Casino had really, really fresh fish — including a small shark displayed with the head removed and set to the side with a lemon in its mouth! We opted for pork instead. This store had the same deplorable selection of potato chips, in case anyone was wondering. Then managed to catch the right bus to the stop a block from the apartment. We have decided that Geant #2 is the better route, a longer walk to catch the bus but a shorter walk with bags of groceries.

Now I’m wondering if the driver works that route all the time as I fear that every time he sees us from now on he may think we are his weirdo riders who fly all the way to France to get lost on a bus looking for grocery stores. Can’t image what he told his family about us today!

Agglo’transport Bus #1 (with our favorite driver!)

Once again, we found chicken flavoring on chips. But I really love the “bursting with flavor” on the ketchup flavored chips!!

Today’s fresh catch.

Lemon Shark??

Kiara Update

April 23, 2013February 10, 2014 | Tracy

These first few weeks have been rough on our little girl. Although it is never easy to determine what emotional or physical stressors your pet may feel, we do have a couple of indicators with Kiara.

Tail up, life is good. Tail down, not happy with you. Ears to the side, life is good. Ears behind me, not happy with you. Ears wiggling, I’m nervous. Ears straight forward, I’m on alert. Eyes soft and mildly sleepy, life is good. Eyes wide open, something’s up. Holding eye contact, life is good. Giving you the “side eye” stare, I’m pissed at you. And regardless of who gives the daily medication, the half-lidded, side-eye stare afterwards means Daddy is a jerk. Not sure why Daddy gets the brunt of the anger over medication, but it’s true all the same.

There are a lot more “tells” with our little dog. We pay very close attention to her and spend a lot of time watching her and trying to interpret what she wants when she stands in front of you looking with her big, soft, dark, dark eyes willing you to understand her. Drink, Hungry, Walk, Bedtime . . . she knows these words. If she stands in front of you and you say the thing she wants, she dances around and her ears wobble. Her way of saying, “good girl you got it!” She hasn’t lived with many other dogs and really doesn’t have much use for them anyway. Kiara is a “people,” she is not a dog and believes that she should not have to interact with some of those hairy, wet-nosed animals that try to flip her over from behind. She will walk around a potential canine friend to “introduce” herself to the person holding it’s leash. She doesn’t even know that dogs don’t usually hold a person’s gaze, she’ll look us straight in the eye and will us to understand what she wants. She’s not a barker either, odd for a little dog, but she rarely barks except to get our attention or to tell us someone is at the door. She’s quirky and funny and quiet . . . and for a week, she was blind. On Friday, April 12, Kiara had 8 seizures throughout the day that left her blind and with a loss of her gross motor skills.

Thankfully, her new French doctor, Dr. Broy, believed it to be a temporary situation. We have known since her first seizure at less than a year old that these symptoms may someday occur. To add to the complication of not being able to see, her gross motor skills were also affected in the seizure event. She was wobbly and toppled over if left standing on her own without support. But Dr. Broy seemed very assured that within 5 to 8 days our girl would be back to normal, or at least her version of normal.

We knew from the first seizure that Kiara’s lifespan would not be as long as other dogs in her weight class. We knew that having to put her on phenobarbital would eventually damage her liver. We knew that our baby required some fairly high maintenance care, medication twice a day for life, blood work twice a year for life, the need for better nutrition to keep her fit so that her medication is always at optimal range. Monitoring her behavior for signs of an approaching event. Making sure that she doesn’t suffer from undue stress. We even made sure to never leave her with strangers but hired sons, daughters, nieces and nephews to care for her when we had to be gone. Traveling meant having to remember to check that there would be enough medication for the trip and travel cases to keep it cold. But we’ve been happy to do it as she is ours to care for and we take that responsibility seriously.

So even though none of the current symptoms is a surprise, it still came as quite a shock to be told “She does not see.”

But let me back up to the stress issue. Her new doctor, a neurologist veterinarian (a dream for parents of a seizure dog) believes that stress played a part in the initial seizure event that got us where we were last week. We thought we took all the right precautions. We got the travel carrier months prior to our departure and put her in it often so that it wasn’t a shock. We opened the side panel and left her to wander in and out on her own. The day we left for France, we added her favorite blanket, her stuffed friend, her travel food dishes that she’s used for 3 years, and her hand-made halter so she wouldn’t beep going through the scanner with Mommy and be scared. We even selected an airline based on their in-flight animal policies so that she could travel on the plane with us.

Once we arrived, we put out her potty grass system that she’s used for 18 months successfully, her special pillow and other favorite blanket. A few of her toys and her food dishes with the food we brought with us. She didn’t have access to the bed like in our old place (it was a low platform bed she could get on by herself), but we tried to make sure that she had access to as many familiar things as possible.

And I think we got it right, for the most part, except for the tile floors (which she hates) and the lack of carpeting (which she loves). We no longer own a car, so we go everywhere on foot. We did prepare for her stamina being different than ours and bought a chest carrier, even used it a couple of times with her before we left until the cold weather drove us indoors. But the mistake that may have been made was in not preparing her for the physical changes we would ask of her in addition to all the new smells of a new home. We now take her for walks three times a day. Not long walks, but in the morning to Gambetta Square, in the afternoon to the river walk, and in the evening to the park on the far side of the river. It’s a lot more physical activity than she is used to and coupled with the cold, cold weather and cold, cold apartment interior upon our arrival I believe that our darling, little girl may have thought she was in the frozen version of hell.

And, although we took her out often, we also left her alone for an hour or two at a time. I believe it was a blend of new surroundings, being alone, jet lag and lack of access to the bed (her favorite place to curl up and sleep), that lead to the stress that caused the seizure event. Although we thought we had covered all the bases our little girl has once again shown us that life has a way of side-stepping all your well thought out plans.

We moved last Saturday, to our permanent apartment here in Carcassonne. We had a couple of surprises for the little one, like a rug in the living room that is closer to carpet and morning sun (one of her favorite things in the whole world). We were just beginning to formulate a plan for how to proceed if these symptoms ended up to be permanent (like how to reintroduce her world to her). But the doctor was correct and tthe symptoms were temporary, and life returned to normal for this precious girl of ours, on day eight just as the doctor predicted. But we are certainly wiser for the experience and hopeful that we can prevent it from happening again by being aware that our little one does not think she is a dog and needs a little extra assistance in accepting a new situation and owning the experience, just as we do.

Kiara’s “hospital” bed while she was sick. Surrounded by pillows in case she tried to stand, so she wouldn’t hurt herself on the tile floor.

Kiara, fully recovered.

Kiara and Daddy at the park (Mommy took the photo).

Ten Early Observations

April 11, 2013April 24, 2013 | Alan

With a little more than a week in residence, there are a few observations I have made. It will be interesting to see if those observations remain true over time.

1. I can’t tell you how often I’ve been asked about French men wearing berets. Here in 2013 France I have only seen one older man, in Charles De Gaulle Airport, wearing a beret and I don’t know whether or not if he was actually French. The only other berets I have seen are the red military berets worn by members of the French 11th Parachute Brigade, 3rd Marine Infantry Parachute Regiment ( 3e Régiment de Parachutistes d’Infanterie de Marine, 3e RPIMa), a French Army paratrooper unit stationed here in Carcassonne. I did see two young French men in uniformed service with Kepi caps and train conductors wearing service caps. As a whole I would say most French men seldom wear hats at all during this time of year. If there was currently an iconic piece of French menswear during this time of year I woud say it is short scarfs tied with a Parisian knot.

2. Seldom do you see coffee in a “take-away” cup. Coffee culture here is such that you get your coffee in a ceramic or glass cup with the intent that you will savor it either sitting at a table or standing at the bar. Here coffee is a little harder to locate than in Italy were there were at least two coffee bars on every block.

3. However, in France it seems that there is at least two bakeries, boulangeries, on every block. The smell of fresh baked bread will make you detour to get a better whiff of the aroma. Bread appears to be king and you really do see people carrying their loaves of baguettes home. Bread is made without preservatives so it seldom lasts more than a couple days. And yes! The French pantries from the local pâtisserie really are as delicious as their reputation.

4. The local table wine by the carafe, un pichet de vin de maison, is always a good choice. Inexpensive and available by the quarter, half, or full liter carafe it can make a meal or just a break in the day more enjoyable. Blanc, rouge, rosé, surprisingly rose’ wine is a respected wine choice here.

5. It is true that French people are more reserved and formal. One will get an odd look if you wish a stranger a bonjour while walking down the street. But it is expected and polite to say bonjour and au revoir when entering or leaving a shop or restaurant. Please and thank you, s’il vous plaît and merci, are a necessary part of our vocabulary. But we have also found French people to be extremely friendly and helpful. Not as many people here speak English as we found in Italy, but all are patient with our broken French, pantomime, hand signals, and pre-translated notes. Attempting to speak French is normally greeted with a smile and an attempt to speak some words of English back.

6. The “reserved and formal” aspect of French behavior will often melt in the face of a two pound Chihuahua. Kiara is often greeted with smiles, praises, and even kisses. She is an amazing icebreaker in a sea of formality.

7. At least in this time and place we are frequently seen by French people as “generic English speakers” and most often mistaken as being from the United Kingdom. We assume the majority of English speaking visitors here are from the UK. We haven’t met any one that can differentiate a British from an American accent yet.

8. French people take great pride in their work. Baristas, wait staff, ticket agents, sales people, conductors, information desk staff all have a great work ethic and try to completely satisfy you. They often add personal touches above their basic job tasks. I was watching a window washer clean windows with a perfectionist’s attention. It seems the attitude was a job is required to be dome completely and right the first time. The éclairs that I picked up on the run today were exquisitely wrapped and in a precisely sized box, like a gift from Nordstrom’s at Christmas time.

9. Amazing the conventions you take for granted. Keyboards here are not the “QWERTY” style and surprisingly difficult to use after years of typing in the US. The hand sign for “one” is not the index finger, but the thumb. The French start counting with the thumb. Holding up an index finger will make a counter person assume “two.” Good table service is being left alone to enjoy your meal. Your coffee or meal “rents” you your table for as long as you want it. If you want your bill you need to request l’addition.

10. It is much quieter here. The volume is at a very genteel level in restaurants, stores, on the train, or walking down a city street. The volome of speaking is at a much quieter level. There is still the outburst of laughing, children playing, and public dispute between people, but in all the general tone of conversation is closer to what we expect in a library.