“How lovely yellow is! It stands for the sun.” – Vincent Van Gogh
‘Sunflowers’ – Vincent Van Gogh – Image from National Gallery, London
When The National Gallery newsletter announced their reader’s favorite painting for March last year, she was more than pleased. She had cast her vote. Seeing the image of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers in the article swept her back decades, to the first time she had visited the National Gallery.
She stood before that painting in such awe and wonder. Seeing the sunflowers, yellow, with heads bent. Some are naked, with petals dropped, they offer only their seed heads. Some in full yellow bloom, and one so young its leaves still cling to its stem, fifteen of them in all, a rich circle of life, gathered and standing in their yellow vase. The painting is signed along the vase. Vincent. Yes, simply Vincent.
That was her first trip to London and she was thrilled to be there in the excitement of the city. Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace, Green Park, Hyde Park, St Paul’s, Fleet St, The Tower and its Bridge. Westminster and the Tower of Big Ben. She knew she would return to London and the National Gallery for years to come and she did. Now, it has been nearly twenty years since she last walked those streets and she does long to see them again.
National Gallery, Trafalgar Square, London
“If you hear a voice within you saying, ”You are not a painter,” then by all means paint… and that voice will be silenced.” – Vincent van Gogh
“Breathe Paris in. It nourishes the soul.” — Victor Hugo
Le Roussillon – 186 Rue de Grenelle, 75007 Paris, France
In the Rue Cler Neighborhood among the specialty food markets sits one of my favorite restaurants in this area. Le Roussillon Cafe, on the corner of Rue Cler and Rue de Grenelle.
It’s April in Paris and the weather is gorgeous. Le Roussillon Cafe is an open air restaurant, cooking in house with the freshest ingredients. The expansive windows when opened are like removing the exterior walls. My favorite tables line the open wall facing Rue Cler. You can people watch for a moment. People shopping in the street’s food markets, heading out, and some heading home. Sitting here you feel all of Paris. You feel the air of Paris on your face and you breathe Paris in. It nourishes the soul.
We ate here on several occasions on our visit to Paris. It was near our hotel so we’d stop here for beers during happy hour or a late lunch. This was the place we returned to for our last dinner in Paris. The Le Roussillon team welcomes you and they are friendly and helpful when choosing menu items. The food, house-made, is always fresh and delicious.
That last night I decided on Boeuf Bourguignon comme chez mamie / Beef Burgundy Stew – Like Grandma’s. Chunks of tender beef, carrots and celery in a rich beef burgundy broth.
Dished up in a bowl along side a serving of creamy mashed potatoes and topped with parsley and thin slices of red pepper for presentation. Served with crusty French bread.
You taste Paris. Belly Warming. It nourishes the body.
Oui, Bienvenue au Roussillon Cafe! & We will return for your speciality cocktails and desserts!
Please tell the chef ‘my compliments to sa mamie!’
à bientôt, j’espère!
Boeuf Bourguignon comme chez mamie
“Paris is not a city; it’s a world.” — King Francis I
“My mother has a favorite child & she told me so. She said all mother’s do. Their answer is likely the same as hers. Her favorite child, she said, is always the child she is spending time with at that moment, the one she is present with now. And on that day her favorite child was me.”
-Mother In The Kitchen-
Momma loved soup, loved making soup, loved eating soup and she loved sharing soup.
Springhouse Court, a gathering place. The light is streaming into the kitchen from the sliding glass doors. Those doors nearly make up the entire wall on that side of the room. The wallpaper is a yellow checked pattern and covers the lower half of one wall. Momma is in the kitchen. Prepping ingredients for a soup. You don’t see Momma in the kitchen much. Not since we moved to this new place. Not now that the kitchen is so much smaller than the gathering place she had before. Not now that she works for the phone company. The fact that she works there leans more to the reason you don’t find her in the kitchen often. But she still loves to make soups and soup is what I’ve always found to be the most comforting food of all.
When I walk into the kitchen I hear the familiar sounds of my mother preparing a meal. Oil sizzling in the soup pot. Water running in the sink, she reaches to turn it off. The soft thud of the knife as it strikes the cutting board. She cuts the beef into cubes. Vegetables in every stage of prep line the sink and countertop. Mother’s making beef soup today. Specifically, beef and vegetable soup. Rolling the beef cubes in the seasoned flour she asks, “Suzy, will you please bring me those onions? I am about to get ahead of myself over here and I don’t want to forget the onions.” I bring the diced onions to her and smile. Mother uses that phrase ‘get ahead of myself’ or ‘get ahead of yourself’ a lot and a comical image of just that always goes through my mind. The image makes me smile.
In hurried preparation. Mother is moving from sink, to stove, to fridge, back to cutting board. Her smile lights up her face and those brown eyes smile at you too.
And she asks …“Suzy, do you know What?” She asks this same question to all her children and grandchildren. She always says your name before the question. My reply- always the same. And her answer never fails and you know the answer but you never let on. You never let on because you want to hear it, and just as importantly- you know she wants to answer it-so you say “No momma, What?’ And she answers, “I love you. That’s What.”
“I love you too Momma.”
Next to the wall phone, hanging on the same wall as the yellow checked wallpaper, is a framed cross stitched handwork sampler. In her stitches it declares ‘Good Cooks Never Lack Friends’.
The light streaming into the room is interrupted, flickering. Clouds move across the sun’s path. I look to the sliding doors. The doors lead out to the front patio with a small picnic table and just on the other side of the patio is the ornamental peach tree that she planted with my father so many years ago.
Still today, I find one of the best things about memories and Sunday’s soup is you can fill yourself up with their loving goodness and warmth again on Monday.
Momma & Daddy With Tree They Planted-Springhouse Ct
“A Mother is Always The Beginning. She is How Things Begin.” -unknown
“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.”
-John Muir
Stopping In A Desert Garden
I found you hidden in this place. A garden spot. This garden in the desert. Thirsty and dry. The desert attracts people. Draws people.
I’ve always felt a power in the desert. It’s sun charging everything with its brilliance and warmth. It naturally conserves its resources and quenches its thirst at night. It fills me with joy.
Brad said the desert is boring and only brown, but the colors of the desert do go beyond brown. Beyond the tones of umber and chestnut. There are greens. Greens in the colors of spring grasses and dried sages. The purples sometimes will stretch themselves to bloom in blue. The dead heads of blooms will fade from dirty white to a luminous shade of wheat grass. A speck of yellow always jumps from gold when lit by the sun. Rarer hues of crimson and apricot offer their faces in the smallest of weeds. A silver twinkles when moonlight plays in the desert dirt.
The beauty of a garden offers comfort, it whispers softly, gently.
Suzanne painted it once. The desert. She called it the Colors of Love. She used the same artist’s palette as in the desert here.
I’ll meet you in the desert garden at the end of this day and we will drink awhile. Sleep awhile. Tomorrow, after coffee we will recharge in its sun and then we will continue our way home. Safe Journey.
“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” -Lao Tzu
“There is nothing so American as our national parks…. The fundamental idea behind the parks…is that the country belongs to the people, that it is in process of making for the enrichment of the lives of all of us.”- FDR
“What a country chooses to save is what a country chooses to say about itself.”- Mollie Beattie
“Between every two pine trees there is a door leading to a new way of life…Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine into trees.”- John Muir
“This will all make sense when I am older.” – Olaf, Frozen 2
Gigi’s New Christmas Stocking A Handcrafted Treasure by LaLa
Christmas morning plus four days, the house is quiet again. Still and quiet but I’m missing the kids, the commotion, the hugs, the laughter, and yes, even the squeals and screams.
I’m awake early, looking for something for breakfast. Too many sweets, too many foods, indifferent, undecided. Conflicted, I open the freezer.
Oh No!, Wait! Oh What? Oh My!!! Magic!? Could it be?
There! There-look…in the freezer! Tucked in the front corner!
There on top of the frozen sausages and next to the frozen pancakes….it’s right out of Disney’s Frozen.
I believe…Yes! It is. It’s Anna!
Naturally, on occasion I’ve found Mickey Mouse hiding under the sofa or Donald Duck under the recliner … but this, Anna in the freezer? This is Pure Magic!
Breakfast with Anna! Thank You to the GGK’s for this wonderful after Christmas Breakfast Surprise! It is so Great & It is so Grand being YOUR Gigi!
“When you’re older absolutely everything makes sense.” –Olaf, Frozen 2
“It is astonishing, really, how many thoroughly mature, well-adjusted grown-ups harbor a teddy bear ― which is perhaps why they are thoroughly mature and well-adjusted.” ― Joseph Lempa
Theodor Bayer, ein Imker, pictured at local bicycle shop.
Theodor Bayer, pictured above, harbors in a village in North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany. His apiary is near the river Rur in a village between Aachen and Cologne. Theodor has a large domestic customer base and serves much of Europe as well.
Wellington Bere, pictured below, is harboring in northeast Texas where he is a honey farmer with an extensive apiary serving customers both domestically and internationally.
Theodor & Wellington met at a honey trade fair in Germany many years ago. Now they plan their annual business jamborees to the many German bakeries that purchase their honey in bulk for specialty baking. These honig baked bites include the most delectable Bienenstich Kuchen-or Bee Sting Cake, Honigkuchen, Deutsche Honig Plätzchen, and Lebkuchen.
Every year, another jamboree follows the trade fair!
These jamborees always provide full bellies and the enjoyment of the company of old and new customers.
Wellington Bere, Beekeeper, pictured at home
“The world of the teddy bear is an innocent one, a world that gives delight and hurts not, a world that appeals to all generations and all nationalities”- unknown
“There is no language like the Irish for soothing and quieting.”
John Millington Synge
Ardmore, County Waterford, Ireland
The winding roads south from Cashel lead to the southern shores of County Waterford.
In County Waterford, sitting on a bay of the Celtic Sea, is the small historic village of Ardmore. Exploring this 5th century village by the sea is a picture-perfect stopping point on an Ireland road trip. Once a fishing village and now a seaside resort the population swells in the summer but you can enjoy quieter times and lovely weather in late September.
Ardmore is thought to be the oldest Christian settlement in Ireland, St Declan came to this area, from Wales, some years before the arrival of St Patrick to Ireland, and much of St Declan’s story lives here.
Ardmore – 12th Century Round Tower
The old monastery site sits just up Tower Hill Road. Overlooking the village and the bay, its 12th century round tower is a short walk up from the village. On the site are remains of Ardmore cathedral dating from the 12th and 13th centuries. The old cathedral walls have much of the intricate carvings still intact and clearly depict familiar religious scenes of Adam and Eve in the Garden and scenes of the Judgment of Solomon. The small 8th century oratory at the site is said to hold the remains of St Declan. The cathedral also contains two Ogham stones.
St Declan’s Monastic Site -St Declan’s Oratory & Ardmore Cathedral
After visiting the ruins, a walk down the lanes to the shore is the perfect afternoon out of the car. Enjoy the quiet streets of this beautiful village. On this short walk to the beach stop at the local food-store & deli and purchase a picnic lunch. Meat pasties are a traditional favorite and a tasty lunch!
Near the beach areas, you may glimpse young seafarers as they load up in their kayaks and head out on the calm and nearly smooth sea. Enjoy your picnic on a sea facing bench at the shore. Sit here, relax and take in the shimmering beauty of the Celtic Sea.
After lunch, continue your beach stroll westward and find St Declan’s Stone, a natural rock feature on the beach. The stone is believed to have carried the Golden Heavenly Bell belonging to St Declan across the waters from Wales to this site. Declan finding the bell and with his prayers answered, founded his church on the great heights of this area. The Great Height, Aird Mhór.
You will find friendly locals and many quiet reflective spaces in Ardmore, enough that like the ebb and flow of the sea, you will always want to come back.
Further exploration in Ardmore:
From the main street of town continue up Cliff Road to the site of St Declan’s well.
Stroll along the cliff walk and enjoy the breezes and the salty air.
There are informational tourist & cultural signs located beachfront outlining the history of Ardmore.
Ardmore- On The Beach
“May the road rise up to meet you.”- Irish Proverb
“Oliver’s pillow was smoothed by gentle hands that night; and loveliness and virtue watched him as he slept.”‘Oliver Twist’- Charles Dickens
Half Moon Street & at the end of the road Curzon Street, Mayfair, London, England, UK Photo: Alamy M1C597
Life sometimes offers a setting in time where the energy of a moment reveals the spirit of a place and that specific point in time becomes a souvenir of the heart.
5:30 AM … Of a morning, Wednesday-November 22nd:
27-41 Half Moon St – Mayfair, London, W1
In the stillness of the morning’s early hours a quietness exists in this little street. The weather is still mild enough to sleep with an open window. I love the crispness of London’s city air this time of year.
Lying in bed, I’m awakened by the sound of whistling outside. The notes echo off the Georgian buildings…the song, a tune…strong, upbeat, heartfelt, sweet. I realize it’s from the musical I attended a few nights ago.
~Consider Yourself- from ‘Oliver!’
The show number rings out from Piccadilly Street to the south, then travels up Half Moon Street moving closer to my window…jaunty. Notes mirrored. Echo answering echo.
~What•ever we’ve got we share!
I can hear his steps now, the sound… a strong and lively stride as heels hit the street – heel-and-toe striking the walkway. Rhythmic. His pace is in time.
~Con•sid •er Your•self One of the Fam•i•ly !
I stay in bed. It seems like a dream. I want to peek out the window. But no, I stay hidden. My imagination builds a scene as beautiful as a scene from the musical. I envision the shadows of his flowing movement as he meets each street lamp.
~Con•sid•er Your•self at Home!
Only a few minutes have elapsed since the first note called out. The whistler’s melody reverberates in this once bohemian street of London. Moving north on Half Moon Street his steps begin fading as he rounds the corner at Curzon Street. The whistler’s final notes are clear.
“Imprinted in our hearts is the exact moment we fell in love with the beach.” Judith Frenette
Daddy In The Sand – Summer 1959
Count the waves…’
It was the summer before my 5th birthday the first time I came to the beach in Gulf Shores, AL . Those were the days before condominiums. The cottages we stayed in were at HWY 59 and Ft Morgan Rd., I remember them as Calloway Cottages. Today the cottages are gone and now a shopping center stands there.
The trees I played under are still there, standing in a grove near the highways. This playground of trees is where I first discovered the bother of sand spurs sticking in your feet, and the challenges of removing and disposing of them! This welcoming green area is now a part of the 5.6 mile Ft Morgan Rd Trail, a biking and walking trail that runs through the trees on the north side of Ft Morgan Rd.
In later years we would stay just a few blocks from the beach at cabins called ‘The Sand Dollar’
‘The waves hug your feet…’
Step in. The first stop is the beach. The main public beach had few distractions from nature. At the beach there was only the A&W root beer stand and a former, and perhaps the original, version of ‘The Hangout’. What it did have was the rolling gulf and the largest sand box I had ever seen. Prior to this trip I had only been to the lake and the river so the only thing I was missing across that gulf- where are the trees on the other side of the water?
‘Savor the delicate taste of fresh seafood…’
Tradition became the first place to go was a morning on the beach and then to the cottage for unpacking. Next up was the fish market, fresh shrimp and crab for a hot seafood casserole my mother enjoyed making. I liked going there, I thought the smell of fresh fish both strange and wonderful. Was that Calloway fish market?
‘The familiar feel of gritty sand …’
Sand buckets full, sand castles built and destroyed. It was time for the big hole. Digging a hole deep enough to bury my Daddy took the help of all the adults we could engage. Digging and crawling in the sand to assure he was in up to his neck in the cool and gritty sand. Someone remembers to form that set of coconuts from sand onto his chest.
‘Off the beach…’
Souvenir City was always a stop and a place to buy books about the seashore, and seashells. Buying sand dollars to take home as souvenirs. And the anticipation of watching their hermit crabs and hoping this would be the year you could buy one. Alas, never! But every trip I make I still return to see them.
‘The gulf pounding as it rolls into shore, slamming the beach and the salty taste of the gulf water…a seagull calls’
More than sixty years later I still return often. I return when I need to recharge in the sun, in the salty air, and in the sand. I return to recharge in this, the first place I called my home away from home. This place where I first fell in love with the beach. This place where I still cherish making new memorieseach year.
‘Count the waves…count the memories’
Souvenir- from Souvenir City- Gulf Shores , AL
Wishing You Salty Kisses, Sandy Hugs & Shells to Carry In Your Pockets.
