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July 3, 2013

We’re home.  And France  surpassed all of my expectations. 


This is where we started.  Why, oh why, do we not have a boulangerie on every corner?  (That is not a rhetorical question!) 



And as a family of Merlin fans, this is where we ended. 


Truly, France provided  Camelot everywhere we went. 

The beauty was intoxicating and I was happy-drunk on it.  The natural beauty of the Normandy area overwhelmed me.  And the cultivated beauty on top of that.  I’m telling you, it was hard to stand.

The beauty was sobering as well.   Douvres-la-Delivrande, the town where we stayed, was occupied during World War II.  Bullet holes in the stone wall surrounding our property reminded us. 



We were also reminded at the town’s World War II cemetery where my family quietly scattered.   Beautiful flowers were on every grave – German and Allied. My 18-year-old son came up to me, and through emotion said, Mom, they were my age. When I bumped into my cousin, we could only talk in tears.  We were walking on sacrifice.  We knew it and felt it.

Later my cousin and I knelt by the graves.    She observed that there was not a single spent bloom.  We were seeing the result of hands that work with care and diligence.  Holy.  Holy.  Holy.

My perception, the Normans remember and live in the moment.  Sober and high on beauty. 


This note from Frankie awaited us late Monday evening.

We had a bit of a rocky re-entry…some fleas in the house…lost luggage…a visit to the ER.  But today things are resolving – a little vacuuming took care of the fleas, our lost bag (with sand from Colleville-sur-Mer) was delivered to our front door, and a plane travel-related blood clot has been ruled out.  

Life is dang full of challenges.  And life is chock-full of beauty.   And if you want un peu Camelot, the hard, heavy things can lead you to mindfulness and care and beauty of a magical sort. 

Like you, I can’t wait to see the magical things that have been happening at the barn!

Promise to share,


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