Carolina on my mind

On Friday, August 31, my son's twenty-fifth birthday, I flew into RDU.  As soon as we hit the ground and I turned on my phone, it was ringing.  It was my son. 

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Sitting on the plane." I answered.

"I've never been in this kind of a situation, before, but someone fell ill during the flight and we are all sitting on the plane waiting for the paramedics to attend to them."

"Well, when you walk out, I'll be sitting here, waiting."

Initially, I thought he meant sitting, waiting- in his car.

I said "you mean you are in your car?"

"No, he answered, I'm in the airport."

 

I started walking out of the airport and stopped to make certain I was headed in the  right direction.

I was. 

And, there he was.  He rose to great me and had a Starbucks coffee in each hand. 

We headed out to his car.  It was his new car.  He bought it new, but I had never seen it. 

 

We pulled into his complex and he asked me to guess which apartment was his- I said

"the one with the Obama poster?"

 

That's a good boy.

He said: "That's right. Another family for Obama- a family of two, me and my cat."

My son and his cat.

Then we headed out for a birthday lunch. 



My son and his car.

I told him I would take him where ever he wanted for a birthday lunch.  He chose Sushi Blues Cafe.

My son in his Indiana University shirt- yes, we were approached by a woman who asked
"are you from Indiana?"  She was, too.

We ate all we wanted and did not eat it all.  It was delicious.  I will go back.  I will go back!

YUM
 

When we returned to my son's apartment, he had to run out to his car for something.
This is his cat-waiting for him to return.

We got cleaned up and departed for Durham, where I spent the remainder of the weekend.  We went to my son's girlfriend's parent's house for dinner.

Sweetie Pies

My son and his girlfriend made us some kick-ass salmon- recipe found here:http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Salmon-with-Sweet-Chili-Glaze-Sugar-Snap-Peas-and-Pea-Tendrils-358190


Oh, yeah.  That's good!

It was delicious.  I want to make it, too!
We had some yummy Prosecco and toasted the birthday boy.

I've "known" my son's girlfriend's parents for some time, now.  We have emailed.  We are facebook friends.  I asked her Dad's advice when I bought my new bicycle.  Her mother and I have emailed a lot.  We have a lot in common.  My son told us we are "two peas in a pod."  She and I both have undergrads in English.  We both love the color red and jewelry and fiercely love our children.  I sent her a Christmas card with a line from Edna St. Vincent Millay's God's World and she loved it.  I love it, too.  As she put it in a facebook post- we both wore the Exact Same Dress to our high school prom.  I was looking at her facebook photos and saw her wearing it to a "Marry Durham" event.  It was a San Francisco Gunny Sack dress.  What are the chances of that? 
She cared for my son when he had his wisdom teeth removed.
She and her husband have taken my son into their family, for which I am extremely grateful.

Two peas.

I stayed with my friend from Durham- my friend that my daughter is named for.  My friend that claims me and my children as family.  My friend who planned the Paris trip with my daughter and then had the porch-swing-ankle-crushing -accident which prevented her from going to Paris with us.
On Saturday (9/1), we headed out to the Durham Farmer's Market sporting our matching shirts that I bought for  us at the Monoprix in Paris.  En Francais:  Monoprix

BFFs since age 17. I love this woman.

People were asking us "did you plan to wear the same shirt?"  Well, yes, we did.  I kept telling people "we are 53 and don't care." 
There is such freedom in getting "older."

Food trucks are big in North Carolina.  Food trucks are few and far between, here in Indiana.  This is a college town and we have two.  'Count em, two. 
In the Triangle, they seem to be much more en vogue.  There were several at the market and on Sunday we attended a "food truck rodeo."  (I didn't have my camera with me so I don't have photos.)

My son's girlfriend's brother, my son, my son's girlfriend.
(Son's girlfriend sporting the IU shorts I took to her.)

Me and my son, my son, my son at the market.

At the market we happened upon a woman who was doing Henna tattoos for $5.  I had always wanted to do this.  My friend's daughter wanted to do this- so she and I took the plunge.

Iz gets henna.
(Wearing IU t-shirt I took to her.)

The woman put the henna on from a squeeze tube.  Then she asked your favorite colors and "set" the henna with glitter, much the same way as a woman might "set" her make-up with powder.

I've been volunteering with our local world music festival called "Lotus," and I had a Lotus blossom put on the side of my leg.  She asked me if I wanted an "om" I didn't know the meaning of the word.  The henna woman told me it meant "the hum of the universe."

While in the Triangle I tried some beers.
Duck Rabbit Milk Stout.
I drank it at  Flying Saucer in Raleigh with my son and Broad Street Cafe in Durham with my friend.

at Broad Street Cafe, Durham NC

Saturday night brought another birthday celebration at my son's girlfriend's parent's house.  Her grandmother was turning eighty.  Her aunt's birthday was celebrated as well.  I met her grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousins.  When we sat to eat dinner, I sat next to my son.  Two tables were set.  One cousin pulled in an extra chair.  At the other table, an extra chair sat empty.  It took me a few minutes to come to the realization that I sat at the "kid's table."  It was o.k.  I just wanted to sit with my son. 
Afterward, my son and I walked to a local establishment for a beer (another Milk Stout for me) and then we were joined by my son's girlfriend and her brother.
On Sunday morning my son's girlfriend's family picked me up and we all went to my son's girlfriend's mother's church- a Catholic ceremony.  My first.  It was interesting.  Afterward, we headed back to their house for a lunch of delicious left-overs from the night before.  And then a dice game.
Then we departed for hiking.  

Trippin it in Dad's Van

It was cool and nice that we could all fit into my son's girlfriend's dad's van.

Mountain edumacation

My son's girlfriend's brother is a PhD candidate in Ecology at U of T.  I knew I would love him.  My son had already spoken highly of him.  I have a minor in Natural Resources.  While we were en route to hike, he read facts concerning topography to us.  I loved it.
We were on our way to hike the Occoneechee Mountain loop.  It is a short, yet challenging hike- in places.  Near the Eno River, which I had hiked in previous years with my friend.
While on the hike my son's girlfriend's brother and I had fun naming plants and trees.


My son and his girlfriend on the mountain.



If you push the limits, it is dangerous.  My son of course, had to get too close to the overlook, causing my stomach to do flip-flops.

Here is a photo of the "rents."

Me, my son's girlfriend's mama and daddy.
They are both sporting Bloomington t-shirts. 
 Hers is a tree town shirt and his is a local bicycle trail which Doug and I ride.

On Sunday night my friend and I went to eat at El Rodeo in Brightleaf Square.  It was windy and cooling down.  At one point my cell phone starting making a strange noise.  It was a weather alert.  We were under a tornado watch.  We quickly finished eating and high-tailed it home. 
I was wiped out from hiking and game playing and eating and all and headed to bed.

On Monday, my friend and I tried to do some of the local shops.  Much to our dismay, a few were closed.  My favorite "we're closed" sign:

North Carolina, known for tobacco.

Some of my favorite architecture

My last night in North Carolina we all went to Pop's.  It was pouring the rain but we were determined to spend a last evening all together.
My friend gave my son a t-shirt for his birthday. 

Durham It's not for everyone.
Me and my son, my son, my son.

I had a wonderful time.  I've been going to the Triangle since the late eighties.  I love it.  It was so good to see my friend and spend time with her.  I had not seen my son and his girlfriend since last November.  Too much time had passed. 
It was wonderful to meet and become real friends with my son's girlfriend's parents.
The Durham Farmer's Market is very similar to our local market here in Bloomington, IN. 
I ate, I drank.  I ate some more.  It seemed every time I turned around someone was offering me water, tea, wine, champagne, coffee.  My son said "you are in the south, this is what we do." 
I gained three pounds. 
I like the south.  I love southern accents.
I come home with a southern accent, punctuating my sentences with "darlin." 

"Y'all come back now, y'hear?"
I will.

Happy Birthday to my son, my son, my son!

This is me, with my newborn baby boy, twenty-five years ago.  This was our going home outfits.  At this point in my life- this is the most I had ever weighed.  Why can a woman look at a photo and tell you if her weight was up or down?  I can tell you what I weighed in high school, on my wedding day, in 1982 when I had my daughter, 1987 when I had my son and 1989 when I got divorced.
A couple of years ago, I weighed the most I had ever weighed. And I went to Hawaii weighing the most I ever weighed.  I look back at those photos, now and think "why didn't I lose weight before that trip?"  But you know what?  I had a smile on my face in every photo! 
Now, I weigh about twenty pounds less than I did in the photo, above. 
I digress.
Twenty five years ago my son was born.  He was only twenty-two months old when I got divorced.  He has always been protective of me.  He was influenced in a mighty way by his older sister and myself.  He has never been a man's man, which in my mind isn't a bad thing.  He was always hanging with the girls and friends with all of them.  He now says he and I are friends.  This makes me happy.
When he was a little boy, he dove into life.  It didn't matter if he could swim- he would jump into the swimming pool.  The first time he saw the ocean at fifteen months, he toddled out to the water's edge and applauded.  He was joyous. 
He was my teddy bear.  He would come and get in bed with me at night and I wouldn't even know he was there.  But he was a cuddler. 
Two years ago he graduated from college, saved his money and moved to North Carolina.  He wanted to get a job as a teller to get his foot in the door.  It was a tough time for him.  He might have gotten another job, but he held out for a teller position.  And, got a teller position.  Since then, he has received a promotion.  He has a new apartment that I haven't seen.  He works at a new branch that I haven't seen.  A mama has to be able to picture her child where they live and work.  This mama has to. 
So at 3:30 a.m. we will get up and go to the airport. I will arrive in the Triangle  at 10:30 a.m. and take my son to lunch to celebrate his birthday.  Then tomorrow evening we will all go to his girlfriend's parent's house for dinner.  Thanks to social media, I feel as if I know her parents.  We are facebook friends and email.  My son says her mother and I are "two peas in a pod." I can't wait for my cyber friends to be real friends.
My son is a good man.  A straight-shooter.  He has a kind, caring heart and a great sense of humor.  He is intelligent and responsible.  His financial wizardry is natural.  (He gets that from his Dad.  I have a degree in English- that side of my brain doesn't work.)
The days will sift through our fingers like grains of sand. 
Happy Birthday, my son, my son, my son!

Paris: Parting shots

This will be my final Paris post and then we will be on to my otherwise exciting life.   When I went to Paris with my daughter, her wife and my granddaughter- Little Bee, I was just along for the ride.  Oh, I had my list of things to see (and I got to see every one of them) but I was just thrilled to the core just to be going to Paris.

I was thrilled with the statues and art work and history and architechture.  The following two shots were taken in a park near La Tour Eiffel. 

Sometimes I took photos with my blog in mind.  Things I wanted to share with you such as this beautiful knocker on a blue door.

 And this gorgeous red door.

There were several things we wanted to do once we got there- and the following remain on my list for next time:
Ride the open air tour bus:

Take the water bus on the Seine:
You can even buy a pass and hop on and off...

Ride a Parisian bicycle:
These were all over and you slide your card and take a bicycle.  I wanted to but just never got to do this.

Next time I will go to Musee du Louvre and actually go in.  I went by myself and the lines were horrible.  I settled for walking about on the grounds, taking photographs.  For me, I was very adventurous just to get in a taxi and go over by myself.
This was the night that Baby Bee fell sick and her moms ended up taking her to the emergency room.  (Which was very scary.) (She was fine- just a virus but ran a fever of 104.)

On my list for next time:  eat more, drink more, sit at outdoor cafes and take even more photographs.
We did eat at the wonderful Italian restaurant pictured below, Amici Miei.  We had pizza and it was to die for.

I am going back.
You see, one of the things I never shared with you was that my friend who I've been friends with since we were seventeen and my daughter planned this trip for me.  They started planning this trip in 2007.  Last Fall my daughter called my friend (whom my daughter is named for) and said "let's do it."  Tickets were purchased last October.  My friend and her daughter met us on the east coast and we all had a wonderful visit together and all the while, she and my daughter were whispering together and plotting.  I had no idea.  Then my daughter gave me my ticket in December for Christmas.  My friend was thrilled for me.  More than I knew because she had a ticket, too.  She was so involved in my plans for the trip, my packing, my getting my passport.  I thought she was just being my friend as she always is.  But she was going along with us. We had adjoining hotel rooms- one for she and I and one for the moms and Baby Bee.
Then two and a half weeks before we were to depart- my friend's neighbor asked her to come by and baby-sit for her children for less than an hour- just to be there from when the sitter left until the grandparents could get there.  "No problem," my freind told them.  She and her daughter went to their house straight away after work.  My friend was still in her work clothes- brief case and purse sat on the porch.  She sat down on the porch swing and the swing came out of the ceiling and fell on her left leg, breaking her leg in four places and crushing her ankle.
An abulance took her to Duke Medical.  She kept telling them to get a cast on her leg because she was going to Paris in two and a half weeks.  Finally, a doctor told her "Darlin, you aren't going to Paris- you are going to surgery." 
This happened on a Friday evening.
The next Tuesday, my daughter called and said "she really did break her leg."
"Yes, she did and it is awful."  I answered.
My daughter said "at first I thought it was a joke- a part of the plan."
"Plan?" I said "I don't understand.  What plan?  I don't know what you are talking about."
"I have to tell you something," my daughter said quietly "she was going with us."
The silence that followed was me, sobbing so hard I could barely get my breath.
I called Doug and cried and told him.
He said "wait a minute, you are still going with your daughter and daughter-in-law and the baby, right?"  "Yes," I wailed, but she isn't going.
For quite some time, I was depressed and despondent. 
Doug begged me to blog about it.
When I am sad or upset, I usually shut down. 
So I am going back.
With her.
And we will do Paris and Spain or Italy.
For now she is doing physical therapy and hasn't returned to work.
We've been on the phone a lot.

For me, this trip was a dream come true.  Now I need to find a new dream!
This parting shot is possibly my favorite photo:

For another American in Paris account (another Hoosier in Paris) go over and visit Jen at The Cottage Nest.  (She visited Paris and London.)

Paris Fashion

I was excited to see what they would be wearing in Paris.  I was concerned about what I would be wearing in Paris.  I did a lot of research on the Internet before we went.  I was a tourist, and in the end didn't care if I looked like a tourist.  I read and heard that Parisians only wore black shoes and I opted to wear pink Adidas tennis shoes and I bought a comfy pair of black Clark's sandals.  I was only going to wear black slacks and in the end opted to also take along a pair of jeans.  I was carrying a Pac-Safe purse, which did make me feel a little secure, but I wondered if that screamed tourist as well.

Oh well.  I was a tourist. 

It is interesting what I saw on the Internet before I left and what I saw when we were in Paris.  In person, I saw a lot of black.  Nearly exclusively black.  Black boots, dark navy snug fitting jeans.  A lot of scarves.  A lot of man-purses.  Nearly every man carried a satchel.  It is my opinion that everyone fusses about Paris fashion because it is Paris.  To me, it didn't seem much different than Chicago or New York or any other large U.S. city. 

The only clothing I purchased was a French Football Federation shirt for Doug.  Made by Adidas.  And I bought myself a pink zip up the front hoodie emblazoned with Paris, France across the chest.  I haven't even worn it, yet.  I didn't purchase one scarf.  Didn't buy any jewelry. 
But it sure was fun to look. 
Because you know- I was in Paris. 

My triumph at L'Arc de Triomphe

When people ask what my favorite part of my trip to Paris was, I tell them climbing to the top of L'Arc de Triomphe.  And it wasn't the actual climb, it was being on top of L'Arc and the magnificent view and the experience, itself.  My daughter was great on the trip to encourage me to do whatever I wanted to do.  As we approached L'Arc, I exclaimed "there are people on top!"  My daughter asked if I was going to to to the top and I said "oh, no."  There was (of course,) a line.  I think it was ten euros to purchase a ticket to climb.  After a bit, I decided I was going to to to the top and it was an excellent decision.  I climbed to the top tout seul.  (All alone).  It was, in my opinion, an outstanding evening, weather-wise.  It was drizzly and dark, lots of dark clouds.  I love weather like that.  It suited me very well.

Not an ounce of L'Arc is spared of detail and sculpture.  It is quite beautiful.  The four main sculptures are at the base, one to each side and very elaborate and nearly terrifying.  I walked about taking photos and at the top snapped photos looking up several of the twelve avenues that meet with L'Arc in the center. 

Le Depart de 1792- La Marseillaise

Look closely- you can see people on top.

Our taxi dropped us off at L'Arc on the right hand side of the street- across from L'Arc.  Initially, we thought "how do we get over there?"  We have a baby in a stroller.  The traffic is the usual Parisian crazy traffic, seemingly more so to me at this point because there is a big circle of traffic with no lanes and everyone driving willy-nilly.  Then we saw that you take the stairs through the tunnel beneath all of the crazy traffic.  I was greatly relieved we were not going to have to race head-long into the traffic with stroller and baby in tow.

La Paix de 1815

La Resistance de 1814

Le Triomphe de 1810

Facing Le Grande Arche de la Defense (La Grande Arche)

Perspective:  La Tour Eiffel from L'Arc

Montmartre from L'Arc

The "lift" was out of order- so I climbed up and climbed down.  284 steps each way.  Might I add that I did not take a break (as did several younger than I).  Again, thankful I had dropped fifteen pounds prior to the trip and had upped my physical activity.

Looking down from the top of the spiral staircase
 (my pink kicks).

 One last look back from Avenue des Champs-Elysee.