I adore peaking into the chocolate shops in Paris.  The Spring time displays of large decorative Easter eggs, fat chocolate hens keeping their chocolate eggs warm in little baskets is beyond cute.  I love discovering every tiny detail, the colorful bows that wrap the chocolates, the tiny chocolate fish, the large chocolate bells and the butterflies that hang from strings. 

I wondered what the chocolate fish represented and soon learned that as a joke, the French children (just before April fools), stick paper fish on the backs of unsuspecting adults and then run away yelling "Poisson d'Avril".  The tagged adults graciously un-offended respond by giving the children chocolate fish. 

When I learned the significance of the chocolate bells (which are absolutely everywhere from the small grocery to the fancy chocolate shops), I knew that this would be a new tradition for our family at Easter time.

The chocolate bells which are called "cloche volants" or flying bells are an important Easter symbol for the French Catholics.

The traditional belief holds that on Good Friday, all the church bells in France miraculously fly off to the Vatican.  The bells carry all the grief of those mourning Jesus' crucifixion.  These flying bells return to their steeples on Easter morning just in time to ring for the celebration of Jesus' ressurection.

These little bundles of sweetness sit at every corner at the first sign of Spring.  They are just big enough for a child to grasp with their chubby little fingers.

The daffodil posies won't be around much longer.  Spring has sprung in Paris, the leaves are unraveling on the trees and newly planted pansies are buried in the large urns in the parks, their little faces poking out.  They are getting watered daily lately and will thrive the coming month. 

Daily life in Paris is a challenge on so many fronts.  It seems that nothing is ever complete; from billing issues to medical issues.  Everything seems to take forever to get an answer and then I am shuffled to another to begin the process all over again.  

I am a very organized person and I like having my life in order.  I feel very uneasy when there are so many "lose ends hanging". 

It is so important for me to savor those moments of peace and solitude in the midst of my somewhat chaotic life at the moment.

I did not realize when I began my blog and typed "A Year of Change" that it would be so foretelling.  This year is going to be challenging and exciting and I already see change bubbling over in Dan and I.    

I will be stretched and I will be pruned and I will come out of this experience all the richer for it.  All the stronger, all the more focused, all the more compassionate a person. 

All morning long, we enjoyed the sights and sounds of our local Catholic Parish near our apartment. 

Our windows were opened wide and the services were broadcasted outdoors because the church was overflowing with parishioners celebrating Christ.  Music was piped into our living room and the deep baratone voice of the priests filled the room.  Benches were placed in the small courtyard near the church and small branches were being sold on the corner. 

We didn't know the exact times of the services so arrived late and stood outside.  We didn't need to speak French to understand "sacrifice and resurrection" and the common language of Christ that we all share.  I was moved by the reverence and the tradition of the local people.

Mathew 21:6-11
"The disciples brought the donkey and the colt, placed their cloaks on them, and Jesus sat on them.  A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road."

"The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted.
 
Hosanna to the son of David!
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest!

When Jesus enterd Jerusalem, the whole city ws stirred and asked "Who is this?:
The crowds answered "this is Jesus, the prophet from Nazereth in Galilee".

This was one Palm Sunday that I shall never forget!

How very French to have the branch and baguette in one hand and his daughters hand (that you can't see) in the other.

I cherish my time alone.  It is Saturday morning, I am alone, strolling through our neighborhood with "les wheels" behind me.  I have the luxury of stopping and looking in store front windows at tiny espresso cups, dainty lamps, easter chocolates, and flowers.  I stop at the newstand to search through french decorating magazines, it feels like Christmas when I pick out two and purchase them.  The air is cool, the breeze is refreshing.  I stand in line for our "french fast food" we will have for lunch.  I notice the little lady in front of me with her wire basket cart and her small white poodle curled up inside, "they must do this every Saturday", I thought.  I pick up fruit and vegetables at my favorite produce stand.  I marvel at the beautiful cantaloupes stacked like a pyramid, the melons have stripes of green and their little stems still intact. 

These are the memories I want to tuck away in my heart.  It is truly the simple things in life that put a smile on my face.  Sometimes life gets so busy and I get distracted, I pass them by.  Not today.

The machine is tiny and they say it washes and dries.  The truth is that is washes, yes, but what they don't tell you is that it takes approximately 2 hours for one load of laundry.  The machine spins and turns, water gurgles, when it gets going real fast, it sounds like a jet plane is coming in for landing. 

I have found the dryer to be quite useless.  It simple spins the clothes in it's drum, spewing hot water.  I still need to hang the clothes to dry after "the dryer cycle".

So don't be surprised when you visit and you see clothes hanging from warm radiators, door handles or strewn over laundry baskets.........

I promise once I move back to the United States, to never complain of doing laundry...........I covet your large efficient washers, oh how I miss the soft fluffy towels coming out of the dryer. 

Until then, we will "try" and find the "quaintness" of hanging our laundry "out to dry".  Our balcony will surely have clothes hanging from it this summer.   

I wonder if they will remember having picnic lunches on our balcony when the weather was pleasant.  Will they remember yelling to the pedestrians below "BON JOUR", then waving frantically with wide American grins plastered on their faces? 

What memories will they carry back home with them?????  I wonder.......... 

Max and I screamed when we saw this amazing island with it's abbey at the tippy top.  The "oooo's and ahhhh's" were filling our car. 

Cars are not allowed on the island, so we parked nearby and began our journey to the top. 

Our first stop was Madame Poulard's Restaurant which has been famous for it's omelete since 1888.  The beaten eggs are cooked over an oak fire in a long-handled copper skillet.  The forthy mixture creates more of a souffle than an omelet.

We were very hungry and were excited to find a table available.  I wasn't a huge fan of the omelete (either was Max).  The restaurant is a bit of a tourist trap in my opinion.  Although lovely, I don't think I an omelete is worth 40 Euro. 

It's so nice to have such well behaved children to take to such nice restaurants...............ha.........

After lunch, we had the nourishment to climb to the top. 

Mont-St.-Michel is the most visited attraction (other than the Eiffel Tower) in France.  The steep climb up Grande Rue, is lined with 15th and 16th century houses (and let's not forget the busloads of tourists) to reach the top.  We were thankful we arrived fairly early.  The climb up was less crowded then the climb down. 

Once we reached the top, there were so many "nooks and crannys" for the kids to explore..........I think Max could have stayed here all day......

The charm and character of this island was a bit overwhelming at times.  I love the beauty, age and the history in France.   

As we drove toward the Normandy region, Dan tried to explain the significance of our destination to the kids.  I think that, at the end of the day, they understood that if not for the bravery of many, who knows what would have become of France, England, along with the world.

Once we reached Omaha Beach, it was humbling to walk these beaches where so many courageous men gave their lives for the freedoms we have today.

The kids collected seashells and buried them one by one. I asked what they were doing and Max said "we are remembering the soldiers." (I think they are understanding).

We then went to the American Normandy Museum and learned more about "The Longest Day." They played a movie with live footage of the invasion along with a few soldiers reliving that day. It was emotional to listen to and I felt so proud of these men and their patriotism and bravery. One of them said what is most important is that what they did mattered, "just saying thank you and acknowledging what we did makes it all worth it", he said. 

Our final stop, before our hotel, was the American Cemetery of Normandy. Over 9300 American men are buried in this beautiful resting place on the coast of Omaha Beach. The entire 173 acres is owned by the United States (gifted from France) and it felt like we were walking into a park as we headed down the pathway along the coast. The grass was green, the evergreen trees were lush. There were signs posted that we were to remain silent.

There was a sense that we were entering a very important enviornment.

Then, as we turned the corner, cross after cross, along with the star of David, were thrust in front of us. Our eyes welled up, lumps grew in our throats as we tried to comprehend the sheer numbers of crosses that were sprawled out before us..

It was beautiful to watch Dan wind his way through the crosses, tears streaming down his face, reading the names of each person. He has a deep love and passion for our country and his appreciation for these soldiers was evident. Touring Omaha Beach and honoring these men was a dream of his, it was a small way to show them that he appreciated what they did for America.

The birds are singing this morning, so happy to see the sun and feel the warmth.  They beckon me to wake up and explore Paris in the Springtime. 

Today I will be in class all day designed to help me maneuver through this new life of mine.  I am looking forward to learning some new things but I am not looking forward to being inside from 9am to 6pm.  I want to enjoy this bright warm day.  

I want my expat class to be changed to a cold and dreary day.  I want to hop on this bicycle, kids on their scooters behind me, and explore Paris.

When we get tired, we can stop at Laduree for tea or a cafe for lunch......or both.... 

Who wants to join us????