Category Archives: Human

Day Five

I went to breakfast at a place called Sandwichs and Salades. The walk there was pleasant if not a bit breezy. I got to people watch while I enjoyed my nourriture.
Their menu was filled with deliciousness (minus the poulet of course). I chose the following for breakfast:
A trois fromage panini, a bag of Bolognaise chips (not too impressed), and the “Nectar of the Gods”, a double espresso.
This is the very efficient apartment I’m staying at in Caen for the rest of September. It has everything someone could need to set up house. It’s perfect. Airbnb did me a solid by listing this place!
This is the view I get to wake up to in the morning. It’s been a tad chilly today with a nice breeze blowing through. The windows nearly go floor to ceiling.
Have you ever seen a toilet paper holder like this one?! The paper comes out a slot in the bottom (heehee, I said bottom).
My shopping retrieval system

I had a bit of difficulty finding a shopping cart when I entered the store. They keep theirs outside in the carpark in corrals like we have in the US only they have tokens like Aldi’s does to use them. There were conveyor belts that took shoppers and their carts from the ground floor (aka 0) to the first floor.

It was a bit of a confusion for me as well that there are self-scanners that a loyal customer can use to shop. It’s kind of like self-checkout only you have the dreaded cashier at the end to verify your purchased items. That’s my understanding of how it works but I could be wrong.

On the East side of the store were practical items like the grocery buggy I purchased, candles, gardening, auto repair stuff, all similar items to what you might find in a Walmart, although, everything is in French so out came my handy Google Image Translator which helped me navigate pretty easily when I remembered to use French to English. Facepalm.

They freaking sell hard liquor and wine in the grocery store! It’s all self-serve which I thought was pretty darned neat to see. There were no drunken brawls or anything. Just ordinary people selecting their beverage of choice.

I found bodywash, shampoo, a poof, and full sized toothpaste in the toiletries aisle. I found the produce section and had to watch how other people were doing it before I figured it out. You take a paper sack that has a clear view window on the side, load up which you like, then take the items to a central station in the middle of the section. The clerk weighs each bag after verifying contents then puts a price sticker on it. Saves hassle at the register for checkout.

I scored a fresh baked baguette that was still warm. I picked up a few other items including “Mountain Milk” which turned out to be spoiled when I got home.

As you can see by the buggy, it’s quite full. I paid less than 100 Euros for everything. I couldn’t believe it! No sticker shock or buyer’s remorse. The prices you see on the shelf are the price you pay. No bullshit, just straight up. BTW, taxi’s are like that too.

I thought I forgot my mouse for my computer, so I set off on a walk to a store nearby that carried the wireless critter. This entire street on the way was lined with various restaurants, bistros, bars, hair salons, and was quite busy.
On the return trip, I looked down this street and saw art coming up out of the ground. It made my heart so happy to see creativity so openly displayed.
This is where the art is.
This street is utterly charming. There are many residences and businesses co-mingling among the historic style buildings. I felt like I was walking through a history that is far more primal than where I am from and where I live.

And now for the funny story besides the fact that I found my stupid mouse hiding while I was looking for my other outlet adapter. Facepalm again.

What you’re looking at are the pieces of my French press (HA! I nearly typed oppressed!) Why is that amusing? Well, I decided to give it a go. I used my translator to read the directions and was able to successfully brew a two cup pot of satisfying coffee. When they say don’t use fine ground coffee, they aren’t lying (spits out coffee grounds).

Anyway, after I’d consumed the delectable bitterness, there was a small amount of liquid and of course the grounds in the bottom. After pondering my next action, I figured, I’d just dump them down the toilet (because I didn’t know what else to do, okay?!)

I brought the pot into the bathroom and dumped the contents AND the glass container directly into the toilet. I didn’t know it came apart! I was worried I’d cracked the jar, but I didn’t. It got a thorough hot water and soap cleaning (thrice). Now that I know, I’ll make a better plan in the future.

It’s nearly midnight here in Caen, while you’re still looking at nearly 6PM EDT. Tomorrow I get to start working for the family I came here for. I will have to navigate a bit (I know, good luck!) but I will show up precisely when I mean to, and not a minute before.

Day four continues…

After over a two hour delay and having arrived at the stop unwittingly four hours in advance, I’m on my way to Caen, Normandie, France.

It kind of looks like a very green version of Arkansas that I’ve driven through a few times.

There is a bathroom on the bus but it is full and can’t be used. The wi-fi works but doesn’t connect to the internet. 🙄

If you asked me if I’ve been upset at the ridiculous amount of delays so far on this trip, I’d have to be honest and tell you no. Each step of the way, I’ve found reasons to be joyful, comfortable in my uncertainty.

Lost? No problem. How can I solve this issue? Google maps has been a lifesaver. Language barrier? No sweat. Pull out Google translate. Uncertain of what to do for activities? Airbnb has excellent suggestions. Not sure what’s nearby to eat? UberEats was surprisingly easy to use in Paris.

Although I have questioned my navigation skills, I’m still arriving exactly when I need to be somewhere. I’m okay. This is an extraordinary experience. I’m just as glad for the bumpy bits as well as the smooth sailing.

This was the sight I got to look at for several hours while waiting for the 4:55pm bus which didn’t show up until 7:15pm.
This was looking up the street where I waited with good company.
After the bus made it to Caen, I waited for the local tram to collect me and my newfound friend.

Call me foolish, or call me an idiot, but the woman on the left is my new friend Marie France. I saw her ID, no kidding. She and I, along with several other people waited for the same bus to arrive. Each time we’d see a bus, we’d collectively get excited then collectively disappointed.

We talked about what we do for a living and what our passions are, which as you can well guess, death and dying came up. It was a great discussion. Marie bought us all water and refused to accept anything in return. When the bus arrived, we sat in our assigned seats which was sadly not near each other.

However, when we got off the bus in Caen, she asked how I was going to get where I was going. I explained about the tram and the walk from the stop to where I’m staying. She pish-poshed me and told me nonsense. She would drive me home.

Without even thinking about it, I accepted. The picture I took of her is after I told her to give me her beautiful. She laughed out loud and got bashful. She works as a greeter at the hospital in the second picture, but there is rumor they’re going to eliminate the position. She’s not worried though. She said she’ll find something else in the office environment.

Her gray car had suicide doors! She hustled about clearing the front seat for me to ride since my luggage and hers took up the back seat. I practically live in my car too. I reassured her, she was not alone.

At that moment, I thought about human trafficking and freaking A if I didn’t scare myself a bit with that, but it was all okay. She not only made sure I got where I was going and that I was able to get in. The Farside had a cartoon:

This has been me since I got here.

I got the keys, no problem. I got the code right, no problem. The door has a handle which looks like a pull, so that is what I kept doing. Marie, on the other hand, pushed the door open while I, you guessed it, FACEPALM.

She made sure I got into the first floor (second floor in America) apartment. We hugged and she left to go to her own well deserved bed.

I’m sorry I forgot to include this in the original post. It was an invaluable time with a very special person I feel fortunate to have met. She was impressive with her speaking of several languages as natural as a native born. Wherever you are, Bless you for being you, Marie France.

Day Four so far…

I took a bus/train combo according to Google maps. I arrived too late to catch the morning bus to Caen. Surprisingly the trains and the bus were clean although a bit crowded with my luggage in tow. The evening bus leaves at 4:55pm Paris time.
L’arcouest is a quiet neighborhood bar near the bus stop. The bartender didn’t speak a lick of English but I was able to order a double espresso.
This was deeply good. Served with water which I drank separately. People watching glory!

The wheel on my brand new luggage suffered the same fate as my first bag. And man do the French love their steps! I walked down two flights of about 30 steps each to access the correct train. What goes down must go up which made me lift my 50lb suitcase and my 20lb carryon up about 40 steps. Many people helped me with them which was surprising and helpful.

Traveling lesson learned, make sure you have sturdy all-terrain wheels on your luggage. You don’t need everything you think you will. Pack lighter than you think.

More to come…

Day Three

I’m having a hard time believing this is real. I’m really in Paris!

The Weekend has served me The Nectar of the Gods each day. I left them a tiny yellow duck, an Always Beautiful card and a Euro.
Each one of these locks have messages of love on them. Some of them are engraved, some are painted, others have been written on with markers. It was across the river from the Eiffel Tower. There were houseboats moored there.
One of the locks.
It’s a lot taller than I thought it would be.
The Jardin de Troubadour is filled with tourists, myself included.
A small garden had a butterfly enjoying the sunshine and flowers.
This was a sight to behold.
And finally for this part of the day, I took a stroll with a Parisian Pigeon.
Arch de le Triumph was massive. I got lost and ended up taking a taxi to the Eiffel Tower.

Navigating the public transportation has proven to be a challenge, but I found my way back to where I’m staying and most of the way to my meet-up.

The trains are clean and mostly not too crowded. The stops are lit in LEDs so you know where you are. Although I couldn’t figure out how to get on the train at first, I was helped by a tall security guard.

When I got lost, I lost trust in my navigation skills a bit, but, I got to see additional things because of my lack of knowledge. All in all, today has been a win so far.

In the Jardin le Troubadour

Day two

I can’t believe it!
The Afghan restaurant where I ate
Potato and spices served hot in fresh bread. It was served with a sour yogurt, a spicy sauce, tomatoes, cucumber, and lettuce. It was SO good!
Because of this…
This happened. 😑
My view from my room in Paris.
French “Nectar of the Gods!”
Sunrise as I saw it this morning over Paris.

The first plane was broken so they brought a second one on the 13th of September but that one got hit by lightning after most of us were boarded which blew out communications. American Airlines put us up in hotels overnight and scheduled the flight for 3pm on the 14th. We got delayed yet again by windshield issues. Finally took off around 4:15pm!

Day One

Complications happened that delayed my plans. Mechanical issues then a replacement plane followed by a lightning strike that took out communications on the new plane.

I got to stay in a nice hotel with a delicious breakfast and even better company. I ate with a young Parisian woman named Hannah who is a journalist returning to her hometown.

I’m okay with this adventure. The Dude abides.

The Joy of Water

This is the message I wrote for the Water Communion Ceremony at my Unitarian Universalist Church.

The Joy of Water

Good morning and bright blessings to you all. Today we are celebrating our shared commitment and community with the intermingling of water.

“The need for connection and community is primal, as fundamental as the need for air, water, and food.”- Dean Ornish.

The joys and sorrows of our friends and families are brought together in this significant ceremony that honors our most primal need, our fundamental need to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. Ryunosuke Satoro said “Individually, we are one drop. Together, we are an ocean.” They aren’t wrong. As we unite our vision, we flow like water, gentle and soft, yet determined to ripple into the smallest nooks and crannies of those we interact with.

As individuals we can find joy in the absolute absurdity of the flow of our lives. We can also sit in stagnant pools, forgetting our purpose, our direction. What we share today is our complex history, our integration into each other’s lives of this; our bless-ed home.

What we’ve given to each other today isn’t just water, it is a legacy promise to allow ourselves to be buoyant life preservers, the purveyors of goodwill, the people of a responsible and joyous citizenry to one another and to the “church” outside these walls.

My personal relationship with water is unique and has affected my spiritual existence since I was a young human.

I grew up in West Michigan, 35 minutes from the shores of Lake Michigan. My Gram lived much closer in Grand Haven, 10 minutes away from the lakefront on VanWagoner Road. When I was lucky enough to get to visit her, it was nearly always punctuated by a trip to the water, a long walk on the pier that stretches out from the shores to a lighthouse at the end.

I’d spend hours climbing up and over great sand dunes to overlook the water. Once I was good and worn out and maybe had a Ray’s burger (Still delicious as of a few years ago) for supper, I’d walk over to the waterfront to anxiously await the start of the Musical Fountain.

The voice would boom over the loudspeaker as a single spout of water shooting upwards lit by a white light would “talk” to the gathered crowd.

“Good evening, and welcome to the Grand Haven Musical Fountain.”

The voice would continue with the particulars of that night’s program which, as a child, I disregarded because the best was yet to come. As the music began through tinny speakers (Now since upgraded), the real show began.

Sprays of water enhanced by multi-colored lights would dance the hillside across the waterway. Fans of brightly colored sprays, tall and short straight shots into the night sky, a helix shape, swaying rotations lit in time to the music. It was exciting, beautiful, and one of my favorite childhood memories.

The harbor of Grand Haven called to me in a familiar way, as if it understood my need for connection, my sense of belonging wasn’t questioned by its shores. I was accepted unquestionably by its vastness.

When I was ten years old, I went with South Congregational Church to the shores of Lake Michigan where they had a retreat. We stayed in cabins, did activities together, sang, and spent our free time doing whatever we wanted to.

I found myself walking to the outdoor chapel that had rocks for benches, pine trees as the altar, and the edgeless view of the Great Lake. As I sat in solitude, staring out over the water, taking in the beauty of nature, I heard a voice.

It wasn’t male or female. It was outside of my body, yet, somehow, so close I thought someone had snuck up behind me. Alarmed, I looked around. I was still alone. The birds were singing, the not-so-distant waves were washing the sandy shores, and the cool breeze brushed my skin ever so lightly.

The voice said, “I am with you.”

I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t worried. It was a deeply comforting reassurance. I tried to describe it later to Rev. Richard Rowlands, but he was inadvertently both dismissive and skeptical. I didn’t tell anyone else because of that, holding onto that secret until now.

Fast forward several years in my life.

I was living in Northern Indiana at the time. I had set up the perfect bath. I had vanilla scented candles lit. I had hot water with lavender bubbles. On my boombox I had a cassette of whale songs playing.

As I relaxed in the luxurious bath, I closed my eyes and found myself drifting into what seemed like a different dimension. When I opened my eyes, I could hear the water that encompassed me. I could taste the sunlight that poured in through the window, warm and honey-like in flavor.

I eased myself up out of the water, maintaining my receptiveness and tied my bathrobe around my waist. Every bit of contact I had with the external world brought me a different level of understanding. As I stepped out my front door to witness the tree that shaded my front yard, the leaves were singing like chimes. The grass gave off a scent of satisfaction so aromatic that it deluged my nostrils with its perfume.

I heard the voice again. “I am with you.”

I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I understood things at that moment that I’d never known before then. I “got it.” I heard a language so ancient that it resonated with my spirit even today.

I heard the voice again. “I am with you.”

It didn’t last long, maybe fifteen minutes or so before I left that state. I kept that secret too, until now.

I became enthralled by nature. I felt the call of the wild. I embraced the natural world as if religion could only be found in the shells on a beach, the sandy shores of the state from which I was born or the Ponderosa Pine Forest on the Mogollon Rim with spring waters filling the streams with icy cold run-off.

I heard the trees telling stories of what they’d witnessed throughout the decades of their knowing. I felt the coalescing of my spirit with the earth where I planted my flowers and herbs. I became a devotee of Mother Earth.

I moved to Tennessee when I heard that voice again. It said, “Go now,” and showed me a picture in my mind of the exterior of the old church, I had no intention of ever setting foot inside a church as a congregant. But the voice seemed far more confident than I felt.

As each tradition of the Unitarian Universalist became revealed through my attendance, I fell into depths of pure spiritual joy. I found and cultivated relationships as deep as any I’d ever experienced.

My favorite song, written by Singer/Songwriter Peter Mayer, “Holy Now,” sings:

“When holy water was rare at best

It barely wet my fingertips.

Now I have to hold my breath

Like I’m swimmin’ in a sea of it.

It used to be a world half there,

Heaven’s second-rate hand me down.

Now I walk it with a reverent air,

‘Cause ev’rything is holy now.”

As we share our water together, there is not only a sense of unity but one of devout joy, knowing that we Are, together. Knowing that we can be filled with sustainable joy through our common communion with one another.

A smarter feller than myself once said:

“The power of water is a reminder of the power of community, and the strength that can come from working together towards a common goal. It is a symbol of life, flowing through everything and connecting us all.”

“Water flowing is a reminder to stay in harmony with nature and honor the vital role that water plays in sustaining all life on Earth. The beauty of water flowing is that it is a reminder of the power and mystery of the natural world, and our interconnectedness with it.”

See you further on up the trail. Blessed Be!

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Few Lines On Completing Forty-Seven. by Thomas Hood

When I reflect with serious sense, While years and years run on, How soon I may be summoned hence – There’s cook a-calling John. Our lives are built …

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // A Few Lines On Completing Forty-Seven. by Thomas Hood