I was chatting with my friend Professor Pudgytums about things we were doing in our lives. I was creating art, traveling, and working. He was working, traveling, and picking up new hobbies.
He has done fencing, trapeze, racquetball, and a variety of other interesting activities. His latest interest is book binding. He was interested enough to share some of what he was learning.
I sent him two books I have in storage and requested he practice on them. He didn’t feel confident enough to agree, but I sent them just in case.
Then I thought about it. I have an entire library of books primarily on death and dying. I have others, but I want to learn more about a topic I’m interested in like him.
To hold a book, yes I also have a Kindle, is to feel the heft of the words, the thoughts, the desires, the emotions, and entire imagination pinned down in time by someone who didn’t give up. It’s almost holy in a way.
Wait. I have two books that I sent to someone else. Why the farts couldn’t I do that for myself? What do I need to know to do this? I asked the oracle (YouTube).
It’s involved and takes skills that are a challenge. Is it something that I can figure out and learn? I think so.
The writing for one of the books is complete and the art is being created. The second book is complete and ready to go other than formatting. Yes, I’m really going to try it. I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to love it.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
I’m sitting on the FlixBus in Caen. My cumbersome luggage is loaded under my butt. I feel a complexity of emotions.
I’m excited to see what happens next. I’ve been to Paris, so that part doesn’t feel anything but familiar. I’m not sure if that’s what I mean exactly but it’s close. After Paris, then the fun/fear/excitement/unknown begins.
Truthfully, I’m intimidated by that unknown. More so than when I first arrived. Maybe because it was a rather spontaneous choice to change everything I’d planned at the last minute. Perhaps it’s because the summation of my experience has been a working trip.
I don’t have to work. I don’t have obligations. I’m doing this for me. It feels selfish. It feels uncomfortable. It feels unsafe. But it’s also exhilarating because it’s not something I normally would do. It’s adventure and exploration. It’s new.
I’ll let you know what happens as I leave Caen and head into the rest of my life.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
The other day when I went to the grocery, I picked up some delicious things. My plan was to cook for myself, but I kept putting it off. This morning, I got ambitious.
I took out the spinach and put it in the colander and poured boiling water over it. I cut up potatoes into tiny little pieces. I chopped up an onion and put it in the pan with what was sure to be a gastronomic pleasure. I popped in some vegan butter, and tried to turn on the stove.
I was pushing buttons like it was a typewriter, and nothing happened. Nothing. I tried turning it off and turning it on again, but to no avail. I tried for a good 15 minutes to figure out how to work the stove, but no.
The stove was smarter than I and I ended up going to my favorite place for breakfast. They make better coffee than I do anyway.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.