tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55442555467884820412024-03-13T22:17:50.154-06:00The Baking GypsyThe Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-15554301516274103512018-05-18T20:35:00.000-06:002018-05-18T20:37:25.190-06:00Morocco! - part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We had a couple of days to explore the desert. The first day we were off-roading in the SUV, seeing camels roaming about, meeting nomadic Berber/Amazigh families, visiting an oasis, and climbing trees.... I just couldn't resist! We found out that there are no wild camels in the desert - all are owned and tagged. They do eat camel meat, but it is expensive and rare because the camels are more valued for tourism and transportation. The Berber people make up more than 60% of the population in Morocco and they prefer the name Amazigh - which means wild and free! No wonder I felt so at home with them :)<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Roaming camels</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A lone tree in the desert must be climbed!</td></tr>
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There were two distinct deserts: the great sand dunes of the Sarah with the red sand, and the black rock desert, which was exactly what it sounds like - rocks that looked like they've been burnt. In the desert there are oasis, which are like huge community gardens. The natural springs are diverted through irrigation channels and each family gets water for a certain amount of time each week. They grow crops for their families and to sell in the souks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Black rock desert - Sand dunes backdrop</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand Dunes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Irrigation in the oasis</td></tr>
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After exploring by car, we got to explore on camels! A two hour ride through the dunes at sunset, out to a camp to spend the night. I must admit, I was a bit apprehensive about the camel ride, as I'm not a big fan of horses, and wasn't sure how I'd do, but I LOVED it! The camels are super slow and the ride was surprisingly smooth. It really did feel like I was riding a "ship of the desert". It was a meditative, mesmerizing experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off and running, errr..... walking!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I made friends with Shooma </td></tr>
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Out at the camp we each had our own sleeping tent, which had an actual bed and carpets on the sand floor. There was a bathroom tent with flushing toilets and running water sinks. I'm still not sure how that actually worked?! The camp had solar power electricity - I learned that Morocco is leading the way in solar energy and will soon have the largest solar plant in the world. There was also a community tent where we had dinner and music. We had beautiful weather, but the winds kicked up when we got to camp, so star-gazing was pretty limited that evening. However, back at the riad, we had a magical night on the rooftop, under the stars, with a bottle of wine and local music.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping in the desert</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The camels settling down for the night</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our camel guides also provided the after-dinner music and entertainment</td></tr>
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The next morning we were up early to catch the sunrise and ride back to the riad to continue the adventures.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise in the desert</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Algeria is on the other side of the plateau on the horizon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camels are just cool!</td></tr>
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To be continued (again)....<br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-54413075553593298412018-05-18T20:33:00.000-06:002018-05-18T20:37:25.225-06:00Morocco! - part 3<div>
Leaving the Dunes behind, we got to spend some time in a small village souk (market) where they were selling livestock, spices, dates and anything else you can think of.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Spices that smelled so good</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArUfkG8WywGckgp0eOHCfHJ-pFVK2okDO8_oEjhxEpyKomMx1IC6gDzVfIn3Z5G3jEUaYNR4vLqRegoyZ2Nby4SkiLMByUdXP_02UrQI92FbPwCJgIr-5M3BDiChk_m0iFS3KLirIq1Bx/s1600/IMG_8153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArUfkG8WywGckgp0eOHCfHJ-pFVK2okDO8_oEjhxEpyKomMx1IC6gDzVfIn3Z5G3jEUaYNR4vLqRegoyZ2Nby4SkiLMByUdXP_02UrQI92FbPwCJgIr-5M3BDiChk_m0iFS3KLirIq1Bx/s320/IMG_8153.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Date paste - they use this a lot during Ramadan</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The donkey parking lot that didn't smell so good!</td></tr>
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We traveled the Road of 1000 Kasbahs, which was an ancient trade route from the Sahara into Marrakesh. The kasbahs are ancient fortified villages built from mud and straw, and some are still inhabited today.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGTL0EFNPukShcA9fA44ipJzFNbvdEo2EjCkMN4AuqlfLB4cefbi7abIAbts_4B5I806qHCBzKkfzIQSf7DbO5rorAjJrDl8hW7rOm6CVojjfw_RpGzUCuvH2Tafb-2sX4TZcRbtDgmqQX/s1600/IMG_8171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGTL0EFNPukShcA9fA44ipJzFNbvdEo2EjCkMN4AuqlfLB4cefbi7abIAbts_4B5I806qHCBzKkfzIQSf7DbO5rorAjJrDl8hW7rOm6CVojjfw_RpGzUCuvH2Tafb-2sX4TZcRbtDgmqQX/s320/IMG_8171.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many kasbahs</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-2bjvRhQK2gS7_uRAieHC3_ioOFY8jgkhC8rfsTa0r6h0n2QiEfTKBgH2zRgYpNPT9nKFPr1wD89FjC8xOCgn4Ee5uOyQP1blEuTErhMEyNGzgO1bUYws5mjTCpUJBwIz1cPJS0I0i3Q/s1600/IMG_8242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-2bjvRhQK2gS7_uRAieHC3_ioOFY8jgkhC8rfsTa0r6h0n2QiEfTKBgH2zRgYpNPT9nKFPr1wD89FjC8xOCgn4Ee5uOyQP1blEuTErhMEyNGzgO1bUYws5mjTCpUJBwIz1cPJS0I0i3Q/s320/IMG_8242.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Travel companions</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAZR0j0SiMOB4HRPKPmonDt09XIP4mCJf-o2yJsjZgOilesGXKb2ncP_KRyRPO7O8eNXOCQ0i9FA6CDAcTqy0kQK54_M-pu8XVA-k0AOPhrqUapkw4pYJMKMZi_8BPWwFsEH3H0lIFZQ0/s1600/IMG_8217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAZR0j0SiMOB4HRPKPmonDt09XIP4mCJf-o2yJsjZgOilesGXKb2ncP_KRyRPO7O8eNXOCQ0i9FA6CDAcTqy0kQK54_M-pu8XVA-k0AOPhrqUapkw4pYJMKMZi_8BPWwFsEH3H0lIFZQ0/s320/IMG_8217.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow-capped Atlas mountains in the background</td></tr>
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Our next night was spent in a hotel at the bottom of the Dades Gorge. We drove up 24 switch-backs and then got to walk down the road at sunset to get to our hotel. Evidently this road is famous - Cadillac filmed a commercial here.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Opl50tjbeHm3o0ujCJRt2GQGl1165HGLLctvdrxfbOk7XSsuX5MQ2rv3PhW_l2TOsbHm6w_bPb6OP_mWtnG5MCIXPmVObHFN1ugiVxtfYfB8C-x98DjRik42usUa2uvzLKrDRDHemZWn/s1600/IMG_8186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Opl50tjbeHm3o0ujCJRt2GQGl1165HGLLctvdrxfbOk7XSsuX5MQ2rv3PhW_l2TOsbHm6w_bPb6OP_mWtnG5MCIXPmVObHFN1ugiVxtfYfB8C-x98DjRik42usUa2uvzLKrDRDHemZWn/s320/IMG_8186.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dades Gorge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the hotels in the Dades Gorge</td></tr>
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After our serene night in the gorge, we drove through the City of Roses, through the Atlas mountains and on to Marrakesh. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making Rose Oil</td></tr>
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Marrakesh is the tourist capital of Morroco. The souks were laden with treasures - pottery, leather goods, spices, sweets, fruit, fabrics, lamps, rugs.... there was so much to take in! After dinner, we went out to the Jemma el-Fna Square to take in the nightlife. It was teaming with people and coursing with energy.... snake-charmers, trained monkeys, musicians, and juice vendors, along with henna tattoo artists and shoe-shiners.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Souk</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lH0nuftS560njl6uMXzhjSbbfyNXgxQ4zAlIwToZOTF8fDswH_e2Rf_Gj7L3LjXAjFEb5kjVwKojcgpb7_G9mrtLKjUqGG0rm2SzpUE88xWnjPVuI1ziE5PYJ4Ox0DFMQWMEmonRvIuS/s1600/IMG_8254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lH0nuftS560njl6uMXzhjSbbfyNXgxQ4zAlIwToZOTF8fDswH_e2Rf_Gj7L3LjXAjFEb5kjVwKojcgpb7_G9mrtLKjUqGG0rm2SzpUE88xWnjPVuI1ziE5PYJ4Ox0DFMQWMEmonRvIuS/s320/IMG_8254.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pottery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwWGr5pfyldkd_G4pb1WSvzA6k5m4C2S_67XIfhzA6d5pAc9_h_Wh9LnW6ogXY6bGCxS9EsrR8-cP0fPzuNoGUo5W0fdA9YBxYZcIvv9gLnlYA6rNSmpSwtA9xR5rCmb_iXKWQHgcvWla/s1600/IMG_8253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwWGr5pfyldkd_G4pb1WSvzA6k5m4C2S_67XIfhzA6d5pAc9_h_Wh9LnW6ogXY6bGCxS9EsrR8-cP0fPzuNoGUo5W0fdA9YBxYZcIvv9gLnlYA6rNSmpSwtA9xR5rCmb_iXKWQHgcvWla/s320/IMG_8253.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nuts, seeds and dried fruit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were more than 20 juice vendors all in a row</td></tr>
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We stumbled upon a beautiful rose garden just a few steps away from all of the chaos of the souk. The peace in the garden was tangible after the noise of the souk and the asymmetrical nature of this bench caught my eye - a reminder that beauty isn't predictable or balanced, that life is imperfect and messy, but that's where the real living happens.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGtR4G-lNoFoo_nADav1MdfIRpto43tSkp4PWDPmERisS6_6Yuh5COEZBY9-VD5a7QQgXVeMqgcL30V1sBVtpE4MJdQXJYZzHdzwG6H0UAAVonH8CHyoAiTLGRqTFwYN5KtXWjwHteQWp/s1600/IMG_8271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGtR4G-lNoFoo_nADav1MdfIRpto43tSkp4PWDPmERisS6_6Yuh5COEZBY9-VD5a7QQgXVeMqgcL30V1sBVtpE4MJdQXJYZzHdzwG6H0UAAVonH8CHyoAiTLGRqTFwYN5KtXWjwHteQWp/s320/IMG_8271.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We had another 4-hour train ride from Marrakesh to Casablanca before we flew out to head home. With a couple delayed flights, I had tight connections and got to run through two airports, but thankfully made all of my connections, and made it home safe and sound. It was an amazing adventure filled with so many memorable experiences. I am grateful for the awesome friends I traveled with and the new friends I made along the way. I also discovered some new food I'll be trying to replicate in my own kitchen, so stay tuned for those recipes!</div>
The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-49496997131912059212018-05-18T18:16:00.000-06:002018-05-18T19:18:16.838-06:00Morocco! - part 1I recently had an unexpected opportunity to visit Morocco with some friends, and so I jumped at the chance to spend 10 days exploring a new Country and my first visit to Africa.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtnQKaf04Bvdyv67pQinOUFFkYlCDB18mCwTOv-xrwrBHzWcBRwTYFfNfqjZ48pFfQ6Kd-D4Em-9bsx3TSTw7CtHde0LfO91uWwOLz19bPZbFeev9H5ubwCKFmHtZ985HPdfB1gYd-ayq/s1600/map+of+morocco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="513" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFtnQKaf04Bvdyv67pQinOUFFkYlCDB18mCwTOv-xrwrBHzWcBRwTYFfNfqjZ48pFfQ6Kd-D4Em-9bsx3TSTw7CtHde0LfO91uWwOLz19bPZbFeev9H5ubwCKFmHtZ985HPdfB1gYd-ayq/s320/map+of+morocco.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was a whirlwind tour that overwhelmed and delighted my senses. I flew into Casablanca (via Atlanta and Paris), then took a five-hour train ride up to Tangier to meet up with my friends who were flying in from Amsterdam. I had a few hours to explore the beach and see the Strait of Gibraltar. When my friends arrived, we took a taxi to Chefchaouen, arriving after midnight - making it a 36+ hour travel day for me!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach at Tangier</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFSb1H519ZQo7-h-BjZfUvuwml1IJZzqsei8of2HBl4Oo0N8i4orJb3lxbEJLI-dTLNXqTir-4askCWp0laFr_e2nBpFXIe2vGVcVEekng5SmiwrlWZyguh8MaUxIYgDHgBaT0hpKxkl1/s1600/IMG_7802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFSb1H519ZQo7-h-BjZfUvuwml1IJZzqsei8of2HBl4Oo0N8i4orJb3lxbEJLI-dTLNXqTir-4askCWp0laFr_e2nBpFXIe2vGVcVEekng5SmiwrlWZyguh8MaUxIYgDHgBaT0hpKxkl1/s320/IMG_7802.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chefchaouen hillside</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX4B3g_9SqQbJg_UfOksmm8fOGjfJOPQ0NYKppmaKpuQO81BHPMiebtUbO-BSnh6hxQgd8yfXAUZo9Gfif8US5pTHv708yiXn8RsrMfb2RRiMhUD2MmBIqwBWXaMId_jgpSMrnRKdtUMz/s1600/IMG_7812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSX4B3g_9SqQbJg_UfOksmm8fOGjfJOPQ0NYKppmaKpuQO81BHPMiebtUbO-BSnh6hxQgd8yfXAUZo9Gfif8US5pTHv708yiXn8RsrMfb2RRiMhUD2MmBIqwBWXaMId_jgpSMrnRKdtUMz/s320/IMG_7812.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chefchaouen street</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGdcwyjOXYzTbePrVza8Q_8WzRybulaWQrY-Se75TKUHwf_ypzzd3RZRY7Fp08za8-ucyncBvshvE5uyK5O2oqkVARG0ehqt7-mf0o_CIKRymDk4mYnDl8YandUDCt7du0yzDFhDEzeeP/s1600/IMG_7815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizGdcwyjOXYzTbePrVza8Q_8WzRybulaWQrY-Se75TKUHwf_ypzzd3RZRY7Fp08za8-ucyncBvshvE5uyK5O2oqkVARG0ehqt7-mf0o_CIKRymDk4mYnDl8YandUDCt7du0yzDFhDEzeeP/s320/IMG_7815.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chefchaouen - the Blue City</td></tr>
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We had a delicious breakfast on the rooftop of our guest house before heading out to wander the streets of Chefchaouen, known as the Blue City. Stories say the Jewish community began painting their houses blue, and soon everyone else did so too. Others say they're painted blue to keep the mosquitoes away, and still others say it's to represent the sea. Regardless of the reason, it is a strikingly beautiful little village nestled in the Rif mountains. From there we hopped on a bus for a five-hour ride to Fes where we had two days to explore. Fes has an ancient medina built of a crazy maze of winding roads that are barely wide enough for a donkey, and there were many of them! The oldest university in the world, Al Quaraouiyine, which was started by a woman can be found in Fes, and it is also well-known for its many tanneries. The leather tanning process was fascinating, and gave me a whole new appreciation for the time and skill involved in preparing leather to be used to make products. I had a hard time resisting all of the shoes, and I did come home with a new leather bag!
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_e7vlleElJPb0fbzmyUJoPEnoQLxt4SbQXZfoWK7cx6tt9LrCBI2QcjfGeo0ubZvFmchqWde_rQkeWP8kzIvuB3Q1betwxljwDm0Q7q5d55-Ny7Ghyphenhyphen-SHd2Z7-xafyz9SL_CRv2zxn2z/s1600/IMG_7834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_e7vlleElJPb0fbzmyUJoPEnoQLxt4SbQXZfoWK7cx6tt9LrCBI2QcjfGeo0ubZvFmchqWde_rQkeWP8kzIvuB3Q1betwxljwDm0Q7q5d55-Ny7Ghyphenhyphen-SHd2Z7-xafyz9SL_CRv2zxn2z/s320/IMG_7834.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Donkeys have the right-of-way</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW27V_12bkw8Ht5rLcx8dhlG9foIvi4iSW8FBKLUx5VseB5kS4cPfSDrqhsqtJ4ToMhysMbe1fwWROwe9E8fzcrAbEKn7HwdKDzA_vizHvX09bvayJwryUg0hSJO6vCxQI3joJCxZvCVbn/s1600/IMG_7842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW27V_12bkw8Ht5rLcx8dhlG9foIvi4iSW8FBKLUx5VseB5kS4cPfSDrqhsqtJ4ToMhysMbe1fwWROwe9E8fzcrAbEKn7HwdKDzA_vizHvX09bvayJwryUg0hSJO6vCxQI3joJCxZvCVbn/s320/IMG_7842.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tannery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO9SIfeW-cguAz2uwU44-ZVT0pqubRrC6t-QtLZmWfN0pYww02D53UW7W31PtL80X4eydCoxS3xgrGiXhzia0-De6JNUQpc2iVqzvQogtUfcAEgfQ2xTG57vEnS1OHS-rfpNS-BepJHNy/s1600/IMG_7844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO9SIfeW-cguAz2uwU44-ZVT0pqubRrC6t-QtLZmWfN0pYww02D53UW7W31PtL80X4eydCoxS3xgrGiXhzia0-De6JNUQpc2iVqzvQogtUfcAEgfQ2xTG57vEnS1OHS-rfpNS-BepJHNy/s320/IMG_7844.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Covered Market</td></tr>
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Our last evening in Fes, we took a taxi to the famous Blue Gate and wandered through the medina. As we were leaving, we found our way through the medina to the farmers market, then to the flea market, and finally into a courtyard filled with locals sitting around with their families watching the birds swooping as darkness fell. It was magical!<span style="background-color: white; color: #000a12; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Blue Gate in Fes</td></tr>
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Early the next morning we were picked up by our hired guide and we drove through the Atlas Mountains. There were apple orchards, olive groves, wild monkeys, date palms as far as the eye could see, and nomads roaming the hills and herding their sheep. The monkeys may be wild, but they sure aren't shy. They will take peanuts right out of your hand.... expect I wasn't too keen on getting that close, so was happy to just take pictures.<br />
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgI-L8tt1n9-rQPuNT-rdQjKxFNCL83lmJDh2krOF3fmfE63JmImOz7gwRPq4JfjjplkENq8GBl3OdzNM73FcNZmYxRF0zezQe5XZ4WsKiF7prnJOpixJonD0V9ebXZDSzH4t0QJMjYvL9/s200/IMG_7909.JPG" /> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZUesZJu5Pq-QRIRIUW4uCcx27UVoWkoK3312LTO4D57gYZygC5gKzXX92OX2ii7e6dURwsXaSMHYNTCWU6X9DRKUeTUOLrV7RK98qGaLnm9ixZmb9afijmQQXyH_yzuINBB7m8Qpp7LW/s200/IMG_7908.JPG" /> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijb7Ar6bCqXxZWFUpVNbREgK1l6d1LRpjmB6VLGcYkbQlc52sMxwKskyZBnh6WnVFvM4CcTXJArBqmMzF_sRETt3r0_xbNyg8GNKL2GtKa4ptkUHN4yXbr5Z6j3Fvo3txurEtWfn3Uk3Q3/s200/IMG_7899.JPG" /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxl7cD4slMnpE2ss2orNy0HSJAOHD7yEo7r9OD5qpLhrmO7Ch7xN1JXBn2ENIhZXgyWCbkoU-Vvqxgdi0UPri1jLtMWVra8RjiDl7cCL_paRc5nM9MGxOnjzvSlrjscOBG4pM-sXnMxv6r/s1600/IMG_7943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxl7cD4slMnpE2ss2orNy0HSJAOHD7yEo7r9OD5qpLhrmO7Ch7xN1JXBn2ENIhZXgyWCbkoU-Vvqxgdi0UPri1jLtMWVra8RjiDl7cCL_paRc5nM9MGxOnjzvSlrjscOBG4pM-sXnMxv6r/s320/IMG_7943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shepherd in the hills</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWckKvzvWVCns6Y7JnkfxVxHmVf4tspmMPi3VcLFmfD-mfmtxcPTN9lI7-3WWdEYO2mpPgtIfGHvqY6Vnd7oxHYEAWTJAXUYATeMSnUr_-0YhTcjXf6ZbAKGg-QxSHmxdUUlBlAAmPIqnp/s1600/IMG_7945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWckKvzvWVCns6Y7JnkfxVxHmVf4tspmMPi3VcLFmfD-mfmtxcPTN9lI7-3WWdEYO2mpPgtIfGHvqY6Vnd7oxHYEAWTJAXUYATeMSnUr_-0YhTcjXf6ZbAKGg-QxSHmxdUUlBlAAmPIqnp/s320/IMG_7945.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nomad dwelling </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River of Date Palms</td></tr>
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After driving through the picturesque mountains, we arrived in the desert - the pinnacle of the trip! Our riad (hotel) was a lovely place in Merzouga right at the base of the Dunes and just 20km from the Algerian border. We were able to walk out the back door into the Dunes and watch the sun set. It was beautiful and so very quiet. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbVTxRfTrcVQI9TDlRQknfJMc7KeqGP-0lVppAnyazLXhC2cGWVvxlf26xUCH77Z5qibvJJK1uLA_H8zXEpnQXTRB-oJ6b0FhH2J19x1J4Q-tu7eAM43UO874sLL3_daTNoS7kEQRuFA2/s1600/IMG_7989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpbVTxRfTrcVQI9TDlRQknfJMc7KeqGP-0lVppAnyazLXhC2cGWVvxlf26xUCH77Z5qibvJJK1uLA_H8zXEpnQXTRB-oJ6b0FhH2J19x1J4Q-tu7eAM43UO874sLL3_daTNoS7kEQRuFA2/s320/IMG_7989.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtyard view from my room</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqLFPzCDOoXSbD7tiBd-1dqSvGKP8ddZnPenZYQF7-91rWdGkL5yuEo9X6pgXB1N7Qgw1pRWBUzh5BfY33MBNbFZPGsuaVNXtl5_bmzpWLkAcdfQuEiLmtvleY10zE-ceRgjCjNIGQC8N/s1600/IMG_8008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqLFPzCDOoXSbD7tiBd-1dqSvGKP8ddZnPenZYQF7-91rWdGkL5yuEo9X6pgXB1N7Qgw1pRWBUzh5BfY33MBNbFZPGsuaVNXtl5_bmzpWLkAcdfQuEiLmtvleY10zE-ceRgjCjNIGQC8N/s320/IMG_8008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the rooftop - yep, there's a pool!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4NgeUQgOSSP9VSozUwFoY7pERbXuaKu9r8LM7K1_xCds6LdnGOwIBQlYldmLllIgOpnfOjRRA7lrfZ6rkOmAavTZ5-bk6otalTDeQ7mRAaJHPnyDoLiUfq1J3T9nxHZbgCsOdZ0LZTgv/s1600/IMG_7997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4NgeUQgOSSP9VSozUwFoY7pERbXuaKu9r8LM7K1_xCds6LdnGOwIBQlYldmLllIgOpnfOjRRA7lrfZ6rkOmAavTZ5-bk6otalTDeQ7mRAaJHPnyDoLiUfq1J3T9nxHZbgCsOdZ0LZTgv/s320/IMG_7997.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few steps away in the backyard</td></tr>
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To keep this from being ridiculously long, I'll write a second post for the second half of the trip.<br />
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To be continued...</div>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-82459678890975144112017-09-10T21:21:00.000-06:002017-09-10T21:29:14.836-06:00Back to SchoolThis week was yet another first day of school for me. As a life-long learner I've often joked that I'm going to collect a bunch of certifications rather than just one focused degree, and this week started me on the road to another new certificate!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZIlYAjPlc_17Iq7jW_tFsHAOlmbvkQBtvhFuevyvKuHY6xsafM7Oa8jAJI5JyH6IVLqThYPZlE_bN9gzgcBNsh92F2cRiBPiZ8XhNa41EO7Qz84ADnVUNBC6mFbGRuTZHVw49jjwuPq-h/s1600/First+Day+of+School.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZIlYAjPlc_17Iq7jW_tFsHAOlmbvkQBtvhFuevyvKuHY6xsafM7Oa8jAJI5JyH6IVLqThYPZlE_bN9gzgcBNsh92F2cRiBPiZ8XhNa41EO7Qz84ADnVUNBC6mFbGRuTZHVw49jjwuPq-h/s320/First+Day+of+School.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to my dear friend who insisted on capturing my first day!</td></tr>
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This is one of those occasions in life that just seemed to fall into place. Part of my trip to Paris last Spring was a time to do some reflection on the past and anticipation of what the next season of life might hold for me. As I started to pay attention to what I talked about and read about, I realized FOOD is always on my mind! Yes, I love to bake (obviously), but more than that I noticed that not only was I reading cookbooks (which I've been told isn't "normal"), but I was also reading about food systems, soil health, naturopathic treatments for various ailments, and using food to prevent and remedy illnesses, and overall holistic health. </div>
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Then, over tea one day, as I was lamenting to a friend my frustration with yet again not knowing what I wanted to do next in life, she mentioned this school that some of her colleagues were attending and suggested I may find it interesting. As you may or may not know about me, I am a researcher by nature, and so I started researching not only this <a href="http://www.ntischool.com/" target="_blank">Nutrition Therapy Institute (NTI)</a>, but also many other independent schools as well as nutrition programs at various colleges and universities. However, I kept coming back to NTI. Not only are they located here in Denver, but they have a holistic approach to nutrition that encompasses mind, body and spirit. And so, I started the enrollment process, was accepted and now have started my first class... Anatomy & Physiology! A bit intimidating, but also fascinating.</div>
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Not only does this program compliment what I was independently reading and learning, but it seems to be such a natural next step for me, both personally and professionally. I am excited about this new season and the myriad possibilities ahead! </div>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-12350717297567383362017-04-29T20:59:00.003-06:002017-09-10T21:31:09.619-06:00April in ParisI recently made a trip to France - initially because I had been feeling a little homesick and I was eager to reconnect with friends and visit the city that captured a bit of my heart. But more so, because the plane ticket was so cheap I couldn't NOT go! And, it's Paris, in April. Need I say more?!<br />
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I spent a few days back in Rambouillet, hanging out with friends and strolling down memory lane. The apartment I rented was perfectly situated down town, right next to a pastry shop. It couldn't have been a better location for me!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRTPbvdED6eu45rsOi4moK7fAX-mfiCa6a6ZcVDXJI6keAWsBNS5tFBXkIyO796YSckLIlJth0noLIZCXIiFkCG7MFXhf12jI049hXQQlCgooZil2KhtluPWtIr8u1SHqtodD3D0HEuKL/s1600/IMG_6607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMRTPbvdED6eu45rsOi4moK7fAX-mfiCa6a6ZcVDXJI6keAWsBNS5tFBXkIyO796YSckLIlJth0noLIZCXIiFkCG7MFXhf12jI049hXQQlCgooZil2KhtluPWtIr8u1SHqtodD3D0HEuKL/s320/IMG_6607.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entrance to the courtyard of my apartment is tucked under the awning of the pastry shop</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhtL7vaTlfN6jIOux-oAiRDmAZ_WM1hhxMJBRnZU4DSr2NNdpqZnS0JVeEzC5Mo5F_RmUh91bO20ywhGAxENXfIezhZ3CX535r2BqXyXUk16ftAUV6pjoYUgEaQRvGlOicLvfG8jDZikv/s1600/IMG_6613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhtL7vaTlfN6jIOux-oAiRDmAZ_WM1hhxMJBRnZU4DSr2NNdpqZnS0JVeEzC5Mo5F_RmUh91bO20ywhGAxENXfIezhZ3CX535r2BqXyXUk16ftAUV6pjoYUgEaQRvGlOicLvfG8jDZikv/s320/IMG_6613.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The courtyard behind the pastry shop - my apartment was just on the right</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpORcE7e89pb7gxVluJoMM59pmB3hD-BmsQbeIv8D4KjxX4VnSsmrciETqWNSfNfR_3T0BPCOX5WkzEr3jKgIerEWs1LX7DaQQpkQpeDfIZh-fApxNIvfVxf8N34_flBpElcVHAeQIisUI/s1600/IMG_6622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpORcE7e89pb7gxVluJoMM59pmB3hD-BmsQbeIv8D4KjxX4VnSsmrciETqWNSfNfR_3T0BPCOX5WkzEr3jKgIerEWs1LX7DaQQpkQpeDfIZh-fApxNIvfVxf8N34_flBpElcVHAeQIisUI/s320/IMG_6622.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Farmer's Market was always a favorite Saturday morning activity</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4J6e4JrlNDNtzJQ9FnSDbyr4FEDNYZbv-LPif4vnOC80oq-bL82-bG8K-zbzHd4mqWDsxlDM6v-UcZK5kgdcVjb999aPNb_dFmF8rpmAh-mNTEitsl_SVSL1BTHQgTfUZtf9jjUfVhY9i/s1600/IMG_6637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4J6e4JrlNDNtzJQ9FnSDbyr4FEDNYZbv-LPif4vnOC80oq-bL82-bG8K-zbzHd4mqWDsxlDM6v-UcZK5kgdcVjb999aPNb_dFmF8rpmAh-mNTEitsl_SVSL1BTHQgTfUZtf9jjUfVhY9i/s320/IMG_6637.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chateau at the school where I lived and worked - so many memories here</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuPjtuc5gr-6t2nOLhlBr6GChd5OtjaCv_FWJIJYynU9FuONUTa44eGEXtk9Z5dr-PpcxKUruESZOtE7X03lbAROhgjlDVAHmIJuv4GRKAwsoKyzSRt6M6w2zkrLWN_FmToklAS6CvQIt/s1600/IMG_6656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuPjtuc5gr-6t2nOLhlBr6GChd5OtjaCv_FWJIJYynU9FuONUTa44eGEXtk9Z5dr-PpcxKUruESZOtE7X03lbAROhgjlDVAHmIJuv4GRKAwsoKyzSRt6M6w2zkrLWN_FmToklAS6CvQIt/s320/IMG_6656.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A medieval laundromat!<br />
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After catching up with friends, I headed in to Paris for a week of roaming about the city on my own. This was a much needed personal retreat - a time of solitude and reflection (anonymity in a crowd can be the perfect place for this). I had researched several non-typical, non-touristy things to do, so that I would have options and some sort of destination to wander towards as I meandered through the streets. This is the way I prefer to travel and explore - having options that allow for spontaneity in the moment, depending on the weather and what I'm in the mood for. I made it to most of the places on my list, and stumbled upon some pleasant surprises along the way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmJPBoRH4HPITIvH91IcwFHx8UpIxX4x0xyAG0ZT6OhHtBzMR9-nRU8lC45J94ULFRT-lUex_3HnpCyfX02V2xy6RcY94sVOY3tixDdEm7dG4tJhpIejSCAbvC8jtFk0iih8ixtTB0Rec/s1600/IMG_6675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRmJPBoRH4HPITIvH91IcwFHx8UpIxX4x0xyAG0ZT6OhHtBzMR9-nRU8lC45J94ULFRT-lUex_3HnpCyfX02V2xy6RcY94sVOY3tixDdEm7dG4tJhpIejSCAbvC8jtFk0iih8ixtTB0Rec/s320/IMG_6675.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A perfect lunch spot with a view of Notre Dame</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxD71yji5gEstxg-LulboBGoABY0UXwlPDx0TnU4KRsCL0Nev-QwHAX56ZVswNwDaJT28E-p4yE_Dahe-MoPE2vxRng6xkb5kI7sM1SA1AQWhLlTt4AD8gy92lWnCgZEECJba8iH0PW97/s1600/IMG_6689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaxD71yji5gEstxg-LulboBGoABY0UXwlPDx0TnU4KRsCL0Nev-QwHAX56ZVswNwDaJT28E-p4yE_Dahe-MoPE2vxRng6xkb5kI7sM1SA1AQWhLlTt4AD8gy92lWnCgZEECJba8iH0PW97/s320/IMG_6689.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An unexpected view from the rooftop of the Galleries LaFayette </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysOPTp7gt1JR1O9GVO5VRB8vqD1gZuBQxEX0blGxUdXlZZs_wXOMNucMFOqasB5ZEQ00ftk2UKAHYK1Ai-w1h5IPdcd_r9bwBeBxarIZi9B4amLE3MsIFkFakKMn6dpTRz_dFMsdUxgrx/s1600/IMG_6699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysOPTp7gt1JR1O9GVO5VRB8vqD1gZuBQxEX0blGxUdXlZZs_wXOMNucMFOqasB5ZEQ00ftk2UKAHYK1Ai-w1h5IPdcd_r9bwBeBxarIZi9B4amLE3MsIFkFakKMn6dpTRz_dFMsdUxgrx/s320/IMG_6699.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some lovely street music</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canal St. Martin - the "other" river in Paris, in a quaint, artsy neighborhood</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There She is - always making an appearance at the most unexpected times</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcXWA6771gFFHA2AWy_eXCyqAXhMpLM79FwZYyK3pugcpfhnzrNiqFm-Fa8QHgCLchsEvKBPbzvE7q3_UVi4GCh4AIY1-WCH_3rRNj3SsGsKiVUphVoTxP8DJngXK99COUC5RF23peDN7/s1600/IMG_6723.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRcXWA6771gFFHA2AWy_eXCyqAXhMpLM79FwZYyK3pugcpfhnzrNiqFm-Fa8QHgCLchsEvKBPbzvE7q3_UVi4GCh4AIY1-WCH_3rRNj3SsGsKiVUphVoTxP8DJngXK99COUC5RF23peDN7/s320/IMG_6723.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The square and church near my hotel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8sFkvu5htcwIMeYbL57HnwUTUp5OPtT40xNJGEvAMENpyJ1jYibW22rymlZJdWu7kP7ER26tZR3A3XQfjo5CxrsLqL9ahNI1YdIcq2Mtg-xerO0nktpLTj4lhlUgiVrlH6v5MB1YdFee/s1600/IMG_6736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8sFkvu5htcwIMeYbL57HnwUTUp5OPtT40xNJGEvAMENpyJ1jYibW22rymlZJdWu7kP7ER26tZR3A3XQfjo5CxrsLqL9ahNI1YdIcq2Mtg-xerO0nktpLTj4lhlUgiVrlH6v5MB1YdFee/s320/IMG_6736.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le musee Cluny (the museum of the Middle Ages) was fantastic and full of surprises</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguumqlkhjUX6gaWb88dsRVU27wLRBv7HlWi2OB-pPQ8ZvovwJqbmdhWy7Sr2LbEq0vGT_vZdYxrDYbnTs4Bw3_HLFwupH8yPruEsNsWMRJIKJlbJP94pXLAhWLmLU2zDLBvbtobOErn1fJ/s1600/IMG_6738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguumqlkhjUX6gaWb88dsRVU27wLRBv7HlWi2OB-pPQ8ZvovwJqbmdhWy7Sr2LbEq0vGT_vZdYxrDYbnTs4Bw3_HLFwupH8yPruEsNsWMRJIKJlbJP94pXLAhWLmLU2zDLBvbtobOErn1fJ/s320/IMG_6738.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Jardin des Plantes (the botanic gardens) was impressive</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz175U-RKkUcdL8XJWMx3b_PFJ2Mq10krrH5tx1bFVMJkXeYyE_BDWHcQGxsUNONywQCE6kPlatlxU0hmCWXNOi_NsWjkJ4Ups36cFN8hNpMM2CR0Euw8Cx7y_6yzkUv-fyTsGOQNjZXx4/s1600/IMG_6745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz175U-RKkUcdL8XJWMx3b_PFJ2Mq10krrH5tx1bFVMJkXeYyE_BDWHcQGxsUNONywQCE6kPlatlxU0hmCWXNOi_NsWjkJ4Ups36cFN8hNpMM2CR0Euw8Cx7y_6yzkUv-fyTsGOQNjZXx4/s320/IMG_6745.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was a delightfully quiet, non-touristy church with a spectacular organ</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rodin Gardens are calm and secluded in the heart of the city</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvZV1R2H9C9DAfPU-jH5H9WL7m0mUb4U3WdS093adQL7ODg5wz5ByR2LG7ezYKU7DUelaIeh_QRnolQst6el1zMv4U_iMOvRXcPzWnYm4QOmibrTpmUA_1MIIrDJD8u_S_jcxKU_RTIha/s1600/IMG_6785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYvZV1R2H9C9DAfPU-jH5H9WL7m0mUb4U3WdS093adQL7ODg5wz5ByR2LG7ezYKU7DUelaIeh_QRnolQst6el1zMv4U_iMOvRXcPzWnYm4QOmibrTpmUA_1MIIrDJD8u_S_jcxKU_RTIha/s320/IMG_6785.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stacks of flowers at one of the oldest markets in the city</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5rTpr9UcnMz7g6waoymboq4dtUsNssg-je7D0KVun7BY2vQTZ7mSSJNpOLc5IMSp3Ic7CKr0jVWuJAYCOevtxgjwNZhy4o6ojVtKjX6fMy3C6W9RGH_WookKwAU5yXTtNXHra0EeKUo-/s1600/IMG_6833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd5rTpr9UcnMz7g6waoymboq4dtUsNssg-je7D0KVun7BY2vQTZ7mSSJNpOLc5IMSp3Ic7CKr0jVWuJAYCOevtxgjwNZhy4o6ojVtKjX6fMy3C6W9RGH_WookKwAU5yXTtNXHra0EeKUo-/s320/IMG_6833.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the beautiful Pere-Lachaisse cemetery</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdaeHTeQFBvmzRIWh_m1kOfyHad8i-8-NVDHuAf_ONJ90-e9uIwF-c9NoTgs_J6tbO7MAl2rQrdQVx5FboKltqPe-csjyum9khPvWK7jAvlzbIfWaSL4DLgzkV2vo2PVTlKn5Fy1HEV4a/s1600/IMG_6840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdaeHTeQFBvmzRIWh_m1kOfyHad8i-8-NVDHuAf_ONJ90-e9uIwF-c9NoTgs_J6tbO7MAl2rQrdQVx5FboKltqPe-csjyum9khPvWK7jAvlzbIfWaSL4DLgzkV2vo2PVTlKn5Fy1HEV4a/s320/IMG_6840.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This street performance satisfied my hopes of seeing a Jazz concert in Paris</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6SBSJAg6drvCUV2yTHPtZRyXFrpV-81FhUBDpGaggmMnttD-euHfpbIaCm74UTM1DsGZyZ9XMwvW-TaDGhm9Y2G-xUKLXRQzWVNkO1yNfzx5wuKpv7Kugo_U08GcfUdXbQRfYuHTypjU/s1600/IMG_6839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh6SBSJAg6drvCUV2yTHPtZRyXFrpV-81FhUBDpGaggmMnttD-euHfpbIaCm74UTM1DsGZyZ9XMwvW-TaDGhm9Y2G-xUKLXRQzWVNkO1yNfzx5wuKpv7Kugo_U08GcfUdXbQRfYuHTypjU/s320/IMG_6839.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One last walk along the river</td></tr>
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My time was filled with plenty of sightseeing and lots of walking, interspersed with many stops at cafes, creperies, patisseries and brasseries. I mostly survived on cheese, pastries and crepes washed down with plenty of good wine. I left with a satisfied stomach and a full heart - thankful for the time I had to see friends and reacquaint myself with the city. In so doing, it seems I reconnected with a part of myself that had gradually been muted over the past several months. A lightness and freedom has returned to lift my spirit and carry me forward into this next season of life.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXESmRzEY7yu7d8or8rjKy5Qvvc5oKO4y1sJCZQtqTxa83r4UYb7uhYqROL4CPJB9e4Bywn6Zc5VUCEvozQF0yguRebUX_Jim0M7AVL_mM13wBQIlaf_fNtL7sBVgJz34R9hSm6QIhGqp/s1600/IMG_6842+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXESmRzEY7yu7d8or8rjKy5Qvvc5oKO4y1sJCZQtqTxa83r4UYb7uhYqROL4CPJB9e4Bywn6Zc5VUCEvozQF0yguRebUX_Jim0M7AVL_mM13wBQIlaf_fNtL7sBVgJz34R9hSm6QIhGqp/s320/IMG_6842+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So long Paris. I'll return soon.</td></tr>
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-80783366935806703622017-03-29T17:29:00.000-06:002017-09-10T21:31:53.783-06:00Family WeddingsYou guys, I have not one, but THREE nieces getting married this year, and I just got home from the first wedding. This was a quick trip to SoCal for a few days to hang out with family and then to celebrate, and celebrate we did!<br />
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The weather was predicted to be cold and rainy most of my time there, but the sun made a few appearances and I did my best to take full advantage of it. My brother's back yard, with the lake and the fountain, is one of my favorite places to sit and ponder life.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuq1dHytsZ74Ce0ilPoBKB_XozqKX3i9d9v0Pa4Z9PnaBApd6Zz9CmsbgVost7tk41QaDUXbtcrERhsN49N9WZS6PcoZCw1S1GxyYSVrep4G1LMGApebfW1hbfVQXdiNCjbqyuDKEzXJ6/s1600/IMG_6500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuq1dHytsZ74Ce0ilPoBKB_XozqKX3i9d9v0Pa4Z9PnaBApd6Zz9CmsbgVost7tk41QaDUXbtcrERhsN49N9WZS6PcoZCw1S1GxyYSVrep4G1LMGApebfW1hbfVQXdiNCjbqyuDKEzXJ6/s320/IMG_6500.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back yard view</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Qb7a4vMGk76mzVqPjcBd1i4imbk_K_V3BTYoDRvv6qoe8im1d-Gc7YfvKyszReFxGI8Nc_o2VF7fw2YSV3dD0xkqwGCEC2PyEFFyU23mWziCglgdyo9In2XvVrOmknQkJ0TBXWkweMO9/s1600/IMG_6502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Qb7a4vMGk76mzVqPjcBd1i4imbk_K_V3BTYoDRvv6qoe8im1d-Gc7YfvKyszReFxGI8Nc_o2VF7fw2YSV3dD0xkqwGCEC2PyEFFyU23mWziCglgdyo9In2XvVrOmknQkJ0TBXWkweMO9/s320/IMG_6502.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boat ride with my Pops</td></tr>
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The rehearsal was a great time to catch up with family, and for the bride and groom to get some last minute advice from GPaw.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlQmwBGAaj3LofFLupXohKO7FQ5WcvaqGij4ZdwMr5kEWu_fnIXdd4_OaHSHJ5lTSEF8fYAIn4yrWD61rR-fyScMH2xQk5kP5cqXVtJ7gKx2INKiYzjpC5REYNYrYUvgUclzkxeOp6RgV/s1600/IMG_6566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlQmwBGAaj3LofFLupXohKO7FQ5WcvaqGij4ZdwMr5kEWu_fnIXdd4_OaHSHJ5lTSEF8fYAIn4yrWD61rR-fyScMH2xQk5kP5cqXVtJ7gKx2INKiYzjpC5REYNYrYUvgUclzkxeOp6RgV/s320/IMG_6566.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rehearsal family fun time<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIf_RHJ1r6MJKoCGCtGWo4VQYHd35KSDM3mOGUr0WJbJ3EZLQWrOoZp4H6n6F8P-iMQq27T_i_Qq2B352_lTmfxT1999jjEgvROAGHnBBY1MT4TILVh9Sxt3Wf7o1zE5ZkZ3KvBL0ChEr/s1600/IMG_6514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIf_RHJ1r6MJKoCGCtGWo4VQYHd35KSDM3mOGUr0WJbJ3EZLQWrOoZp4H6n6F8P-iMQq27T_i_Qq2B352_lTmfxT1999jjEgvROAGHnBBY1MT4TILVh9Sxt3Wf7o1zE5ZkZ3KvBL0ChEr/s320/IMG_6514.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last minute details</td></tr>
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In between events, I found a new hang out partner, which came as quite a surprise. For those of you who know me well, you know that I'm not typically a "baby person", but this little guy, my great nephew, melted my heart and became my best buddy. It's always hard to say goodbye to family, but especially to this little one who won't remember me next time I visit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAMtdiqg02a20C5zuTLeu7zJd-q_Hr2Pw2K-LLB7SzlTm1IuRU6XklVpt2zOj6rknSKL6r9FAT-DJ3cZcZ-zLCRQr86X5KZ-9Uqrkw-4jb24OXFVQmS49v_tDrcqzLaz6R7hnVhKyIaNy/s1600/IMG_6575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAMtdiqg02a20C5zuTLeu7zJd-q_Hr2Pw2K-LLB7SzlTm1IuRU6XklVpt2zOj6rknSKL6r9FAT-DJ3cZcZ-zLCRQr86X5KZ-9Uqrkw-4jb24OXFVQmS49v_tDrcqzLaz6R7hnVhKyIaNy/s320/IMG_6575.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Auntie with my buddy</td></tr>
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And then there was the wedding and more family fun time. GPaw officiated, and had everybody laughing and crying throughout the ceremony. Just ask him about the symbolism and significance of wedding rings and see if you don't end up in tears too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZQ-LaiVG6m9MpVWEwyc8PfAA0OznkhtZdbjtUHnP-a181pdoZD-IqtkYd8obGYHxxI4bhkDU3J2Z65foOjILhST-U2gbn-lrVAuwQdHjvphTOW-_PwgNfXwyXpKsmiAMkfGTrR4VJAlb/s1600/IMG_6525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZQ-LaiVG6m9MpVWEwyc8PfAA0OznkhtZdbjtUHnP-a181pdoZD-IqtkYd8obGYHxxI4bhkDU3J2Z65foOjILhST-U2gbn-lrVAuwQdHjvphTOW-_PwgNfXwyXpKsmiAMkfGTrR4VJAlb/s320/IMG_6525.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my Pops</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiU3MnNhGIDk0vjGol3yGmhFUgnbm8T-XJ1uim5zTYWpXhsx_kc6vEFHbYbMvy7Ui8pCI0zxqx30xGi4IvGd3xBZ7JXHBywwEwKDIYcckiql2nb5IiWB411WGpJx0qrdEuahEVBCdkrE8/s1600/IMG_6529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxiU3MnNhGIDk0vjGol3yGmhFUgnbm8T-XJ1uim5zTYWpXhsx_kc6vEFHbYbMvy7Ui8pCI0zxqx30xGi4IvGd3xBZ7JXHBywwEwKDIYcckiql2nb5IiWB411WGpJx0qrdEuahEVBCdkrE8/s320/IMG_6529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and the boys </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMW7RXTLnemVNV4iXXR7ZR6yZLRaDeTaKpSI_pD-5nZ7XMjDkRl88XGqqKeAcBgn9QJuFzPa-DqYZItR9FDBwto7tWC6y6AggUipnNPkr_yOYM1VDp0kQtHTp5_3ykXQ_cuHO35B11Exl/s1600/IMG_6543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMW7RXTLnemVNV4iXXR7ZR6yZLRaDeTaKpSI_pD-5nZ7XMjDkRl88XGqqKeAcBgn9QJuFzPa-DqYZItR9FDBwto7tWC6y6AggUipnNPkr_yOYM1VDp0kQtHTp5_3ykXQ_cuHO35B11Exl/s320/IMG_6543.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXAno9L0PykJsnJStV39QR4k3aBwiUP683zTeBO0LnAO-czacwO_NybX3hbtj11agK2ziLvR8ueO-HnO6X3AifItntl_9UYDUfDn87Zn3onZOO6xymyPegySBItE32xe7SK6C1TvR4hUq/s1600/IMG_6560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXAno9L0PykJsnJStV39QR4k3aBwiUP683zTeBO0LnAO-czacwO_NybX3hbtj11agK2ziLvR8ueO-HnO6X3AifItntl_9UYDUfDn87Zn3onZOO6xymyPegySBItE32xe7SK6C1TvR4hUq/s200/IMG_6560.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My niece Nichole</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwsXYTfZ8TDEnYFXalDdLxPRii1H9hQoDLo6gehgJP0d_9cuRN0-ouMRG6SVq_ki-3xwg6GF6suwSyPFLBJyqkuex2jsMgJCRzbMxd82eCiVqtSvB9TDNThe8IYJNYxKBDxTqNqX9UlxO/s1600/IMG_6535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwsXYTfZ8TDEnYFXalDdLxPRii1H9hQoDLo6gehgJP0d_9cuRN0-ouMRG6SVq_ki-3xwg6GF6suwSyPFLBJyqkuex2jsMgJCRzbMxd82eCiVqtSvB9TDNThe8IYJNYxKBDxTqNqX9UlxO/s200/IMG_6535.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My niece Kara</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlKWolKLfdLYfGvPmuZfFFMgumYsiF-G10ivkiBRn4H99BRGnD8K7IKVG0tDeeU9GKzMzRi5WSLM04aIPoPcdUaBEpbs9Kg0c3IBdLWFktpbuXOfKJCU9kk5AnIW0Rk8GPlw8NnZSGj9Gu/s1600/IMG_6541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlKWolKLfdLYfGvPmuZfFFMgumYsiF-G10ivkiBRn4H99BRGnD8K7IKVG0tDeeU9GKzMzRi5WSLM04aIPoPcdUaBEpbs9Kg0c3IBdLWFktpbuXOfKJCU9kk5AnIW0Rk8GPlw8NnZSGj9Gu/s200/IMG_6541.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My niece Wendy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0HRTIac41DkfOXqMmR3JMum_YnqMPNKNDgcPFQtKuBnxTzz_fBL8oTSnr8IGa7HQz4n2YuwYkhE_BdjgwCTHtHRdBDCEKT5mYpAc88i3Sq0p_eikjHVYoFxsvXAPzPkaEdU3J8W_PUZB/s1600/IMG_6552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0HRTIac41DkfOXqMmR3JMum_YnqMPNKNDgcPFQtKuBnxTzz_fBL8oTSnr8IGa7HQz4n2YuwYkhE_BdjgwCTHtHRdBDCEKT5mYpAc88i3Sq0p_eikjHVYoFxsvXAPzPkaEdU3J8W_PUZB/s320/IMG_6552.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GPaw with the ladies</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmste-Kyt2BsJM_yK-lsdoNawe1b3HzTe4IUGUf70MTjbIIZW2ldLQAr5isXdA5DABG989c0m20BMgNw3bqdo4y1FBGUK_dxuZewiK8FSWFvXXER2X8cK7bjuYHbuRtcXSfYBuiEbmEDem/s1600/IMG_6555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmste-Kyt2BsJM_yK-lsdoNawe1b3HzTe4IUGUf70MTjbIIZW2ldLQAr5isXdA5DABG989c0m20BMgNw3bqdo4y1FBGUK_dxuZewiK8FSWFvXXER2X8cK7bjuYHbuRtcXSfYBuiEbmEDem/s320/IMG_6555.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Happy Couple - Melissa & Cody</td></tr>
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I don't have a lot to say this time around, but wanted to share some pics from the trip. Deep thoughts will be coming later....<br />
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-78949855318635704882017-02-24T17:59:00.001-07:002017-02-24T18:01:46.857-07:00Red Velvet CakeI've never been a fan of red velvet cake. I'm a skeptic. What's it supposed to be? It's chocolate, but it's not. It's bright red, but it's not fruity. And everyone says that they love the cream cheese frosting but, you can put cream cheese frosting on so many other (better) things - like carrot cake or brownies or zucchini bread or pumpkin cookies, or.......anything else really. Anyway, I've just chosen to avoid it. And honestly, I'm much more of a pie and pastry kinda gal anyway.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRDHDCPl8r8_ysUtgzMfhrSwyAwFooSPKeixHCr-MsWSOps060O1BwSXsDBTWsUfnsvR7Z6_7cJa3uIDfWgyN_SscLueyijkNGjSY6AcuPhtX2Bi5DMsi996ABhTFezIGYPDyOakJKGE3/s320/IMG_5282.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some random pies I made this winter</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRDHDCPl8r8_ysUtgzMfhrSwyAwFooSPKeixHCr-MsWSOps060O1BwSXsDBTWsUfnsvR7Z6_7cJa3uIDfWgyN_SscLueyijkNGjSY6AcuPhtX2Bi5DMsi996ABhTFezIGYPDyOakJKGE3/s1600/IMG_5282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCM1tJ7meR9-dXZX7PElGOyyMKkS71D_CNAkJf9dSi7XhHXMzthUjlzAmzu7cCf-_0E9VFcz82jtSvKdZ4AbEdUHskonLvsldDXtk9mD-yKTzxp2Ua5cnUQBmkPcu51qlrfRM9yQYLgmH/s1600/IMG_6331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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However, as fate would have it, I was recently asked to bake a red velvet cake for an office birthday celebration, which sent me on the hunt for a creative alternative. After much searching, trying to warm up to the idea of red velvet, I found this stunning recipe for <a href="http://www.houseandgarden.co.uk/recipes/desserts-cakes/red-wine-velvet-cake-smitten-kitchen" target="_blank">Red Wine Velvet Cake</a> from one of my favorite food bloggers, <a class="g-profile" href="https://plus.google.com/105197443534058371745" target="_blank">+smitten kitchen</a>. No red dye, a simple ingredient list, and, half a bottle of red wine! How could I go wrong?!</div>
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I didn't get any pictures of the process because, not only was my kitchen covered in splatters of red wine, cocoa powder and icing sugar, but my hands were too, which is NOT conducive to picture taking. So, you'll just have to use your imagination. However, I did capture the finished product. Each layer came out of the pan beautifully, and it went together surprisingly easily. I like the rustic, open sides, but was trying to make it a little fancy, only to realize that I should stick to pie crust and not cake decorating.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN2LS5vaNmgsEPLXwUaXp3HPvNdtmIJ-Fl2onBZZRL33WFLcz0Uhy9p-PoL4EYSbENFD-xLTTw8UJYaEfdVhfdGphD1LVN2G46tt4mrijaEIdBng_VO-pkeD5aEQg_Y_mLEc6wHeCJ3NV/s1600/IMG_6441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN2LS5vaNmgsEPLXwUaXp3HPvNdtmIJ-Fl2onBZZRL33WFLcz0Uhy9p-PoL4EYSbENFD-xLTTw8UJYaEfdVhfdGphD1LVN2G46tt4mrijaEIdBng_VO-pkeD5aEQg_Y_mLEc6wHeCJ3NV/s320/IMG_6441.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Wine Velvet Cake</td></tr>
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As you can see, the half bottle of red wine sadly, did NOT make it a red cake. Either my cocoa powder was too dark, or my wine was too sweet?! Regardless, it tastes exactly like you would imagine a rich, chocolaty, red wine soaked cake, with whipped mascarpone frosting should taste, and it was a big hit in the office!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-TNnw9NRDYY3CAJp8IVd0KsKLUm9OVsYsxzOC6bDQIfRGgId0dUPEY2UIUgK3DqyRwu5N6XvTlQY02JQgum0or0Ae674kRWCctTiJ_6V6BuueUF15Tc17oRhEH-WJa5vsPzg3FBm_vBJ/s1600/IMG_6444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-TNnw9NRDYY3CAJp8IVd0KsKLUm9OVsYsxzOC6bDQIfRGgId0dUPEY2UIUgK3DqyRwu5N6XvTlQY02JQgum0or0Ae674kRWCctTiJ_6V6BuueUF15Tc17oRhEH-WJa5vsPzg3FBm_vBJ/s320/IMG_6444.JPG" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cake stands are a beautiful luxury</td></tr>
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Also, check out this fun cake stand. A friend of mine knows a lady who makes these from reclaimed dishes she finds at thrift stores. She uses sundae glasses or vases or candlestick holders, and mounts them to platters. I was delighted to receive this as a gift.<br />
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While I'm still not a converted red velvet cake fan, I'm glad I gave this a try, and may even make it again sometime!<br />
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-6002651537091484562016-11-02T21:12:00.000-06:002016-11-02T22:05:13.155-06:00A Year in ReviewIt's hard to believe I've now been back in Denver for an entire year! In some ways it seems like I never left, except that many of my stories sound pretentious because they begin with "When I lived in France...."<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9XddLP5yazl9X5gWwiRFyDiVF7-Lozz-sbOrniTAIH3d85FIJymPv6J21tRTahkIXmaeHLeoDv5Eb5MPCUN26dGio9Je06r1ccMmt7XJD6j3EO5_9etjYSh_HNsTkeXEyTS27mFA9aqY/s1600/IMG_0881.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-9XddLP5yazl9X5gWwiRFyDiVF7-Lozz-sbOrniTAIH3d85FIJymPv6J21tRTahkIXmaeHLeoDv5Eb5MPCUN26dGio9Je06r1ccMmt7XJD6j3EO5_9etjYSh_HNsTkeXEyTS27mFA9aqY/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first view of the Eiffel Tower</td></tr>
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When I made the decision to go to France, I thought of it as a sabbatical year - a year away to breathe deeply, immerse myself in a new culture, learn a new language and take some intentional time to focus on my spiritual journey as well. However, the reality was so much different than my expectations - while my year in France was a fabulous experience, it was definitely not restful or introvert-friendly!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2H9UCxc6kSJRxCiKKEPk8FifbgBl3BKBq7x937y3RzyKbCzcQP3amgQD4j4zqfA1ZrAzWgeUZdwtkxgBVZcdSa3TBcuhyphenhyphenE0WWTd8V3G7X-YDS0437AZzahIxclBpmUesncGUigOuFtsa/s1600/IMG_4054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2H9UCxc6kSJRxCiKKEPk8FifbgBl3BKBq7x937y3RzyKbCzcQP3amgQD4j4zqfA1ZrAzWgeUZdwtkxgBVZcdSa3TBcuhyphenhyphenE0WWTd8V3G7X-YDS0437AZzahIxclBpmUesncGUigOuFtsa/s320/IMG_4054.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chaos of Montparnasse train station where I started and ended every trip into Paris</td></tr>
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Now I've been home for a year, and as I reflect on this year of transition, I see that, just maybe, THIS has been my sabbatical year - my year of rest. I have been truly blessed by so many wonderful friends who have companioned me along this journey - providing safe places and offering me lots of space to process (one of my favorite past-times) and to figure out who I am now. This year back in Denver I've been able to breathe deeply, immerse myself in my neighborhood culture, develop my new language skills, and continue on my spiritual journey.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx91Hvhjsx4CByn0WEpUOkfBFu-1c_d11pICg2fHEiRdkCze6N4Ck-1GHUuEXL9OCHWkd-hA742AbSt-rGvRgUMwEppV9CGQCTyNnxc81js5CBxzNiFO0MAzNznkBMO9CVSitscVOGmzlU/s1600/IMG_5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx91Hvhjsx4CByn0WEpUOkfBFu-1c_d11pICg2fHEiRdkCze6N4Ck-1GHUuEXL9OCHWkd-hA742AbSt-rGvRgUMwEppV9CGQCTyNnxc81js5CBxzNiFO0MAzNznkBMO9CVSitscVOGmzlU/s320/IMG_5133.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherry Creek Bike Trail downtown Denver</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmGqYXntgRsNrLHILiq1ldiaiuBh7KvI0dBB0pmjxA5BpWFrxMEk6pYH2j92el2Z6nYizx6kUKldmUuJdiBAENMDcfXTCPj3QK1aCqsBw1KGw-q0csl00ySznaeLC484T2IEUxir6CEIj/s1600/IMG_5171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmGqYXntgRsNrLHILiq1ldiaiuBh7KvI0dBB0pmjxA5BpWFrxMEk6pYH2j92el2Z6nYizx6kUKldmUuJdiBAENMDcfXTCPj3QK1aCqsBw1KGw-q0csl00ySznaeLC484T2IEUxir6CEIj/s320/IMG_5171.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">City of Golden - one of my favorite spots for contemplating life</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqkSZAWvIt3kbCPdFk52h3JI4hmhjzRrtHqnI3DyykMyzYvhVBpOBstq6atD_2-QhNOFfYRQliKbrfxZhmmI9xwim8bBE8duJF1WWab_3NQXk4OjuqIn3vVzg1ySjafXMJxz164q6njnO/s1600/IMG_5231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqkSZAWvIt3kbCPdFk52h3JI4hmhjzRrtHqnI3DyykMyzYvhVBpOBstq6atD_2-QhNOFfYRQliKbrfxZhmmI9xwim8bBE8duJF1WWab_3NQXk4OjuqIn3vVzg1ySjafXMJxz164q6njnO/s320/IMG_5231.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite yards in the neighborhood - check out the huge candelabra!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdum-1wm5f8pE7Sn8O-KnU696lt5YuHFtZ9x95Mxj9VUegL1TUCF2AztFwLhN_vF-54jiLHL1hlhVi-ye7YjKwC6GG6B8GvUU11Oj5oyqylMod5HTdL_NtHDd8BuVBsrFGuDFrnCI7LSS/s1600/IMG_5420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdum-1wm5f8pE7Sn8O-KnU696lt5YuHFtZ9x95Mxj9VUegL1TUCF2AztFwLhN_vF-54jiLHL1hlhVi-ye7YjKwC6GG6B8GvUU11Oj5oyqylMod5HTdL_NtHDd8BuVBsrFGuDFrnCI7LSS/s320/IMG_5420.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My neighborhood park</td></tr>
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I chose to return to Denver specifically for Community - it was something I realized is critical for my health, happiness and wholeness. I'm not talking about having lots of friends, I'm referring to a group of people that you do life with. Those people that drop by unannounced, that you can call at any hour, that don't have to be entertained, but can just be present with you. Those with whom you can share the joys and sorrows of life, those that know your story, those who will help you with chores - just so you can spend time together. Sharing books, recipes, and meals. Having adventures. Having a place to belong. I unexpectedly experienced this in France, and greatly miss the community I was a part of there, and am grateful for the community that has grown around me here in Denver.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIycjpbnQBOuIBgxjjhcmZzNWs2fmB_zCEj5m1jdNk6riinaqPWjT6-fZk8LV0zTJd5N6gaffwFtwuvThLPmoBVNjLwIfdrVj_UT65RGeqtx-Vw1NItl2s2TKKQoVtwkL_LzLhfddVD2n8/s1600/IMG_5775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIycjpbnQBOuIBgxjjhcmZzNWs2fmB_zCEj5m1jdNk6riinaqPWjT6-fZk8LV0zTJd5N6gaffwFtwuvThLPmoBVNjLwIfdrVj_UT65RGeqtx-Vw1NItl2s2TKKQoVtwkL_LzLhfddVD2n8/s320/IMG_5775.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good book</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlQ61QircWO7meU-qON7Zu36LKEHK-vC3C2_Zs-OLllEqOUTu7P1R6FLky8SK303QgJbyLjoD6cD98YN2SkMjeqLkXFxVAdLKz7AkKOV5pFA623CNsBGA2XeDYOrVqNUdN5gDClPu9zLm/s1600/IMG_2349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwlQ61QircWO7meU-qON7Zu36LKEHK-vC3C2_Zs-OLllEqOUTu7P1R6FLky8SK303QgJbyLjoD6cD98YN2SkMjeqLkXFxVAdLKz7AkKOV5pFA623CNsBGA2XeDYOrVqNUdN5gDClPu9zLm/s320/IMG_2349.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good drinks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsMUbehNsCZvNsOqdCA4l3u-nVYMxuuogWav5kzTJfrC4_bwn8M7qH7f1ow-UrdBwm3CJbVIGV1SPe9Rs1ukg62LVBkNsagsunUWp6R1zF7lqqz2ncvjT9mPJUltO5-zlJqCdy3DcTp2z/s1600/IMG_4969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsMUbehNsCZvNsOqdCA4l3u-nVYMxuuogWav5kzTJfrC4_bwn8M7qH7f1ow-UrdBwm3CJbVIGV1SPe9Rs1ukg62LVBkNsagsunUWp6R1zF7lqqz2ncvjT9mPJUltO5-zlJqCdy3DcTp2z/s320/IMG_4969.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good food</td></tr>
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Looking back over this past year, I never could have imagined the beautiful community that would develop around me. Old and new have mingled together to create the present. Recently, I was walking home from visiting a friend (being able to walk to a friend's house is one of my favorite things, and I now have several friends within walking distance!) where we sat on her porch and had a cup of tea (another one of my favorite things). The weather was beautiful, my heart was full, and I thought, "I am so fortunate - I love my life!" It was such a spontaneous reaction to all that has been accumulating. True contentment is rare, and I often miss it because I'm so busy thinking about the what-if's and the maybe's, or I feel guilty for enjoying the good when so many others are hurting. But this weekend, as I was reviewing this past year, I was able to recognize and receive the gift of contentment and experience tremendous peace and joy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv8Bbm1l7Wow2U6gK2drS6SKkDUwaNtaJMtvDvnC8LRMDmDmPb-fReD4oVsiNKXWEPEyh1dU-SCB9ce-AnSjQV38JUtwpaWDD9_a3GQ3H6IHBsd8J38pniiEkV9qlfKEVaEk-X64jfGVr/s1600/IMG_5878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpv8Bbm1l7Wow2U6gK2drS6SKkDUwaNtaJMtvDvnC8LRMDmDmPb-fReD4oVsiNKXWEPEyh1dU-SCB9ce-AnSjQV38JUtwpaWDD9_a3GQ3H6IHBsd8J38pniiEkV9qlfKEVaEk-X64jfGVr/s320/IMG_5878.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Denver Botanic Gardens - an oasis in the city</td></tr>
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-49703420489032723042016-03-28T19:28:00.000-06:002016-05-09T18:06:41.985-06:00A Season of Transition: Finding My RootsI've now been back in the States for seven months, which is crazy to think about. Time sure does fly by and yet stand still at the same time. So, can I still say I'm in a season of transition? How long will my transition home take? I've moved often, and am quite familiar with the tasks and feelings involved in starting over and establishing a new life, but this returning and re-establishing is a new experience. It might seem like a minor difference, but it's actually been quite substantial for me.<br />
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I was away for nearly a year and had some significant life experiences which have shaped me and contributed to my continued growth. Returning to Denver, I wasn't sure how the "new" me would fit in and where I would belong, but friends have welcomed me with open arms. Some saved space for me while I was away, and others have made new space for me. What I sometimes forget, is that others also had a year's worth of life experiences that I was not a part of, and so when I can't figure out where I belong or why I no longer have the same place, I have to remember life continues to move forward for all of us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNG2z4-VRBf5trBnQGmC7ezJ37WlKecFozWXFweuRKnEPe1SM0IL8Z57ZjNFzyJ8rH3y5v2TOfk3srNj_FVukGSzalYsGy6XmN8G9EweSmt32DbE_GVDT7B8tAsNRRPlO4yuzs8nW0MBjB/s1600/IMG_5356.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNG2z4-VRBf5trBnQGmC7ezJ37WlKecFozWXFweuRKnEPe1SM0IL8Z57ZjNFzyJ8rH3y5v2TOfk3srNj_FVukGSzalYsGy6XmN8G9EweSmt32DbE_GVDT7B8tAsNRRPlO4yuzs8nW0MBjB/s320/IMG_5356.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beaches always remind me of the fluidity of life</td></tr>
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Now that I am back, I find myself struggling with finding my place and purpose in this season. My life looks almost exactly like it did before I left, which can be comforting, and I have received it as a gift; yet, before I left I was restless and dissatisfied, looking for <em>more</em>. So I went away and had a life-changing adventure, which was not at all what I had expected, but exactly what I needed. And now, I find myself with the same shell of a life, but my soul has changed, so things don't fit the same anymore. It's kind of like going back to visit your childhood home after being away for many years - it doesn't seem as big or grand or impressive as it once did, yet it is still so comforting and full of sentiment. You can cling to the memories and be disappointed with the reality, or you can embrace the reality and treasure the memories for what they are and how they brought you to the present.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhClANkhQubh6RFF7q95iPugpUs7lszMwK7An9nWhv9O6mm_3iub9zLiL2pVUot_xRso5E13wEz8QLuwRJXKDkJojphKoNa4DSvnCWSR6gJ-K7vGa82XnFGqPiOuKXKoM3itFN8lgyD3OCV/s1600/IMG_5388+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhClANkhQubh6RFF7q95iPugpUs7lszMwK7An9nWhv9O6mm_3iub9zLiL2pVUot_xRso5E13wEz8QLuwRJXKDkJojphKoNa4DSvnCWSR6gJ-K7vGa82XnFGqPiOuKXKoM3itFN8lgyD3OCV/s320/IMG_5388+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This sign above the door at a local coffee shop recently caught my attention</td></tr>
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In times of transition, I often find myself on an emotional roller coaster - loving the thrill of the new discoveries, the excitement of new routines, and the richness of new relationships; but also the exhaustion of unfamiliar rhythms, the burden of discovering all of the necessities of daily life, and the loneliness of casual acquaintances. In this time of returning and rediscovering, my roller coaster is off the rails as the juxtaposition of new and old, familiar and foreign collide.<br />
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I realize that some of my tension comes from trying to keep a foot in both worlds. My dad has often told me, once you make a decision, be all in, don't look back and wonder "what if", because you'll never know. Instead, embrace the decision, and if you don't like the results, make another decision and keep moving forward. So, rather than wondering "what if...." I am continuing to practice being present and making decisions that will keep me moving forward on a journey of growth and discovery, embracing this crazy adventure called Life!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfBdDIz_z6wus5Ay4RNmbNB9R42Nd-PcsqhPiK2lEQPf3X-EbbML44URgiqOHsehIf20K9YiO8K8a-Id90VC1sY_slX0y4gi7qI3YO1qa34wvj2elt7MkpnMnFujHHqSYIxvejII-ZnFd/s1600/IMG_5543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfBdDIz_z6wus5Ay4RNmbNB9R42Nd-PcsqhPiK2lEQPf3X-EbbML44URgiqOHsehIf20K9YiO8K8a-Id90VC1sY_slX0y4gi7qI3YO1qa34wvj2elt7MkpnMnFujHHqSYIxvejII-ZnFd/s320/IMG_5543.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know the name of the artist, but what a perfectly lovely sentiment</td></tr>
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-53914807875976119492015-11-21T15:19:00.002-07:002015-11-21T15:19:45.895-07:00Failure is simply part of the adventureI've been in my own place now for almost three weeks. Which means there's been lots of unpacking of boxes, sorting, purging and finding the right place to put things away. The amazing thing is, I'm back in my same adorable place that I was living in before I left. Yes, that's right, as fate would have it, it became available the same week I accepted a job. So, two months after returning to Denver, I now have a car, a job, and a place to live! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_7ffl2T22q1U7Yx3ANIbGppEijVvaVhJRJZKBtoyNujRdF5dg6nf7R1_W8nx1OS6Rvui3wgC6g8aDcA2gI6GZdfqC4uS4SrZRPIO772vuTmDNQt8vMZcBcveRqPmsYfk5O8zIut_sgvx/s1600/IMG_5145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6_7ffl2T22q1U7Yx3ANIbGppEijVvaVhJRJZKBtoyNujRdF5dg6nf7R1_W8nx1OS6Rvui3wgC6g8aDcA2gI6GZdfqC4uS4SrZRPIO772vuTmDNQt8vMZcBcveRqPmsYfk5O8zIut_sgvx/s320/IMG_5145.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little car and my neighborhood</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqXCOtOeFlvmhlb5tj-PBWE_8s0J2McX9FzYG0s9bf64aO07qY1smqh9XGGQMuQ-Y67gBT5kVb7TIqx6sIafYn3Vgfb-16MjD3qhbUU4FGOzwJ88Y3lT_1OxFFwIyxeicXD-Ee_nZ0xYb/s1600/IMG_5242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqXCOtOeFlvmhlb5tj-PBWE_8s0J2McX9FzYG0s9bf64aO07qY1smqh9XGGQMuQ-Y67gBT5kVb7TIqx6sIafYn3Vgfb-16MjD3qhbUU4FGOzwJ88Y3lT_1OxFFwIyxeicXD-Ee_nZ0xYb/s320/IMG_5242.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my office window</td></tr>
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To settle in and really make it feel like home, and to have a good excuse to take a break from unpacking, I've been doing a bit of baking. Last Friday, after I heard the news of the horrific tragedy in Paris, I was in shock and unable to focus on anything as I waited to hear from friends. As I waited, I decided I would bake a batch of macarons - something I learned to bake while living in France and something minor that I felt I could do to connect with and honor my French friends. Since I don't yet have a food scale, I spent some time converting the recipe from grams to cups and was hopeful it would work. Sadly, it did not. Here is failed attempt number one at baking french macarons at altitude. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMzeyVZZScf9MNqUfVRb-Bc4RaZgGZjWiqTvwr0XYFTKWrG8qZd9tbYfUB1-mXJB7mpUjkren3T3TBIra9od5I4NfNlzzQHLjKvtLlwv9DtZMXiJhmk6978wbDtFra26xv2Y5P0ayl2wQ/s1600/IMG_5227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMzeyVZZScf9MNqUfVRb-Bc4RaZgGZjWiqTvwr0XYFTKWrG8qZd9tbYfUB1-mXJB7mpUjkren3T3TBIra9od5I4NfNlzzQHLjKvtLlwv9DtZMXiJhmk6978wbDtFra26xv2Y5P0ayl2wQ/s320/IMG_5227.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't get the air out of the meringue, so they cracked when I took them out of the oven</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYe08zR-5yenxB8q2-k4PvsUNk31T53tQxJwzhFv-RPCd0O0GxBfBwB4mFer5fkp6vAluBI6hNOY8KBj02Qc1X-gTLMfDkUewjziEBFls-yt2D_0n-h5gWrJSqtLOj3ySEBrpbgVhCUqfK/s1600/IMG_5228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYe08zR-5yenxB8q2-k4PvsUNk31T53tQxJwzhFv-RPCd0O0GxBfBwB4mFer5fkp6vAluBI6hNOY8KBj02Qc1X-gTLMfDkUewjziEBFls-yt2D_0n-h5gWrJSqtLOj3ySEBrpbgVhCUqfK/s320/IMG_5228.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't cook them long enough, so they turned into a pile of chocolate crumbs as I tried to get them off the paper</td></tr>
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Don't worry, I didn't throw away all of those chocolatey macaron crumbs, instead I made a crème anglaise and created a little trifle adding fresh blackberries. Sorry, no picture of this one, but round two of macarons will commence soon!<br />
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Shortly after returning to Denver, a friend ordered a pie to support my baking addiction, and patiently waited while I figured out which end was up and got reestablished. So, earlier this week, I finally fulfilled that order and made a salted-caramel apple pie. This one is always a big hit and has earned me more than one marriage proposal over the years! It's the perfect blend of flaky crust, crisp apples and crumbly topping, with the creamy caramel holding it all together.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DGViw9l3Bo_Lj7ymlIZZBDiBFJ2Y67pSsBxzekQrhj20DhA-AlvwgBdsyMrq19-H2obM-N1l3s0sxQEFdvemqDrhDoiyVn-VSOG-FeohbxqtIyg1gHjLvA1pVR_6_jG7Ja2mC0NXkjFa/s1600/IMG_5241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DGViw9l3Bo_Lj7ymlIZZBDiBFJ2Y67pSsBxzekQrhj20DhA-AlvwgBdsyMrq19-H2obM-N1l3s0sxQEFdvemqDrhDoiyVn-VSOG-FeohbxqtIyg1gHjLvA1pVR_6_jG7Ja2mC0NXkjFa/s320/IMG_5241.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salted-Caramel Apple Pie</td></tr>
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A few days ago I was headed to Boulder to spend an evening with new and old friends and wanted to bring a little dessert to share, but didn't want to make a trip to the store. So, scouring my pantry (thanks to some dear friends who generously re-stocked my pantry with baking supplies), I found the things I needed to make a gluten-free pumpkin cheesecake! The balance of the crunchy nut crust with the smooth pumpkin cream seemed to be greatly appreciated by all.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgeEy-o2z3kzZbGGsKufbi771utVSggU5H6R9h7bCSum0AeAQTmtG9n07B7cJgW9z1sfPhT_NknFbfvIyPrMWKCnNi_2KIW9og4ZFj25jk2UIPVJF4hm1n3XWhQnTUGJuHT2O686SZeVq/s1600/IMG_5244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgeEy-o2z3kzZbGGsKufbi771utVSggU5H6R9h7bCSum0AeAQTmtG9n07B7cJgW9z1sfPhT_NknFbfvIyPrMWKCnNi_2KIW9og4ZFj25jk2UIPVJF4hm1n3XWhQnTUGJuHT2O686SZeVq/s320/IMG_5244.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin Cheesecake with a nut crust</td></tr>
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As I was looking at my sad pile of macaron crumbs, I was reminded that while things don't always turn out the way we expected them to, it doesn't mean it's a failure, it's simply part of the adventure, and an opportunity to creatively explore new ideas. As I continually work to adjust my perspective and expectations, whether in the kitchen or in life, I often find new surprises and hidden gifts where I least expect them. <br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-52808198016374140272015-10-22T11:41:00.000-06:002015-10-22T11:41:52.601-06:00Exploring Denver with a fresh Perspective<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYCvzUUhGYsZQuRQuvcxYMnbeQhx7KtAYU0ElaZou8m5K2bWJvkiyu6ST4U-jHWqsPvNtC-xOiuqAItnB8KSFG-TK_fxSNZzO2YlWYO-xdClE-yT8HgEhoRmeXKkgus2Q7pR4YNgf4DLb/s1600/IMG_5010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbYCvzUUhGYsZQuRQuvcxYMnbeQhx7KtAYU0ElaZou8m5K2bWJvkiyu6ST4U-jHWqsPvNtC-xOiuqAItnB8KSFG-TK_fxSNZzO2YlWYO-xdClE-yT8HgEhoRmeXKkgus2Q7pR4YNgf4DLb/s320/IMG_5010.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Denver International Airport</td></tr>
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The beauty of the Denver skies welcomed me home nearly two months ago. It's hard to believe it's been that long, but I just counted out the weeks and, it's true, I have just concluded week eight of being back in Colorado. It has been an absolutely beautiful Fall here, with glorious sunny days, colorful leaves, and bright blue skies. And, in this time of transition, I have been blessed by generous and gracious friends who have provided the time and space I needed to readjust to a life that is somewhat familiar and yet so foreign. As part of my transition process, I have been able to explore the Denver area like it was all brand new to me. I brought the joy and wonder I had while exploring European cities and discovered a whole new beauty in Denver.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrafDUAHK4yIm-6v2uFgeQ2OJUxtbdOToEgNSNtg_WYtjHnKfmRIpMjVb7hxWQOcFHf4chzApcP5l8HBbINCTCT3KrjJ1nanQYBSh2jsjmuzNjmxQB7vMZEy6GW4CXF6U7u-REORppcoAK/s1600/IMG_5021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrafDUAHK4yIm-6v2uFgeQ2OJUxtbdOToEgNSNtg_WYtjHnKfmRIpMjVb7hxWQOcFHf4chzApcP5l8HBbINCTCT3KrjJ1nanQYBSh2jsjmuzNjmxQB7vMZEy6GW4CXF6U7u-REORppcoAK/s320/IMG_5021.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look, Denver has it's own "Arche de Triomphe"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGS5_TPrAvM0br5m5ZJsuo3Z1cE6rdXA_w3_sKQy9QOBGN1p9hkLh3wyFX0zpYutKRePJTUDVQ1ezr6nkz18Ml3_9OVFHzAFxNiOZpsGAnuFXDCErRc_BxoKY9GbV8IRHvYXwYBNPpN14/s1600/IMG_5023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGS5_TPrAvM0br5m5ZJsuo3Z1cE6rdXA_w3_sKQy9QOBGN1p9hkLh3wyFX0zpYutKRePJTUDVQ1ezr6nkz18Ml3_9OVFHzAFxNiOZpsGAnuFXDCErRc_BxoKY9GbV8IRHvYXwYBNPpN14/s320/IMG_5023.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beauty of details</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_9_FjA5DreiEIHZhg6sOetVqHL13dZed_gd4uuVI_Z131GPpOcbHxqLxBl8XHagIzDf7TbQ3db1fqJULV38KRI3FWqdCeESwjHe3yelBbQxXELWBoswz9ckDPLoWr6jd7rOsgAGXg80A/s1600/IMG_5033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_9_FjA5DreiEIHZhg6sOetVqHL13dZed_gd4uuVI_Z131GPpOcbHxqLxBl8XHagIzDf7TbQ3db1fqJULV38KRI3FWqdCeESwjHe3yelBbQxXELWBoswz9ckDPLoWr6jd7rOsgAGXg80A/s320/IMG_5033.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fountain reminiscent of my time in Aix en Provence</td></tr>
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While parts of the city have reminded me of Europe, this huge outdoor fireplace is such a Colorado thing - it made me smile. I was sitting in a little park/outdoor café next to a crepe stand feeling like I'd been transported back to the Luxembourg gardens, when I turned around and noticed this gigantic fireplace and was caught in this liminal space between cultures - it was so fun to get to experience the gift of being present in the moment and enjoying memories of being present in another place at another time. This experience reminded me that we all have filters through which we see and experience the world. With France freshly imprinted on my soul, I now see Denver with a fresh, new perspective - one that isn't expecting it to be Europe, but simply makes it come alive in a whole new way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3Jhh_yDMmoRF2FnmWf6hc47ojqvui4iVBxnDT0wIqTbXYl3mBQM75Y3SEMdZzO9Ap16MUV6dkVsRN3FOMla-2u36FbfzW8-dkC8mhp-NemNs0cTfyKIBgIhLreLqa0Qh_GBW7QTM-Rab/s1600/IMG_5034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3Jhh_yDMmoRF2FnmWf6hc47ojqvui4iVBxnDT0wIqTbXYl3mBQM75Y3SEMdZzO9Ap16MUV6dkVsRN3FOMla-2u36FbfzW8-dkC8mhp-NemNs0cTfyKIBgIhLreLqa0Qh_GBW7QTM-Rab/s320/IMG_5034.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you."</td></tr>
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In my opinion, one of the many great things about Denver are the bike paths that wind through the city, and I recently had the luxury of spending a pleasant, sunny afternoon exploring the city, taking in the views from my bike seat.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpYVrZ8Rzbqn2cEudIpKVZODiBY1cadWzLaDR_FHzeNNQIInvFlFKL68gxUMD-hcNo4ncWiL4-TBwR4ZG9374Zr5EehN1On0683XvIjnZ1BecRqLqHmvcjSlY-a2iQcYitlfZkStQHZRF/s1600/IMG_5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpYVrZ8Rzbqn2cEudIpKVZODiBY1cadWzLaDR_FHzeNNQIInvFlFKL68gxUMD-hcNo4ncWiL4-TBwR4ZG9374Zr5EehN1On0683XvIjnZ1BecRqLqHmvcjSlY-a2iQcYitlfZkStQHZRF/s320/IMG_5133.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confluence park</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPEMBgsN-kLc_WX3X3NgAnG1lsq7lFdF9hh7Ovy5e8E-Tw8NwX0sPrACgTenG94BpHub8wthQQO96vtWATUDjCDj9GoqDN4ieCJlGRoVFLc9ctq-CwRlgW6bPAx0b2wvG0WYcYkIJ9Vjd/s1600/IMG_5139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPEMBgsN-kLc_WX3X3NgAnG1lsq7lFdF9hh7Ovy5e8E-Tw8NwX0sPrACgTenG94BpHub8wthQQO96vtWATUDjCDj9GoqDN4ieCJlGRoVFLc9ctq-CwRlgW6bPAx0b2wvG0WYcYkIJ9Vjd/s320/IMG_5139.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some new street art in the process of being created</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dancing People</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEbO69PLMAG_pfOR7NPGzZR1fOufOorTUXSuU8L0CG_BegvYk61yoBNiY6UOOqpE0nLoQl2EIpjVB3rR7wOVMDMJraIjMJ2AHu6j6DbxByLOXGJUkWp2-vsLyzJlLw-QuAuYwFnCvO-cb/s1600/IMG_5142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEbO69PLMAG_pfOR7NPGzZR1fOufOorTUXSuU8L0CG_BegvYk61yoBNiY6UOOqpE0nLoQl2EIpjVB3rR7wOVMDMJraIjMJ2AHu6j6DbxByLOXGJUkWp2-vsLyzJlLw-QuAuYwFnCvO-cb/s320/IMG_5142.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cherry Creek - a quiet place in the city</td></tr>
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And so, the city has embraced me and welcomed me home, reminding me that it is full of beauty and wonder.<br />
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-169919464571047312015-09-29T13:25:00.000-06:002015-09-29T13:25:26.056-06:00So, what are you doing now?Life has a way of moving forward whether we want it to or not. Whether we are holding on to the old and resisting the new, or we are denying the past and worrying about the future; whatever it is, if we are not living fully in the present moment it disappears before we know it, and then we discover that we haven't really lived at all, but we've been looking back or looking ahead, waiting for some vague image of a dream or a memory.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4bL7R36CNWcOLCS3pnvo_sGFIEuKdpEMpXXN9psQMVEIBJ9rD0fMTOkw8ZgBvVU86EW3aMYRRZGygQxoPLfvyquX4sLYViI1p5LWmyEYtaPJB02IbydYargAxCLgl2BpYyy5_iGm5o1M/s1600/IMG_2802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm4bL7R36CNWcOLCS3pnvo_sGFIEuKdpEMpXXN9psQMVEIBJ9rD0fMTOkw8ZgBvVU86EW3aMYRRZGygQxoPLfvyquX4sLYViI1p5LWmyEYtaPJB02IbydYargAxCLgl2BpYyy5_iGm5o1M/s400/IMG_2802.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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One day last year I realized that I was ready to embrace the present - to stop trying to manage outcomes and control my future, and to step out of the tiny box I had squeezed myself into in the past. My safe and comfortable life was no longer satisfying. There was something just a bit hollow and empty, and I could no longer deny the restlessness in my soul. And so, as I admitted this truth and opened myself to the possibilities, I found myself quitting my job, selling my car, packing a couple of bags, and putting everything else in a tiny storage unit, so that I could get on a plane to an unknown future in France. This blog began as a way for me to <a href="http://thebakinggypsy.blogspot.com/2014/11/travelling-is-always-adventure.html" target="_blank">share my journey with you</a> as I embarked on this new adventure, and what an adventure it has been! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIAniBHIyv0SZyZF-sjnKUAxkA2eSzeKr6pHt-8OumtFu0W8p878nwuSQvG6wCKYYLNDPxBhgtnkRhZqJmhmTAwZupGfWW9OTF2jUT1hvi3rjvklTjBEs6wkXJQz9ClEKivYXQ-rxvYjw5/s1600/IMG_2096+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIAniBHIyv0SZyZF-sjnKUAxkA2eSzeKr6pHt-8OumtFu0W8p878nwuSQvG6wCKYYLNDPxBhgtnkRhZqJmhmTAwZupGfWW9OTF2jUT1hvi3rjvklTjBEs6wkXJQz9ClEKivYXQ-rxvYjw5/s320/IMG_2096+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now, nearly a year later I find myself back in Colorado, sitting in the uncomfortable liminal space of a whole lot of unknowns, yet being more at peace than I've been in a long time. I've returned to my place of belonging, my community, my support network. As I continue to learn to share my needs, to put more of my weight on the bridge of relationship that connects me to others, I find myself overwhelmed with generous hospitality and kindness. In this, yet another season of transition, my friends and family are patiently and joyfully walking with me. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnc6KNw4VRlgw-BbV1-lE1Wswx1i5XB-RppLKLqdveCxp04dmq0DeURwENiKnMxlBo5e65l73R7CLLotoEhBX7YpoCLs045pyaC6mHiVOR8uo-NSpGkykH2ZRm5WtA26ozAo0dwCGu2MQ6/s1600/IMG_0693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnc6KNw4VRlgw-BbV1-lE1Wswx1i5XB-RppLKLqdveCxp04dmq0DeURwENiKnMxlBo5e65l73R7CLLotoEhBX7YpoCLs045pyaC6mHiVOR8uo-NSpGkykH2ZRm5WtA26ozAo0dwCGu2MQ6/s320/IMG_0693.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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After a year away, I was hopeful that I would have this great epiphany, that my true purpose in life would blatantly present itself so that I would know without a shadow of a doubt what was next.... but the heavens remained silent, and instead, I've heard the quiet whisper of the Spirit, the gentle calling of the One who created me: Be present. Be patient. Be still. Be open. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICHCCacH1Gy7CSAANtt8JXAqS5_F-hmzngbdYjIAH1JHDlbJTfohG4hX5SjIG1wdLqkjs1mKBaYEyeNHZPDhZSR4SKstvPfuBQCDjWue5a6QafKIfrMZYWSatJe5uFQ12139IiAiewRxE/s1600/IMG_5095+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICHCCacH1Gy7CSAANtt8JXAqS5_F-hmzngbdYjIAH1JHDlbJTfohG4hX5SjIG1wdLqkjs1mKBaYEyeNHZPDhZSR4SKstvPfuBQCDjWue5a6QafKIfrMZYWSatJe5uFQ12139IiAiewRxE/s320/IMG_5095+%25282%2529.JPG" width="229" /></a></div>
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So what am I doing now? That's the question everyone asks. If I say that I am simply being present and waiting, people get a bit uncomfortable, because we are a society of doing, not being. We make things happen, we don't take time to watch them grow and develop. And so, the socially correct answer is; I'm looking for a car, a job, and a place to live. I've polished my resume and submitted applications, I'm networking and..... doesn't that all sound nice? And yet, if I'm looking to reconstruct my life as it was, to replicate what I had, then why did I leave? The reality is, I am doing all of the necessary things to find a source of income, to have reliable transportation, and to have a long-term, sustainable place to live.... and yet what's different is my heart. My internal motivations and questions are very different now. As I embrace the fullness and authenticity of who I am, I will find those things that are necessary for me to live a satisfying life, but they will not define me, they will simply be a part of my story.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kDG00DM6MF_2lvU4JcSHvhsJCyVbqukcjKY5Yu-32l5dfPf-Sm88L70g7RSJH9z_WlHYTgX0kgYUXZxABEIi3wczJXHqNIo_mI_0e9Mdoh3X0WKPEa4RpVyTUinXkuJcnJDkYHSwzUwj/s1600/IMG_0908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kDG00DM6MF_2lvU4JcSHvhsJCyVbqukcjKY5Yu-32l5dfPf-Sm88L70g7RSJH9z_WlHYTgX0kgYUXZxABEIi3wczJXHqNIo_mI_0e9Mdoh3X0WKPEa4RpVyTUinXkuJcnJDkYHSwzUwj/s320/IMG_0908.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-10556875801797290872015-09-04T16:05:00.000-06:002015-09-04T16:06:36.474-06:00Solitude in the Loire ValleyI have been grossly negligent in updating you on my various adventures, but you see, I've been busy having adventures! After I finished my studies and work, I took a week-long holiday to the <a href="http://www.france.fr/en/sites-and-monuments/castles-loire-valley.html" target="_blank">Loire Valley</a> where I spent my days roaming around castles, vineyards, and gardens. It was a week of rest and renewal, and a bit of indulgence as I mentally and spiritually embraced my next season of transition. I had a glorious week of solitude in this valley famous for its castles, which is also an epicenter for spiritual pilgrimages. <br />
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Thanks to the help of a dear friend, and the generous hospitality of a new friend, I got to stay in a beautiful home perfectly situated in the heart of the city of <a href="http://www.francetoday.com/articles/2011/06/05/lovely_laid-back_tours.html" target="_blank">Tours</a>. Each day I would go out and explore, then wrap up the afternoon down by the gypsy camp at the river. Ok, it wasn't a <em>real </em>gypsy camp, but it was an outdoor bar with live music and dancing, and all sorts of creative seating overlooking the river.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Guinguette (The Country Café) - or in my mind The Gypsy Camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Game Shack (bus) at The Gypsy Camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These boats reminded me of the gypsy boats in the movie Chocolat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The outdoor library/study at The Gypsy Camp</td></tr>
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One day I rented a bike and rode to the nearby village of <a href="http://www.france.fr/en/art-and-culture/chateau-damboise.html" target="_blank">Amboise</a>. It was a beautiful but long ride along the river and through vineyards. The chateau was impressive, but I was also intrigued by the many houses built directly into the cliffs. I also discovered wine caves built in the cliffs, which gives a whole new perspective on a wine cellar.</div>
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Another day I hopped on the train and went to the village of <a href="http://www.france-travel-info.com/frenchcastles-chinon/" target="_blank">Chinon</a>. We passed through field after field of sunflowers and more vineyards too. I enjoyed exploring the village with the comforting presence of the chateau towering overhead.</div>
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Unknowingly, I saved the best chateau for the last. I was a bit done with seeing castles, but had heard this was a must see, and I am very thankful I made the effort to go. The chateau of <a href="http://www.france.fr/en/art-and-culture/chateau-de-chenonceau.html" target="_blank">Chenonceau</a> is a grand estate, with all of the outbuildings, flower and vegetable gardens immaculately kept. From every direction the castle takes on a new personality, and I found myself thoroughly immersed in the history of the various women who had lived here, while I soaked up the beauty of the architecture and the landscapes.</div>
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This was a week of quiet reflection. I filled up a lot of journal pages as I prepared to say goodbye to France and re-enter the US. It was an ideal location for me to embrace this next season of transition. I was able to revel in the beauty and splendor of the French countryside, indulge in the delicious French cuisine, and simply be present to my heart and soul.</div>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-60019104297698275722015-08-31T19:22:00.000-06:002015-09-04T16:07:19.181-06:00Saying goodbye was not easy.... which is actually a good thingAt the end of July I finished my time at the school in France where I have been studying and working for the past ten months. I had the good fortune of working with some pretty amazing people who were not only colleagues and teachers, but friends. Here is a glimpse of a few of the people who have been a part of my journey this past year. By no means is this everyone, as I don't have pictures of many, but these are some of the people who made this year special for me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I spent a LOT of time with these crazy guys </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Partners in crime and fun</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patient teachers and dear friends</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGs9xVbWf5vpzZ6autqr2FljZNHVocLcTJpbj3mxLH7l-7atrLE2HeaiD-80-ci2YOnZQA-_gdH6Dn6CxvyxKXWhbj7KGR6451XLeaxrzwK1ANuzLMBe0wNwxwEt1eJLEHOmphI8KKI_e/s1600/IMG_3048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGs9xVbWf5vpzZ6autqr2FljZNHVocLcTJpbj3mxLH7l-7atrLE2HeaiD-80-ci2YOnZQA-_gdH6Dn6CxvyxKXWhbj7KGR6451XLeaxrzwK1ANuzLMBe0wNwxwEt1eJLEHOmphI8KKI_e/s400/IMG_3048.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baking Buddy, teacher, friend - she welcomed me into her life</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-IGsYpBwE5Ji8B9Xd_A01rEbWVk4IqZcAMYwZofSv-O9zO7ZpO1CUVK90RNsdl57qY9N25iWjm7jT_vgyTvN7HkBe9pdR5jal5TPLeMgLRzUv5Dt9ouzldDL2NkASs17rK9zxzEQHxEM/s1600/IMG_3963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC-IGsYpBwE5Ji8B9Xd_A01rEbWVk4IqZcAMYwZofSv-O9zO7ZpO1CUVK90RNsdl57qY9N25iWjm7jT_vgyTvN7HkBe9pdR5jal5TPLeMgLRzUv5Dt9ouzldDL2NkASs17rK9zxzEQHxEM/s400/IMG_3963.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dedicated teacher and friend, she always made sure I was taken care of -<br />
and her kiddos were my favorite English students!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27sSskhRkZeCLXhMOKVrDPhlUuV_LFaCHu9_xx4h2Exeo5LFTGrMR69j8nHbUAIFQ31g3SkJuoqomNWi4zhcSUkRhXF-J_nAUa6f-3IX5frHTiNS9cDrpbn_GvOnzdyzHGfMrzk50KLF8/s1600/IMG_4033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27sSskhRkZeCLXhMOKVrDPhlUuV_LFaCHu9_xx4h2Exeo5LFTGrMR69j8nHbUAIFQ31g3SkJuoqomNWi4zhcSUkRhXF-J_nAUa6f-3IX5frHTiNS9cDrpbn_GvOnzdyzHGfMrzk50KLF8/s400/IMG_4033.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She was our housekeeper, but so much more </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSt24MAZtJSeb08x1-atWO8YSVwhCFlMIlCbHrZ4vcovmJqVSJ_aPMgfanPU5N109h_sUJ1xec0lpSgJ91z-1iL8gKNoWwhktEdsm8XZAdvv1k6F_eMxsiowvXbdizMadqV4B-1hjV_ws/s1600/IMG_3811.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSt24MAZtJSeb08x1-atWO8YSVwhCFlMIlCbHrZ4vcovmJqVSJ_aPMgfanPU5N109h_sUJ1xec0lpSgJ91z-1iL8gKNoWwhktEdsm8XZAdvv1k6F_eMxsiowvXbdizMadqV4B-1hjV_ws/s400/IMG_3811.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Chef, who patiently taught me French vocabulary for all things cooking related</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQUoXbZ2Cer3DlFexvqaiw3_3F6wtx_MtAWRmIm9kTpL2_OYkxrx-stzgXev4zL863aq-fBXbh087FKC9OGqkhyphenhyphenVZMS8L4weLUmeMyyjFW4AlnK7_FtsQbz6a8LQhKrXBYl6mweHmFF8m/s1600/IMG_4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQUoXbZ2Cer3DlFexvqaiw3_3F6wtx_MtAWRmIm9kTpL2_OYkxrx-stzgXev4zL863aq-fBXbh087FKC9OGqkhyphenhyphenVZMS8L4weLUmeMyyjFW4AlnK7_FtsQbz6a8LQhKrXBYl6mweHmFF8m/s400/IMG_4048.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy... he's an American-Frenchman with a huge heart full of kindness</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7v7AbE9_wV-AgHKXCy4I51vxHc0gB_jwBRlaISk9HMX4ZgmxvcZGWxKa9wdgdgL_2szD3Eet6iu35xF7blbYKOwuxMq1Oinl1Rnj7NvbwwREfhRqXh5o08vLgHO4ON5pdvcy7G0WOIvIF/s1600/IMG_3394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7v7AbE9_wV-AgHKXCy4I51vxHc0gB_jwBRlaISk9HMX4ZgmxvcZGWxKa9wdgdgL_2szD3Eet6iu35xF7blbYKOwuxMq1Oinl1Rnj7NvbwwREfhRqXh5o08vLgHO4ON5pdvcy7G0WOIvIF/s400/IMG_3394.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hospitable, kind, and super talented - she provided a home away from home</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvHa6w1FE_-JD_oFy-rZIsAirlwB3wRCV3uCvsjYaNhI-T0vsJ1o2FEAW6_2Cl2XMQQ-5B3zkpTlgzLlLoNAq5XQUf0IssIdslLSI3D8_oIKDq5ZuV6BQuP2OQ_lTRTkt8Bjq_9IIkoPp/s1600/IMG_3730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvHa6w1FE_-JD_oFy-rZIsAirlwB3wRCV3uCvsjYaNhI-T0vsJ1o2FEAW6_2Cl2XMQQ-5B3zkpTlgzLlLoNAq5XQUf0IssIdslLSI3D8_oIKDq5ZuV6BQuP2OQ_lTRTkt8Bjq_9IIkoPp/s400/IMG_3730.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He put up with me day in and day out - providing laughter and balance in the chaos</td></tr>
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And so, memories were made and friendships grew, and this is what made it difficult to say goodbye. I'm thankful it was difficult, because that means I was present and invested in relationships which have impacted me greatly and which will be truly missed. Thank you to all of you who were a part of my journey at Planete-Langues, you are now forever part of my story.<br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-40699433688397143762015-08-03T04:29:00.000-06:002015-08-03T04:31:03.895-06:00The Beauty of LightsThere is a town nearby that is famous for it's cathedral which is a significant point on the Saint Jacques de Compostelle trail. In my opinion, the cathedral of Chartres rivals Norte Dame de Paris in it's grandeur, and because it's in a small country village, you can see it from miles (or rather kilometers) away as it sits at the top of a hill with a magnificent view of the countryside. Also, there are no crowds, so you can actually experience the quiet majesty of the cathedral. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifYFNZyGqYhYcXMg_POfvwZHPf089aTLH2FiJz_yze2ca_q0BcSewgohqWwhalFxfVdaEKMpIVcYflzbgA0Cn_riKC18Rl0ZXkbuuDCJtdAbk6lhRYq26DzMVpoocjgtNkHY1tewqKJ5iS/s1600/IMG_1476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifYFNZyGqYhYcXMg_POfvwZHPf089aTLH2FiJz_yze2ca_q0BcSewgohqWwhalFxfVdaEKMpIVcYflzbgA0Cn_riKC18Rl0ZXkbuuDCJtdAbk6lhRYq26DzMVpoocjgtNkHY1tewqKJ5iS/s320/IMG_1476.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I've been there several times to visit the cathedral, but I recently learned that there's a whole medieval village that still exists at the base of the cathedral which I had never seen; and, during the summer they have a special <a href="http://www.chartresenlumieres.com/en/" target="_blank">light show</a>, <em>every single night, all summer long. </em>I love lights! The little twinkle lights at Christmas, the antique chandelier hung from a tree over a garden terrace, the flickering candlelight at dinner, the quirky lamp at the local coffee shop, the sunlight filtering through the trees, the moonlight shining in my window..... really, I LOVE lights! And so, I have been waiting with great anticipation for this opportunity to see the lights of Charters.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtC2UU0ixmbAzEtM3oL919evhhNpOZ8d8yh8wPJRLpWMRdPJWkmleHofiR042Un9hG-0PxxeHYts-eQ59oQ7vX-gqDYA2v_ALO4G_k-KfGYRfxBTZ8fq8CDFfca9UsC5EaXCrw9dJ2YxUb/s1600/IMG_1462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtC2UU0ixmbAzEtM3oL919evhhNpOZ8d8yh8wPJRLpWMRdPJWkmleHofiR042Un9hG-0PxxeHYts-eQ59oQ7vX-gqDYA2v_ALO4G_k-KfGYRfxBTZ8fq8CDFfca9UsC5EaXCrw9dJ2YxUb/s320/IMG_1462.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cathedral of Chartres by day</td></tr>
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The medieval village of Charters is picturesque and offered a wonderful start to the evening. While we waited for the sun to set we walked through the tiny streets, following the winding river towards the cathedral.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk-3Zsa9NlOhyByr7QmIUxqM6-HOdOhLzpqmznnwMZHNyh009gJxErijqhOyaUoMuYTbsATEcu5rEfAE3B7bybq3gpJJAyZC00Gk_dGdbeMffKU8j0zjbErZochyphenhyphenI6fzK4Qta_LndzaHI/s1600/IMG_3969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIk-3Zsa9NlOhyByr7QmIUxqM6-HOdOhLzpqmznnwMZHNyh009gJxErijqhOyaUoMuYTbsATEcu5rEfAE3B7bybq3gpJJAyZC00Gk_dGdbeMffKU8j0zjbErZochyphenhyphenI6fzK4Qta_LndzaHI/s320/IMG_3969.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwgHnlHEhG2If5FTiHNTYWuZzguh8gfvgy8yZfZ733JP3bEG999Pil-XVUQda7Y_UuYxiowr5WHOR1uEOlt6Rfd2HJLGjbdebeiOWhXZCRfHnPkhc_ukexwkVMxtYM0LfyU5At-7R6PrK/s1600/IMG_3986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHwgHnlHEhG2If5FTiHNTYWuZzguh8gfvgy8yZfZ733JP3bEG999Pil-XVUQda7Y_UuYxiowr5WHOR1uEOlt6Rfd2HJLGjbdebeiOWhXZCRfHnPkhc_ukexwkVMxtYM0LfyU5At-7R6PrK/s320/IMG_3986.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A tiny little restaurant overhanging the river</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5GrGIuA_GXYWZHqMYqDj08a5CGfZXqTReGexfUn3Y5uBAW2Jl0M5KcJ_ei0o9licT3vhhXpGAkXYGh4pwUN7XSbq4ro0cLMYcBrHxTp4iofJT_f6tIdvZwoIrEZ1gtAKA25kCut1Z3zA/s1600/IMG_3978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5GrGIuA_GXYWZHqMYqDj08a5CGfZXqTReGexfUn3Y5uBAW2Jl0M5KcJ_ei0o9licT3vhhXpGAkXYGh4pwUN7XSbq4ro0cLMYcBrHxTp4iofJT_f6tIdvZwoIrEZ1gtAKA25kCut1Z3zA/s320/IMG_3978.JPG" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's the cathedral in the background</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCJt9kzlsgrOtK6LhwFTXnbIiwvzEhVVt7UoqwutDYWOp6TbJ9fWk8SpZ3NjSEgoKw05CtG50tT1xbTL02p3xrzMqWnVd_1ckwHsWSj2HtJcGhpoplEsnR93nL0OlxwPLZv1ZLMsErlP_/s1600/IMG_4011+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCJt9kzlsgrOtK6LhwFTXnbIiwvzEhVVt7UoqwutDYWOp6TbJ9fWk8SpZ3NjSEgoKw05CtG50tT1xbTL02p3xrzMqWnVd_1ckwHsWSj2HtJcGhpoplEsnR93nL0OlxwPLZv1ZLMsErlP_/s320/IMG_4011+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chartres en Lumieres - Charters in Lights</td></tr>
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The pictures can't even begin to capture the beauty of the light show, but I tried to take a few to share with you. The lights are animated and tell a story of each of the historical monuments in the village that are part of the light show. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Jwtxh0z2dZt7NVK-g8yAideiQpv1svGq-Dd_QxYjQk4cChy_POY-e78EkIF7bp5PQ_cWi0cegL3Gn_qpyu8eaIku4ZIIgvVoOllfU59WU3mjFI2bLQRuP3XobeQdNROZvYxjBvM4whv3/s1600/IMG_4004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Jwtxh0z2dZt7NVK-g8yAideiQpv1svGq-Dd_QxYjQk4cChy_POY-e78EkIF7bp5PQ_cWi0cegL3Gn_qpyu8eaIku4ZIIgvVoOllfU59WU3mjFI2bLQRuP3XobeQdNROZvYxjBvM4whv3/s320/IMG_4004.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cathedral in the midst of the show</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsFWJVN2jRak9y5DXgtD-Ow457C75wk4_I0h1SAm3Uweb0UinmK3JZ2quPIGVzsHRKfQe5Dvz2akIAjjgz2kbzXwqbEQBUaR4Uv-cBKupeijPjG30PG5_V_1XySoC53P8nYyGVD1EkjEY/s1600/IMG_3997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsFWJVN2jRak9y5DXgtD-Ow457C75wk4_I0h1SAm3Uweb0UinmK3JZ2quPIGVzsHRKfQe5Dvz2akIAjjgz2kbzXwqbEQBUaR4Uv-cBKupeijPjG30PG5_V_1XySoC53P8nYyGVD1EkjEY/s320/IMG_3997.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The side entrance of the cathedral</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another side of the cathedral</td></tr>
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This church was one of the many monuments that were part of the light show. When we arrived at dusk, I snapped the first picture, and at the end of the night, from the same spot, I took the second picture. </div>
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It was a spectacular evening that delighted my senses. The beauty of the village was idyllic, the lights were beyond anything I had imagined, the music complimented everything nicely, the night was warm and cloudless with nearly a full moon, and the company was lovely!</div>
The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-66841643235181825902015-07-22T00:48:00.000-06:002015-07-22T01:22:20.207-06:00TransitionsI haven't written anything for a while, but it's not for a lack of things to say. On the contrary, there are many things for me to share, I just haven't known quite where to begin. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the view</td></tr>
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A year ago at this time moving to France was simply a dream, and now I have been living my dream for the last ten months - living, studying, and working in France. I arrived bright-eyed and eager for the adventure that lay ahead, wondering if I might find a new place to call home.... if I might "fit" in France better than in the US... many friends had told me I was much more European than American in my approach to life. I was hopeful that I would find answers to some big life questions - Who am I? Where do I belong? What is my unique purpose in life? Ok, so maybe I had some unrealistic expectations, but really, I was ready for a new adventure and this was exactly what I needed to gain a fresh perspective on life. Some might call it a mid-life crisis, but I call it a pilgrimage and a sabbatical. The pilgrimage has been both a physical journey to a foreign country and a spiritual journey deeper into my own soul. The sabbatical has been a time to pause and reflect on life, to see where I've been and to intentionally look ahead to where I am going - both literally and figuratively.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view on a recent bike ride</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite walks in the park</td></tr>
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Transitions are a common thing in my world, especially when it comes to moving (I didn't get the name Gypsy by accident!). You'd think I'd be comfortable with the whole process by now, but each time I face a transition, it's a new and unique experience. I am getting better at not just enduring the process, but actually embracing and enjoying the ride as part of the greater journey, and yet it is still emotionally and physically exhausting; however, I have found that bike rides, walks in the park, and stopping to enjoy simple beauty all are things that nourish my soul in these times of transition.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy had about 20 friends hanging out on the same lavender bush</td></tr>
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And now, another transition is on the horizon as my time here in France is quickly coming to an end. In light of that, I am doing all that I can to enjoy every moment, to see and do those last few "musts" in France before I leave; to be fully present, enjoying every moment, feeling the mix of emotions that come as I embrace the transition. Yes, I am leaving France. While it has been a unique experience for which I will be forever grateful, I have discovered that Colorado is more <em>home</em> to me than I ever knew, and now I am excited to be returning there this fall! I am looking forward to returning to my community of friends, finding a source of income that is fulfilling and sustainable, acquiring a place to live where I can practice hospitality, and of course rediscovering the beauty of Colorado!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A quiet respite at a friend's house in the mountains of Steamboat Springs</td></tr>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-70279075404412129122015-06-25T09:24:00.000-06:002015-06-25T09:24:39.889-06:00Free Time and a Fresh PerspectiveSometimes we receive the gift of unexpected free time. I recently had such a day and took full advantage of it. The weather was beautiful, I knew I was in need of some alone time, and I was feeling the urge to explore; so I headed into Paris, because sometimes the best place to find solitude is in the midst of a crowd. <br />
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The Biblioteque National de France - the National Library of France - was my destination, based on a recommendation from a friend... a library, a park, and a collection of artisan markets and restaurants. Yes, please!<br />
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The first surprise in my day of exploration was a delightful garden store just outside the metro stop. I spent some time wandering amongst the plants, and found a little organic market inside. They also had a kitchen section full of fabulous cookbooks. I could have spent hours in there, but I also wanted to be outside. I pulled myself away from the shop and walked along the river until I came to the library, where I walked into the courtyard and was speechless.... I felt like I had entered a movie set. <br />
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There is a forest planted in the middle, and when you walk up you are in the tree tops. When I finally found my way inside I was a bit disappointed - it was hot and crowded - not nearly as peaceful as I had hoped, so I went back out to the sun deck and enjoyed the forest a bit. <br />
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Next I headed across the river and walked through Bercy Park on my way to Bercy Village where there is a collection of artisain shops and restaurants. I wandered up and down the aisles soaking in the ambiance of this quaint neighborhood. I found some organic sorbet and enjoyed it in the park - sitting on the grass like a true Parisian. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My view at the park</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rose garden</td></tr>
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Then I found some stuff for a little picnic and headed back to the Library where I had a great view of the Seine river and some nice background music coming from one of the house boat restaurants. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picnic by the river</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Houseboat restaurant</td></tr>
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This was a wonderful day: My thirst for exploration was satisfied and my need for solitude was met. Throughout the day I gained a new perspective not only of Paris but on life, and thus, my soul was refreshed. <br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-51786752120679564212015-06-09T10:32:00.000-06:002015-06-09T10:32:37.281-06:00French MacaronsNot too long ago I discovered the truly amazing, delicious French pastries called Macarons. So, when I made the decision to move to France, one of my "must do's" was to learn to make authentic French macarons. And finally, six months into this adventure it happened! A friend of mine is a pastry chef, and she has a friend who gives classes so, she arranged a private class. Five of us spent two hours learning all of the tips and tricks to make the perfect macarons. <br />
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This was "the real deal" - the class was taught in French, and of course the recipe was in French too! I was too busy having fun to take pictures, but thanks to our great teacher we had a delightful time and ended up with some beautiful and delicious macarons.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They look and taste as good as those from a fancy patisserie </td></tr>
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The next weekend we decided to try out our new skills and make our own batch of macarons. There are a LOT of details to remember, but we managed to put together some pretty good macarons. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Placing the dough on the sheet for baking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost as good as the professionals<br />
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I am thrilled that I finally got to try my hand at making these delicacies, and look forward to perfecting my skills and developing some fun and interesting flavors.</div>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-83051680787021287652015-06-08T10:27:00.003-06:002015-06-08T10:27:33.288-06:00Family Vacation - part 3We had a whirlwind visit of Paris, but in the midst of all of the walking and sight-seeing we did manage to find time for some good food and drinks too! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Louvre, with the Eiffel Tower in the background</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling strong and ready to conquer Paris</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There she is, THE icon of Paris</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On top of the Arc de Triomphe</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheers to a great vacation</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All smiles as we enjoy Paris</td></tr>
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We packed a LOT into a few days, but sure had a lot of fun doing it all. It was a great family vacation, and maybe only the beginning of many more to come!</div>
The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-7570901107062472002015-06-08T10:04:00.001-06:002015-06-08T10:04:41.019-06:00Family Vacation - part 2When we started planning this vacation to Brittany/Normandy, I had one "must see" and that was <a href="http://www.ot-montsaintmichel.com/index.htm?lang=en" target="_blank">Mont Saint Michelle</a>. I was under the mistaken impression that it was a cathedral on an island - when in reality it is a city on an island, topped by a cathedral.<br />
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The streets were narrow and wound around the mountain as they went up to the cathedral. It's amazing to think about the horses and carriages making their way through this city. We poked around a bit, checking out some interesting passageways and then headed out, as we had a long day ahead of us. Next on the agenda were the Landing Beaches and some of the villages which had significant roles in WWII. We went to the town of Bayeux which has a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayeux_Tapestry" target="_blank">famous tapestry</a>. However, after exploring this church we decided to skip the tapestry and head on to the beaches.</div>
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My brother is a history buff and so he had put together the itinerary for this part of the trip. I wasn't sure what to expect at the Landing Beaches, but found them to be beautiful, sobering, and informative.</div>
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I learned way more about history in just a few hours on these beaches then I ever did in any of my history classes. I guess I'm a hands-on learner!</div>
The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-58396882975548843392015-06-08T09:53:00.000-06:002015-06-08T09:53:00.176-06:00Family Vacation - part 1I think I was 16 the last time I went on a family vacation. Sure, I go visit my family because we all live in different states, but I stay at their home and enter into their daily lives. I'm talking about a "real" family vacation with parents and siblings, where you're all traveling somewhere together and staying together for more than a day. <br />
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Being the youngest of five kids, my siblings all moved out by the time I finished high school, and thus family vacations no longer happened. And now that we are all scattered around the country (or at the moment the world) and there are more than 20 of us with nieces, nephews and significant others, we just don't do family vacations. <br />
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However, I recently had the pleasure of having some of my family come visit me here in France and then we went on a real family vacation! We rented a car and drove out to Normandy for a few days and then spent a couple of days in Paris.<br />
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We had a grand adventure together - my dad, my oldest brother and his significant other. In France, WiFi is not nearly as prevalent as it is in the US, so we were navigating without GPS or a good map; nevertheless, Linda did an awesome job of getting us where we wanted to go. Warren was our chauffeur for the trip and had nerves of steal while circling the roundabouts and navigating Paris traffic. I was the translator for the trip and Dad was just along for the ride!<br />
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First stop, <a href="http://www.saint-malo-tourisme.com/" target="_blank">Saint Malo,</a> which was purely an accident. As we were trying to find our way to Cancale for fresh oysters we stumbled upon this stunning medieval city. My pictures don't really capture the impressive magnitude of this walled city - it was so compact and dense that it was difficult to get the necessary perspective.<br />
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After a few hours of exploring, we were back on the road headed to Cancale, and once we arrived we walked the length of the city until we eventually found THE oyster stand that the guide book recommended. Unfortunately, we found them just as the skies opened up and the rain came pouring down, but that didn't stop us from huddling under an awning and slurping up our fresh oysters! We enjoyed a delicious dinner at a little restaurant on the seashore and then we were back on the road to find a place to stay for the night. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The village of Cancale</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fresh oysters!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oyster stand</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pier at Cancale</td></tr>
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You see, we are all adventurous and free-spirited, and so we had chosen not to make hotel reservations so that we could be free to roam about and explore, and then to land wherever the wind blew us. That night, it was getting late and we were still driving around in the vast countryside looking for a place to stay. I think we were all beginning to regret our decision to not have a reservation when we happened upon a tiny village with a fabulous little hotel. The price was reasonable, the rooms were clean, the people were kind, and breakfast was superb! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my room</td></tr>
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Our first day of family vacation ended well and after a good night's sleep we were ready for our next adventure. </div>
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-25622040499724372602015-05-22T14:08:00.000-06:002015-05-23T01:34:44.184-06:00Pursuing our dreams isn't always easyToday I am tired. The sort of tired that is bone-deep, soul-weary, and simply exhausted. There's no real <em>reason</em> for this, and I feel guilty for even saying it because I'm here in France, "living my dream". However, the reality is, it's sometimes hard to pursue our dreams. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some things require all of our given graces....patience, risk, balance, intention, spirit, love<br />
Card by Curly Girl Design</td></tr>
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Today I don't want to be brave or courageous or adventurous. I don't want to learn new things or be stretched or challenged. I long for the comfort of the familiar, the routine..... and yet I know that is the weariness talking, and while I feel disheartened at this moment, I know that this is exactly where I am supposed to be, because underlying the weariness is a deep sense of peace and joy. I know that I continue to grow into a more whole person, more authentic to who I was created to be. I am letting go a little more and letting life happen, rather than trying to tell life how to be and what to do. Parker Palmer has said <em>"the life I am living is not the same as the life that wants to live in me..... running beneath the surface of the experience I call my life, there is a deeper and truer life waiting to be acknowledged."</em> At this moment my goal is to be still and listen for the truer life, to hear my soul and to live more fully; and in doing so, my hope is to then companion others on their journey of discovering a truer life.<br />
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On this adventure I hope that I am becoming a better communicator as I continue to learn not only a new language but a new culture; however, I miss the ease of communicating in my native language. I realize that I often took for granted the ability to express myself. I could effortlessly use words to relate with people. Now I am forced to find new ways of relating when I don't have the vocabulary to express myself, or to simply be still and listen and say nothing at all.<br />
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I am so very grateful for my new friends, those who have embraced me and welcomed me into their lives for this season, and we are now living in the present together creating history which will forever change who I am and how I engage the world; yet I miss the ease of friendship that comes only with time, the comfort of being with friends who have already lived through some history with me.<br />
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I have these two cards that beautifully capture this part of my journey. The one on the right I found at my favorite boutique near Denver just before I moved. It expresses a sentiment that inspires me and reminds me that this journey I am on is not just about me, but it involves a lot of other people that I get the privilege of meeting and being a part of their journey. The one on the left I found at a street market in Paris, and it creatively depicts my spirit of adventure. It is also a visual representation of the statement on the other card, "We each have a light, our adventure is finding which paths to brighten." <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We each have a light, our adventure is finding which paths to brighten<br />
Cards by Curly Girl Designs and Gaelle Boissonnard </td></tr>
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And so I sit here in my weariness and I am humbled and thankful for this life I get to live. I am grateful for you, my family and friends - both new and old, who are on this journey with me. I couldn't do it alone and I am beholden to you, encouraged by your presence in my life.<br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-26076900815650349632015-04-28T07:39:00.000-06:002015-05-03T08:45:20.537-06:00Holland in the Spring is SpectacularI recently found myself with a couple of free days and decided it was time for another little adventure. I was torn between exploring somewhere new or returning to Holland to visit a dear friend and see the famous tulips - I chose Holland, and am very glad that I did. It was a sunny weekend full of delicious food, good conversations, and beautiful things.<br />
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We went to this quaint fishing village on the harbor where they still have beautiful, old wooden fishing boats. There was an open-air market, and it was here that I got to have my first hot and fresh stroopwafle, which was delicious! I picked up some fresh red currants as we strolled through the market, and that afternoon made a pear-currant pie.<br />
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The next day we arrived at the <a href="http://www.keukenhof.nl/en/" target="_blank">Kuekenhof Gardens</a> bright and early. The flowers were far above and beyond anything I had imagined. Having lived in the Skagit Valley for many years, I have seen my fair share of tulip fields, but these display gardens were truly amazing. They were filled with every color and shape imaginable and the theme of the gardens this year is Van Gogh. We saw so much beauty in the three hours we walked through the gardens, and yet there was still much more to see. However, the crowds were growing thicker by the minute, so we headed off to the seashore for the afternoon.<br />
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They say that we are either a mountain person or an ocean person - I'm not sure why we have to choose one or the other, but I have long contended that I am a mountain person, and yet, there is something about being in the presence of the ocean that is empowering and freeing. I think that the mountains will always be "home" for me, but the ocean lures me into a state of relaxation that offers true rest, and my soul opens up to new possibilities. And thus, my first visit to the North Sea was a very pleasant surprise. A bonus to an already delightful day. <br />
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This trip helped me reconcile with a part of who I am... for as long as I can remember I have preferred my world to be neat and orderly (you can ask my family about this). In general, I think this is a good character trait; however, over the years this has been ridiculed by some and exploited by others. As a reaction to this, I have tried to hide and deny this character trait, only to have it become distorted into some unhealthy control issues when I am struggling to find order in the midst of chaos. However, little-by-little I have been rediscovering the beauty and strength of this character trait. This was affirmed for me when I was wondering why I like Holland so much, and I realized that the country is neat and orderly, clean and tidy. This place was reflecting back to me part of who I am. This year abroad I am learning that I can survive amidst chaos and live in the midst of messiness, but I thrive in the presence of orderliness and natural beauty.<br />
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The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-87982408219422615552015-04-06T12:31:00.001-06:002015-04-28T07:41:03.972-06:00Love at First Sight!As I was preparing to move to France, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I looked at the map and read a few websites, but everything was such a whirlwind, I didn't have much time for research. I tried not to have too many expectations, but one of the images I had was of me riding a bike around a little French village, and that image was something like this picture that a friend sent me several years ago. She took this in Sequim, WA, but it always made me think of the lavender fields in the south of France. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out <a href="http://www.aseyeseeitphotography.com/-/aseyeseeitphotography/" target="_blank">As Eye See It</a> for more of her photos</td></tr>
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Spring has finally started to arrive here and I've been getting the itch to be on a bike. A colleague recommended the website "Leboncoin" - the French Craigslist, and so I started looking for bikes. Now mind you, I've never actually bought or sold anything on Craigslist because I've always thought it was too much of a hassle, too uncertain, and honestly... I was a little intimidated by the whole process. However, now that I'm living in a foreign country, somehow I have become bold and brave in a whole new way. <br />
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I found a bike that I liked and it was in my price range, and so I decided I'd contact the seller. I chose to send an email, because talking on the phone in French is just hard. Several days went by and I didn't hear anything, so I assumed either my email didn't make sense or they had already sold the bike. However, much to my surprise, I received an email asking me to call to make arrangements for me to see the bike. Eeekk! Now I had to actually talk on the phone. While learning French, I have relied heavily on body language, situational cues and my general intuition to help decipher what's being said. When you're talking on the phone, you don't get any of this, it's all in the language. So before I could chicken out, I called and talked with the woman who had advertised the bike. It went fairly well and we made arrangements for me to see the bike the next day at her mother's house. I was so excited at the prospect of getting a bike, I looked up all of the vocabulary for the various bike parts and then set off for the rendezvous. I was greeted by this delightful French woman who invited me in for tea, showed me pictures of her daughters and told me stories about her grandkids. Eventually we made it to the garage and..... it was love at first sight! </div>
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It was exactly what I had hoped for; however, as I took it for a test ride, I discovered that the back tire was flat. She was so apologetic, she insisted that I leave the bike there and she would get the tire fixed. I returned the next day and not only had she fixed the tire, but she reduced the price AND gave me a lock! I rode home with a huge grin on my face and wings on my soul.<br />
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Not only did I get a great bike, but I had this empowering experience of completing the entire transaction in French, all by myself - emails, phone calls, texts, and the in-person negotiations, along with afternoon tea and an invite to return for dinner!</div>
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I'm thinking a basket for my baguettes and picnic supplies will make this the perfect bike for the rest of my time in France. </div>
The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5544255546788482041.post-43904668135061623982015-03-29T11:27:00.001-06:002015-03-29T11:27:26.737-06:00Baking from scratch isn't always necessaryAt home, I <em>never </em>use a box mix to bake something.... it just doesn't feel like baking. It feels like cheating. It's not from "scratch", and you can definitely taste the difference. Yes, I'm a bit of a baking snob. So for me, if I don't have the time to bake from scratch, I just use that as an excuse to go visit one of my favorite local bakers! <br />
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Here in France I'm living in the dorms at school and using a community kitchen for some of my baking escapades. It's rather challenging for SO many reasons - for instance, we only have one mixing bowl in the entire kitchen. Sometimes there are no spoons. There is no electric mixer or hand mixer. There's no hot water from the tap, so if hot water is needed, it has to be boiled. There is an oven, sort of.... it's actually a miniature countertop oven, or an over-sized toaster oven. Although originally I thought I would not be able to bake here, with a little creativity I've been able to make it work, and I've discovered that a standard size pie plate <em>just </em>fits!<br />
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This week I was having a chocolate craving and a longing for some time in the kitchen, but I wasn't up for the challenges of international baking, so I indulged in a box mix..... and it was GOOD! I was pretty skeptical when I saw the <em>paper </em>baking pan that came in the box, which was in two pieces and required some assembly, but amazingly it worked great. One bowl, some water, and a couple of eggs was all I needed. Quick and easy.... and delicious!<br />
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A few days later I was still (or yet again) craving chocolate, and remembered a recipe I'd found for some chocolate <em>cookies</em>. I use that word loosely because they turned out more like chocolate truffles or bonbons, rather than a traditional cookie.They are Brazilian Brigadeiro, and with only three ingredients and no actual baking, they were SUPER easy, and perfect for my kitchen situation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plain sugar for some, Speculoos cookie crumbs for the others</td></tr>
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So, I'm learning to admit my prejudices against boxed baking mixes, and am letting go of some of my preconceived notions about baking. I am embracing the convenience of boxed mixes, and "baking" cookies that don't actually require baking. And through this process I am experiencing a little more freedom and a lot more goodness in my life!The Baking Gypsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15918393928483224937noreply@blogger.com0