A perfect date...

     Today after a slow morning and much apprehension as to what we all wanted to do we decided the kids needed some down time from sightseeing. They begged to stay at the eurocamp and just swim and play miniature golf here at the campground. It's this small safe little German town and so we decided it was a good place we could take off for a few hours on our own. We packed our picnic baskets and headed out. We found ourselves in some random nearby village in France. We are right next to the border so we can cross over from Germany to France and sadly not understand what the people from either place are saying. On our drive we saw a steeple from a church in the distance so that is how we picked the place to stop. We crossed over a canal and spied the perfect picnic location just under the bridge lay a perfect grassy area with a wooden bench built right on the water overlooking the fairy tale village with  400 year old wooden shudders and flower boxes and crooked wavy roofs. We sat by the water eating cheese we brought from luxembourge. Stinky cheese that smelled like dirty socks,but hey sometimes stinky cheese is the best. Unfortunately it tasted like stinky socks and left an aftertaste reminiscent of swallowing a rotten curdled ball of milk that fermented in a boys jock strap. Fortunately we had salami ,bread and of course my cherry brandy to help my cold. We wandered around the town in awe of the architecture with so many interesting things to gaze at. It was Sunday ,so most shops were closed and the only people were sitting in the cafés enjoying the nice sunny day and cool breeze. We wandered following the peak of the church steeple. We came upon a quiet empty street and were blessed with the most beautiful romantic accordion music playing. The sound was coming from above the street out of one of the barely ajar window shutters. Jimmie asked me to dance. I wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. . So there we were slowly dancing in a nameless town in a France ,on a nameless street ,dancing softly to the most angelic music coming from a nameless face. I felt his whiskers on my cheek and my whole body melted like ice cream laying in the sun. I married him when I was 18. People Have asked me , was I really in love? I don't know. Can you be in love at 18? I can tell you now 23 years later I am madly in love with my best friend. It's moments like this that make life worth living. Moments that if I was trapped under some massive building and fighting for my last breath that I would close my eyes and take myself back too. A moment like this makes a life worth living. 

    When we came back ,the boys were exactly where we left them. Still running up and down the ladder and cannon balling off the diving board. I went up to the trailer and they all came in laughing smiling and happy. They are becoming such great friends in less than two weeks. It's awesome to watch it happening. Jim told me today he overheard a really sweet apology from one to the other over something that happened some time ago. He didn't know what. He wisely didn't ask. Would this have happened at home? I doubt it. 

   Tonight I cooked that black forest ham and the potatoes and asparagus for dinner. Cole said prayer and he thanked Jehovah for this time together and how everyone is getting along and for the sweet brothers and sisters at the Kingdom Hall who were so kind and loving. Does that not melt your heart?  Before I served the ham I told the boys this is a really special ham and probably the best they will ever have. This came from the Black Forest where pigs live a happy life and we paid a decent chunk so don't waste any pieces. Brock dove in first. 

 " hmmm this is really salty mom"

Obviously poor kid has no taste.

 Tristan a few moments later" wow this is really salty"

Ghee have these kids never tasted salt or something? imbusules wouldn't know a delicacie if it jumped up and bit them in the nose.

Jim bit in. Next thing I know he's puking in the grass. He has some weird aspohagus problem so surely that's what causing him to puke.

I taste it. OMG!!! I'm not sure what we bought, but you may as we'll have gone down to the horse stable and licked a salt lick. 

 This totally brought me back to when I was 14. My parents insisted on spending all of our free time in a tiny coastal town in Oregon. By the time I was a teenager I didn't like it at all. I was bored to tears and had no friends my age there. This is how I developed a love of cooking. The one thing I enjoyed was picking blackberries. You could spend hours picking wild fresh sweet plump berries. I decided I would learn how to make blackberry pie. I combed through moms cook books and read all the detailed instructions on how to make the perfect crust. You can't let your fingers get to warm you know because they will melt the butter when your kneading the dough and you won't end up with flaky crust. So I chilled my water in the freezer and stuck my fingers in the ice to ensure a perfect crust. I invited my grandparents to come for my tasty creation. It came out of the oven looking perfect. I was proud . It was the most decatent pie I'd ever laid my eyes on. I watched proudly as my grandfather took his first bite. I was surprised when , rather than shower me the expected praise, he twisted and turned his face and hurled the perfect pie back on to his plate. Apparently I had used pickling salt instead of sugar in the recipe. Whoops.   So sometimes things don't go as planned. What Can you do? 

   As I write this ,breaking to blow my nose, the boys and their dad are having a fantastic game of baseball gone wild outside. Pretty great. What a good way to end the night.