We Interrupt this Program to Bring You an Important Update...

In a fit of over-generosity, I agreed to teach my mother's class of 10-11-year-olds at church today whilst she is off playing grandma.  Actually I believe she has banished the term Grandma in favor of Noni.  At any rate, not only did I agree to do this but I attempted to make it fun.  It must have been inspiration because almost as soon as I started trying to come up with something, I immediately realized that the facts and important points of the story about Ruth and Naomi could best be taught in the form of Jeopardy.  Therefore, I went to church armed with what I deemed a plethora of "answers" regarding the aforementioned story.

I need to pause this story for a moment to mention that I have only stayed for more than the first meeting of our church services a handful of times this summer, due to the fact that I generally hoped to be able to Skype or in some other manner communicate with Indy whilst he is out seeking treasures in Egypt.  I also would like to mention that I have not heard from said husband in approximately 4 days because he was on the adventure of his life out camping with the Bedouins the past few days.  (For some reason they just can't get good cell coverage or internet out there...)

So we were well on our way to a fairly successful game of team Jeopardy (boys against girls, naturally) and you will now understand my surprise and the irony that in the throws of our game, my phone began to buzz and I recognized the international cell number Indy has.  It's a really good thing I had managed to talk Megara into coming to class with me and being my official timer.  That meant I could say, "Here, take the game!" and run out into the hallway instead of, "Kids, don't kill each other or burn anything down, I'll be back!"  Which definitely would have happened.

After running out into the hallway and finally hearing Indy's voice for the first time in a week, I asked how he liked his trip.  After using every adjective from incredible to amazing, he gave me a brief summation of his activities, including, but not limited to:

• Sand dune surfing (I don't yet understand how this works)
• Playing in an oasis
• And bug-hunting until 3 a.m.

Yes, bug-hunting.  I'm still waiting to hear more on what that entails myself.  And what are considered to be the more desirable qualities of bug quarry.  Juiciness?  Crunchiness?  Color?  I'll let you know when I find out.

Paris: Volume II, Montfort-l'Amaury

Our first weekend in Paris, our pack of musicians climbed aboard a bus and headed outside of Paris to the charming village of Montfort-l'Amaury. There we climbed the hill to a charming castle and view and I have pictures to prove it.

We most definitely climbed on the ruins:

And it was definitely worth the climb:

Then we spent a good chunk of time listening to Nicole's reasons that the castle was not from the time period that our program director told us it was.  (Nicole then later confirmed that her own reasoning was, in fact, correct.)  But we also gallivanted around the outer castle wall and took cheesy pictures:

Then we wandered around the town and Nicole and I found this fantastic automobile that might have come home with us if it would have fit in our luggage or if it weren't for the grand theft auto thing...

She would have made a great model on the Price Is Right, wouldn't she?  Do you want the fabulous red motorcar or would you like to see what is behind door #2?

Then we went to Ravel's house where we got our own private tours.  Ravel was extremely short, as you can tell from the bed:

He had a ton of children's toys, dress prints from the 19th century, a cool piano, and loverly gardens:

And suddenly I wanted a little house in the French countryside.

But this was before we visited Versailles and Marie Antoinette's village... stay tuned!

Ah, Paris...

About this time last year I was still extremely jetlagged, but just beginning to explore Paris!  While I fondly remember those times of enduring the RER B, the crazy lady at the metro, and saving Amber from herself, I will take you on a picture tour of my journey.  First, this was the view outside my window:

Feel free to be jealous.  If I had a picture of the room I lived in, you would definitely be less so.
It took me far too long to find my room once I got there.  In fact, if I hadn't *happened* to be on the same flight as my professor who speaks French, who knows if I ever would have managed to buy a metro ticket and make it to the Cite Universaire at all.  Once I did get there I realized I had left the paper with my housing info back in the States... crap.  So I went to the only building whose name rang a bell - the Spanish house.  Unfortunately for me, the gentleman behind the desk there only spoke French and Spanish.  After a very frustrating conversation (or lack thereof) he made a phonecall and then kept making wild hand gestures while saying, "Avec *raaaaaah*, avec *raaaaaah*."  Once we finally found someone to translate, it turned out he was trying to communicate the presence of ugly gargoyles at the Cambodia house where I was supposed to be.  When Amber finally arrived the next day, I started talking incessantly until we shoved food in my mouth:

All in all, the Cite was a lovely place to stay, despite the lack of food options or even vending machines, the horribly understocked/undersized kitchens, the tiny laundry facilities that barely worked, and the shower that consisted of a hole in the wall that sprayed down the toilet and the sink and if you worked at it, you too.  But it was lovely:

And a bonus, the shorties at Notre Dame:

Stay tuned, next time we visit Maurice Ravel's village.

A bientot...

Congratulations Dallin!!!!

I would like to take this moment to congratulate a dear friend and the brother of my best friend, Dallin!!!!!  He is beginning the great adventure of matrimony today, and I can't think of anybody who deserves it more!  (I mean that in all of the positive ways, seriously.)  So in honor of him, I'm posting this, my favorite picture of him from him sister's wedding, Dallin the Towel-Swinging Cowboy:

Sisters, Sisters

I feel bad for girls that don't have sisters.  Especially sisters their age.  Or I just adopt them, like my crazy best friend.  Then again I guess not all girls get along with their sisters.  I just happened to have been born into a family with built-in best friends, my two amazazing sisters.  There's Mary Jane Watson, with her Spiderman:

Then there's Megara, my sassy little self-sustained, incredibly intelligent cowgirl, who now has her own blog: thetexascowgirlmd.blogspot.com!!!!!  Ain't she adorable?

She's available, btw. ;)
But only if I approve of you.

Dilbert

Dilbert, the fountain of truth.  It speaks for itself:



BTW, half the fun of reading Dilbert cartoons online is the geek chat that goes on in the comments.  Warms my heart. :)

Arabic Graffiti

Indy has been in Egypt for exactly 6 weeks.  In this time I have received somewhat consistent sporadic emails, a handful of phonecalls, and been able to Skype approximately 3 times.  He has sent a total of 8 pictures I believe, only 3 of which have included himself.  The most recent addition to my collection came today:

It's Arabic graffiti.  I don't get to see my husband and he sends me a picture of Arabic graffiti.  Sigh.