Preparing for Easter

Easter season has officially kicked off for us with the annual company Easter celebration. We cut it close but made it just in time to participate in the egg hunt, and soon the boys were just two of over a hundred kids scrambling to pick up a basketful of eggs. We had great weather, played our share of games, ate a lunch of popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs and chips, saw the Easter Bunny & Bibendum, checked out the rides and finished everything off with popsicles and balloon art.

Today friends are coming over to join us in coloring eggs the traditional Latvian way, with onion skins. Here are the links to the posts you need to make your very own Latvian Easter eggs:

Œufs blancs – the onion skin method

Natural Easter eggs – the red cabbage method

And don’t forget to pick up the farmer’s cheese for the Easter paska! (This post also covers many of the traditional Latvian Easter traditions)

Joyeux Pâques! – my grandmother’s paska recipe 

A nice way to remember the Easters we spent in France is by incorporating some of the French traditions into our holiday here in the US.

Lieldienas, Easter, Pâques (or a Frenmericvian Easter)

I have one week to procure pussy willow branches for Palm Sunday; I wrote about this Latvian tradition in my post I forgot, again! about Latvian Palm Sunday, Pūpolu svētdiena.

I wish everyone luck in beginning your Easter preparations! 

Kicking off the month with cake and football

Along with the beginning of February came a slew of holidays and other occasions, ruining the image of control I had at the end of January, seeming to sneak up on me as it does every year. Luckily I didn’t have to worry about the big events which caught me off guard in Clermont-Ferrand; the short film festival and wine weekend at the Vinidome (which we usually missed anyway during our years in France) or the big rugby game in which France emerged victorious against England in the RBS 6 nations. But I also missed jour des crêpes, the French tradition of a day of crêpes that we had managed to keep since moving back from France. The good news is that there were a dozen other things to observe and celebrate!

With the passing of the Chinese New Year we have entered into the year of the horse, and who cares that Punxsutawney Phil has predicted six more weeks of winter (a few days ago on Groundhog Day), we have been immersed in a birthday celebration! Our youngest marked his second birthday on January 29^th, and Sunday we had a few friends over to celebrate. The bar had been set high as on Lauris’s second birthday dessert consisted of the train cake, but we managed a completely relaxed weekend while still marking this milestone in proper jubilārs vēlās fashion. While discussing possible cakes with Mikus I received a few pointers: mašīna, policija and pikaps (car, police and pickup truck). The result was this cake, for which I used Martha’s one bowl chocolate cake recipe and a vanilla buttercream icing, mixed with some food coloring for the accents.

The weather has warmed considerably since the giant snow storm, and we spent the warmest hours of the day outside. Our guests brought a science experiment, and luckily no one got too sticky during the Mentos-Coke explosion. We soaked up the mid-60˚ temps before heading inside for a chili dinner and the Super Bowl, complete with a bacon-cheese dip and plenty of chips and guacamole, as required by this American holiday centered around food, friends and football.

Of course now we can turn our attention to Sochi for the Winter Olympics. We’ll definitely tune in to watch the opening ceremonies Friday, and despite all the controversy on Russia’s preparation for these games, we are excited to support the Latvian men’s hockey team. They will be taking the ice next Wednesday, so now it is just a matter of rounding up the local Latvians and figuring out how to watch the game….

Galette des rois - king cake!

Priecīgu zvaigznes dienu! We celebrated with a galette des rois, or “king cake” yesterday, as our guests are departing today for the cold and snowy north. Traditionally made to celebrate the Feast of Epiphany, the cake is popular in France during the holidays and was added to the list of family traditions during our time overseas. Some might associate galette des rois with New Orleans, where it was introduced by French and Spanish colonists and is enjoyed during Carnival, however in France it is served only several days before and after Epiphany.

As I explained in a previous post on this yummy dessert, there is a small figurine or trinket (the fève) baked into the cake – traditionally this item was a bean. The lucky person who gets the slice containing the fève is named king or queen for the day. Or, in our case, the fève remains in the uneaten portion and we get to try again the following day!

To prevent favoritism, the youngest member of the family sits under the table and calls out which person gets each slice, so that the person serving the cake cannot pass the slice with the fève knowingly to a certain person.

In Provence the King Cake is gâteau des Rois, made of brioche and candied fruits, whereas the rest of the country traditionally celebrates with the puff pastry and frangipane that we enjoyed. The recipe calls for almond meal to make the frangipane, but I have used almond flour (not as finely ground and available in many health food stores including Trader Joe's) and also almond butter (Whole Foods has a grind-your-own peanut butter section, that grinds roasted almonds without any additives).

I highly recommend taking the leftover puff pastry dough (the result of trimming the corners to make circles) and making little pīrāgi with Nutella inside. I put mine on the same pan as the king cake, and although a few burst open while baking, they were delicious.

To celebrate Epiphany with your very own king cake, you can either head to your local French bakery or follow this easy recipe, a variation on a recipe given to me by a friend in France that utilizes pre-made puff pastry that you can find in the frozen desserts section at your local grocery store. David Lebovitz just posted a delicious galette des rois recipe on his blog, but if you are looking for something simpler without the orange flower water and zest, try this. Don’t forget to remind your guests there is a fève hidden in the cake!

La galette des rois (king cake)

Ingredients:

1 package puff pastry, thawed

½ cup ground almond meal

¼ cup granulated sugar

1 egg

3 tablespoons butter, softened

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon all purpose flour

1 fève or fava bean (optional)

1 egg, beaten

1. Preheat oven to 425˚ F

2. Combine the almond meal, sugar, 1 egg, butter, vanilla extract and flour to form a smooth paste.

3. Roll out the puff pastry and cut out two large circles. Place one on a non-stick pan, and on it spread the frangipane mixture in an even layer, leaving a one inch border around the edge of the dough.

4. Hide the fève in the almond filling, and then place the second pastry circle on top, smoothing the air out from under. Press down firmly along the outer border to seal the two layers. Make a small hole in the middle of the galette so that the cake does not swell too much when cooking, and using the tip of a knife cut small slits into the top layer around the edge of the cake. Traditional galette des rois have a design etched into the top…

5. Beat the remaining egg, and brush over the top of the cake. Bake for 25-30 minutes until golden brown.

6. Allow the cake to cool for 20 minutes on the baking sheet before transferring to a cooling rack.

Serve with coffee and a crown!

Bastille Day brunch at the Passerelle Bistro

Celebrating La Fête Nationale (Bastille Day) in France the last few years has spoiled me forever; the longing for a crusty baguette, a good smelly cheese, saucisson sec and a glass of rosé wine is especially strong on this holiday. Despite being back in the US we decided to celebrate the birthplace of my son Mikus properly (and with rosé) – with brunch at Passerelle Bistro, the new French place in town.

 

Right on the Reedy River, overlooking the falls from what formerly was Overlook Grill, the restaurant has an ideal location. Passerelle is the French word for footbridge, and as the Liberty Bridge is just a few steps away the name is quite appropriate. We had reservations and so were quickly seated in the outside patio area; luckily there was still space under the awning, as it rained on and off the whole morning and the seating under the umbrellas looked to be a bit wet.

 

The brunch menu was heavily French-influenced, and while several options looked good I finally chose the moules Basquaise, with chorizo, peppers and herbs. Roberts chose the Benedict Passerelle with ham, fries and hollandaise, and the boys split a croque monsieur, a grilled ham & Gruyère on sourdough bread topped with Mornay sauce that also came with fries. The service was professional (although the tab was incorrectly calculated), and the kids were warmly welcomed; a great Falls Park coloring book was immediately provided, water came in spill-proof cups and splitting a dish was absolutely no problem.

 

The rest of my experience just didn’t have that viva la France! feel. The mussels didn’t have the chorizo kick I expected, and although they weren’t bad, I’ve had better. The boys' croque monsieur tasted just like I remember from France, but then came the highly recommended profiteroles – light cream puffs, black raspberry ice cream and chocolate sauce. The “light” cream puffs were heavy and tasteless, the chocolate sauce not enough to make them edible. We finished off the ice cream but I wish I would have stuck with my gut and ordered the crème brûlée, maybe the experience would have left a better taste in my mouth.

 

The next time we have company in town we might try Passerelle Bistro for dinner, as the scenery is a major plus especially for showing off Falls Park. However my palate has been spoiled by the real thing, and the French-influenced brunch menu just didn’t impress me.

 

 

As the drizzle let up for a few minutes we crossed to the other side of the river farther upstream, and got to the old mayonnaise factory (now Wyche Pavilion) just before a downpour. The two-story brick paint shop was built by J.E. Sirrine in 1904 for the Greenville Coach Factory, but was sold in 1911 to Duke's mayonnaise. Now it is a beautiful spot for a wedding, catered by Larkins on the River just next door, and the ideal spot to wait out the rain (when there isn’t a wedding reception taking place). It turns out we need not have bothered, as the boys both managed to get soaked before returning to their car…

Fête de la Musique

Happy Jāņi! Today is the Latvian name day of Jānis and Žanis. The name day tradition is celebrated in many countries, Latvia and France among them, and consists of celebrating the day of the year associated with one's given name.

In France, today is the Fête de la Saint-Jean (feast of St. John), which is traditionally celebrated with bonfires (le feu de la Saint-Jean). It is believed that the bonfire rites go back to the pagan rituals of Midsummer’s night, although today the catholic festival is in celebration of Saint John the Baptist. One source reports that in medieval times, this festival was celebrated with cat-burning rituals. Thankfully there will be no cat-burning in Clermont-Ferrand, but sadly I don’t know of a bonfire occurring here either.

A fête which was celebrated here in Clermont was the Fête de la Musique, also known as World Music Day. The music festival took place on June 21^st and has an interesting history that binds the Americans and the French in yet another way. In 1976 American musician Joel Cohen proposed an all-night music celebration in France to mark the beginning of the summer solstice. It was first realized in 1982 in Paris, and has since spread to 32 countries worldwide. 

In Clermont-Ferrand the streets were full of amateur and professional musicians. There were concerts and unorganized jams, all for free. The noise and crowds weren’t the most child-friendly and so we mostly enjoyed the festivities from our window, watching the people on their way to and from Place de Jaude and listening to strains of music floating our way now and then.

The celebrations took a different twist later on that night, as revelers returning home kept us awake with yelling and honking until well after midnight, but as it was all in the name of music (and you’re not supposed to sleep on Jāņu night anyways) I didn’t get too upset. I only wish Mikus had gotten the memo about sleeping in…

Laurim divi gadi - Lauris is two!

For English, please see below

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Lieli notikumi šeit Francijā! Jauns prezidents ievēlēts; 51,63% nobalsoja par socialistu François Hollande, un 48,37% par Nicolas Sarkozy. Tad vēl, maija brīvdienas nozīmē kad liela daļa no Francijas atvaļinājumā (vismaz tā liekas); 1. maijs, Fête du Travail vai Labor day, 8. maijs bija Victoire 1945 atzīmēt otrā pasaules kaŗa beigas Eiropā, 17. maijā būs Ascension (par kuŗu rakstiju arī pagāšgad), un beidzot 28. Lundi de Pentecôte, pirmdiena pēc Pentecost. Frančiem arī patīk faire le pont, būvēt tiltus (ar brīvdienām), un tā arī 30. aprilī, 7. un 18. maijā ņem brīvdienas. Bet vislielākais notikums, Laurim šodien divi gadi. Manam mīļam Laurim novēlu daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā!!! Nevaru ticēt, ka divi gadi jau pagājuši (liekās kā divpadsmit!).

Nesen man jautāja, vai dzīve Francijā patiešām tik varena un rožaina cik tā izklausās lasot manu blogu. Bija jāpadomā, jo pagatnē esmu sūdzējusies par to, ka cilvēki rāda fasādi savos blogos un nestāsta par „īsto dzīvi”. Vai es neesmu arī vainīga, apslēpjot tās nepatīkamās lietas kuŗas mums kādreiz notiek? Tomēr rakstu šo dienas grāmatu lai nākotnē varētu atcerēties visus piedzīvojumus, visas vietas kuŗas apciemojām, visus cilvēkus kuŗus satikām. Varu droši teikt, ka negribēšu lasīt par tantrumiem kuŗi Laurim bija, par tām reizēm kad Mikus visu nakti raudāja, par tām dienām kad desmit reizes pārģērbos jo viens vai otrs bērns mani apšpļakstija ar sulu, uz manīm atspļāvās, uzvēma, utt, jo tos brīžus tagad jau labprāt aizmirstu. Es (un cerams Lauris un Mikus) vēlēšos lasīt par mūsu ceļojumu uz Amsterdamu un Briseli (par kuŗu rakstīšu nākam nedēļ), par draugiem kuŗi mums rīt brauc ciemos, par vecmātes ciemošanos nākamās nedēļas, un par Lauŗa 2. dzimšanas dienas viesībām.

Un tā arī ielūdzu jūs atpakaļ nākamās nedēļās dzirdēt kā izdevās viesības ar 12 maziem bērniem un vilciena kūku. Palasīt par mūsu ceļojumu redzēt Hollandes tulpes un Manneken Pis, kā arī izbraukāt Petit Suisse Luxembourgeoise. Un uz brīdi aizmirst tās ikdienas ķibeles un raizes kas mūs tik bieži nomāc, jo tomēr pasaulē tik daudz vietas kuŗas redzēt, draugi vēl nesatikti un gudrības ko iegūt.

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Big month here in France! A new president was elected in the runoff elections Sunday; the socialist candidate François Hollande received 51.63% of the vote while incumbent Nicolas Sarkozy received only 48.37%. May also means the country is on holiday half the month; May 1^st was Fête du Travail (or Labor day), May 8^th was Victoire 1945 to commemorate the end of WWII in Europe, May 17^th is Ascension, and finally the 28^th is Lundi de Pentecôte, or the Monday after Pentecost. Of course since the French like to faire le pont, (meaning to build bridges, a phrase commonly used to describe the practice of taking the Monday/Friday off to extend a holiday that falls on a Tuesday or Thursday into a 4-day weekend), April 30^th and May 7^th & 18^th were also “holidays”. However the biggest event for us is Lauris’s second birthday, today! I can not believe two years have already passed (feels like twenty…).

Not long ago someone asked me how life in France really is – it can’t be only the exciting travel and wonderful experiences I write about. This got me thinking, as I’ve often complained that people will present a totally false façade, pretending the gritty/boring/painful never happens to them. For example, some new moms only talk about the wonders that parenthood brings, how they’ve never been happier and brag how the little screaming bundle of joy in their arms is already sleeping through the night. Am I guilty of this as well? I rarely discuss the difficulties and trials we face here in France, not just with parenting, but with life so far away from family and the familiar, dealing with the minutiae of life in a foreign language. I’ve decided that I am not, as this diary of our travels and adventures is meant to serve as a reminder of all the wonderful things and people we saw, experienced and met. I’m sure that I will not want to read about the tantrums, the sleepless nights and the days I change outfits ten times, although I don’t pretend these things never happen to me (see posts here and here). It is comforting to hear that I’m not the only one going through the trials of parenting or of being an expat, but in twenty years hopefully my children and I will want to instead read about our trip to Amsterdam and Brussels (which you may hear about next week), about the friends coming to visit tomorrow, about the weeks the boys’ grandmother will be joining us, and about the birthday party for our brand new toddler.

So I invite you to stop by these next few weeks to hear about how the party with 12 children and a train cake turned out. To read about our trip to see  the tulips and Manneken Pis, and our drive through Petit Suisse Luxembourgeoise. To forget about the rough days we all have and the hardships we must often face, because the world is full of places to explore and friends we haven’t met yet.

"Mom, stop! You're getting way too corny!"

Happy birthday Laurīt, daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā.

Joyeux Pâques!

Easter turned out a little different last year; Roberts’s brother and Indra came to visit us on our first major holiday away from family, but in lieu of the Easter bunny, colored eggs and a big Easter Sunday meal we had the Gorges du Tarn, Puy de Dôme and the marché de potiers in nearby Gouttieres. I was somewhat disappointed in myself for not being able to continue any of the Easter traditions I had grown up with other than olu sišanās (or egg wars, you can read about this custom here, but resolved to try again this year.

With our visitors last year

The last week of Lent (Holy Week) for Latvians is called klusā nedēļa, with pūpolu svētdiena (which I explain in this previous post), zaļā ceturtdiena ("green" Thursday), lielā piektdiena ("big" Friday) and Easter Sunday. Some of the older pagan spring rituals to predict weather (in regards to planting crops), and promote health and fertility in crops and farm animals were carried over into the Christian celebration. Thursday and Friday were the days to be careful as the supernatural lurked all around, sickness and death would be attributed to carelessness on these days. In truth, the days before Easter were the days when the cellars and barns emptied of the last stores of the previous harvest and this years crops had not yet been planted, so hard winters and empty stomachs had a large impact on health. Not many of these ancient rituals have survived, although some of the basic ideas have endured. The coloring of eggs using onion skins is not among these pagan rituals, it only developed after the coming of Christianity. Eggs can be associated with rebirth and renewal, and this can be linked with the resurrection of Jesus as well as to their round shape, a symbol of the sun for our ancestors.

To Latvians Easter has always symbolized the victory of light and life over darkness (the coming of spring), and an old tradition is waking before the sun on Easter morning, and washing ones face in running water. This ritual promotes health, beauty and intelligence. I’m not sure about waking up that early (remember, Latvia is pretty far north and so the days are still much shorter), but the ritualistic washing is still done, albeit under running tap water and not in an outdoor stream.

Another tradition we still participate in to this day is šūpošanās, or swinging. It is a magical ritual that reflects the rising and setting of the sun, and not only helps the sun climb higher into the sky, but keeps away the mosquitoes the coming year!

Other traditions, especially concerning the egg, have slowly been forgotten. In my research for this post I found the following rules for the three days of Easter celebrations, and this list is only the beginning:

If you eat your egg without salt then your summer will bring many lies.

While boiling the eggs do not blow on the flame, nor talk or laugh or the eggs will crack.

If the egg peels easily the flax will grow well and be easily processed.

Eggs were taken to the cemetery, symbolizing rebirth also for the dead.

The swing must be hung high on a hill so that visible from afar, but never near a stream so that girls will not lose their vainadziņš (in this case a symbol of innocence)

The swings can not be left up after Easter as then eggs will not hatch in the coming year.

The swing can be burned after use, and then the witches can not use them. (! They really were serious about their swings !)

Our Easter eggs already colored using this traditional method, I thought back to other Easter traditions that were of importance to me as a child. One of the American customs that has been blended into our American-Latvian celebration is the egg hunt, sometimes accomplished indoors, sometimes outdoors. I could check this off the list as luckily Lauris had been able to join the IWC mom and baby group in this fun activity. 

Another custom for our family is to meet after church for a large Easter lunch. Ham is usually the main dish, and my grandmother’s paska always makes an appearance. I knew paska wasn’t a Latvian dish so I looked it up, and it turns out what we call paska is a dish borrowed from the Eastern Orthodox countries named after Pascha, the Eastern Orthodox celebration of Easter. Paskha or Pascha (Russian: Па́сха, "Easter") is a dish made during Holy Week and then brought to church on Saturday to be blessed, and contains those foods which are forbidden during the fast of Great Lent. Made from farmer's cheese or cottage cheese, which is white, the dish is supposedly a symbol of the purity of Christ. For my family it doesn’t have any symbolism, but has become a staple in the Easter feast.

And so in my effort to bring some of our family Easter traditions to our home in France, I followed my grandmother’s recipe as closely as I could. The recipe called for farmer’s cheese, but I substituted cottage cheese (which was as hard to find here in Clermont-Ferrand as were the white eggs!) and omitted the corinthes (which I’ve never really liked all that much, I prefer to serve up strawberries on the side). The result was not exactly as I remember, but I consider it as much of a success as our onion skin Easter eggs, and the olu sišanās.

I wish each and every one of you priecīgas Lieldienas, a happy Easter, and joyeux Pâques, and may your family traditions bring you as much happiness as have ours.

My grandmother's paska recipe
 

1/2 lb butter at room temperature

6 hardboiled eggs yolks

3 lbs farmer’s cheese

½ tsp vanilla

½ cup chopped hazelnuts

1 ½ cups powdered sugar

1 – 1 ½ cups corinthes

2 cups whipped cream

Using a mixer, blend the egg yolks and butter. Add the farmer’s cheese and vanilla, then continue mixing by hand. Combine the result with the powdered sugar, hazelnuts and corinthes and finally fold in the whipped cream.

Place mixture in a colander lined with cheese cloth, then fold the cheese cloth over the top. Put on a plate and place in refrigerator for at least one day.

Invert on a serving dish, garnish with strawberries or other fresh berries and serve! Bon appétit!

I forgot, again!

Reading one of my favorite blogs I was reminded that I once again missed April Fools’ day! It isn’t that I had some grand scheme planned, instead I wanted to tell you about Poisson d’avril, April 1^st in France. Although it’s not really known for sure where the origins of this day of practical jokes and hoaxes lie, many writers suggest that the restoration of Jan. 1st as New Year’s Day in the 16^th century is to blame. Those left celebrating the New Year on April 1^st would have been fools...

In 1508 French poet Eloy d’Amerval referred to a poisson d’avril, an April fish, and these words describe the tradition that is still practiced in France today. The goal is to attach a paper fish to the victim’s back without being noticed. Hah! Hilarity ensues!

Our April 1st activities included flying planes from atop the coffee table

I also forgot that it was Latvian holiday Pūpolu svētdiena until I received an e-mail from my grandmother wishing me the traditional “apaļš kā pūpols, vesels kā rutks!” A literal translation is pussy willow Sunday, more commonly known as the Christian holiday Palm Sunday. One of the most common traditions on this day is for the first person awake to cut some branches from the willow and use them to wake the rest of the household while wishing them to be “round as a pussy willow, healthy as a turnip.”

Luckily I have not forgotten that Easter Sunday is this weekend! Our Easter plans are forming, the Easter bunny has been notified and I’ve even located some cottage cheese to try my hand at paska… but that will be another post!

Il est arrivé!

Mikus Jumis (for English please see below)

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Svētdien, pulksten 1345, vienlaikus Francijā ieradās Mikus Jumis ar savu vecmammu. Mazais, Clinique de Chataigneraie slimnīcā ar ārstes Anton-Bousquet un sage femme palīdzību, svēra 10 mārciņas, 6 unces un 21.25 collas gaŗš. Vecmamma, Clermont-Ferrand lidostā, kur to sagaidija manas grieķu draudzenes vīrs ar šofera-tipa zīmīti. Todien arī Clermontā uzsniga pirmais līpošais sniegs, kas ieradās kopīgi ar lielu aukstumu visā Eiropā. Gribu pieminēt, ka ledusskapis (par kuŗu gāja runa pagāš nedēļ) pasteidzās gan Jumim, gan sniegam pa priekšu, ierodoties ceturtdien līdz ar diviem ļoti pieklajīgiem bet galīgi angliski nerunājošiem darbniekiem.

Šodien ar Miku pārnācu mājās, un kaut ārā turpina snigt, iekšā silts un omulīgs. Svinējām Francijas crêpe dienu (par kuŗu stāstiju pirms gada) kā arī mājās pārnākšanu ar lielām plāno pankūku vakariņām un turpinam baudīt jaunāko ģimenes locekļa klātbūtni.

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At the exact moment his grandmother landed in Clermont-Ferrand, Mikus Jumis made his appearance in the world. Weighing 4,7 kilograms and 54 cm tall (10lb 6oz and 21.25”), he was delivered by doctor and sage femme at the Clinique de Chataigneraie in Beaumont. My mother’s flight landed five minutes early at CFE, where she was greeted by a friend bearing a sign with her name. Sunday also marked the arrival of the first sticking snow here in Clermont-Ferrand, along with the deep freeze that is enveloping Europe. At this point I will add that the refrigerator (that I mentioned last week) beat everyone, arriving last Thursday.

Today Mikus and I came home, and although it continues to snow outside it is warm and cozy inside. We celebrated jour des crêpe (Candlemas day here in France, I wrote about it here) as well as homecoming with a big dinner of crêpes, Mikus watching us wide-eyed the entire time without making a peep. And so starts life as a family of four: I just have to remember I’m now outnumbered, 3 to 1.

My Two Kings

Friday France celebrated Kings Day (Epiphany); the day Catholic tradition states that the Three Kings arrived in Bethlehem to honor the Christ Child (the Latvian Zvaigznes diena). Celebrating with a “King Cake” in France is quite common, for Catholics and non-Catholics alike. According to Wikipedia, in Provence the King Cake is gâteau des Rois made of brioche and candied fruits and in the northern half of France galette des Rois, a puff pastry with frangipane. Historically there was a bean baked inside, and when eating the cake, the person who gets the piece of cake with the trinket becomes “king” for a day. The beans have over time been replaced first by porcelain and now by plastic figurines.

We were lucky enough to partake in the celebration twice, the first time with our mom & baby group here in Clermont. Nadine brought a delicious King Cake (a brioche with chocolate) to share with the group, and although we skipped having a child crawl under the table to determine who receives which piece (so that there is no possibility of the chef or cake-cutter rigging the process), there was indeed a little plastic king figurine hidden in the cake. Lauris was the lucky one to discover it, and I was the lucky one to have to explain that the plastic piece is in fact not edible, and not meant to swallow, eat or place in mouth. However he was crowned king for the day and we enjoyed a couple of hours spent catching up with our Clermont friends, sipping coffee and enjoying the King Cake.

I first heard of jubilārs vēlās from my aunt and her family, where on their birthday, the birthday boy/girl is in charge (within reason) and calls the shots. They can request special meals and favors, a sort of king for a day. And so it happens that the other man in my life becomes a king for a day, as Roberts celebrates his birthday today.

Today was also our second celebration of Kings Day. In the morning I ran out to our local bakery with Lauris for a couple of fresh croissants and found a line out the front door and a camera crew filming the action. The shelves were full of galette des Rois, and I couldn't help but change my order to include one of the beautiful looking pastries to eat with our breakfast of fruit salad. It seemed only destiny that Lauris find the second figurine in his mini portion of the pastry: this one an Auvergnate rugby player!

Robert, the coming year will bring another addition to the family as well as many wonderful adventures and challenges, and I just want to remind you that your “queen” will be by your side for all of it! Daudz laimes dzimšanas dienā, mīļais!



My two kings



Noël a Clermont

This was the first Christmas I have ever spent away from the Midwest; for the last 29 years I have spent Christmas Eve at my grandmother’s house or my husband’s parents house, and Christmas day has mostly been celebrated at my parent’s house. I’m not sure what I expected, but it definitely wasn’t this wave of homesickness (and by that I mean for the familiar, for I consider our apartment here in Clermont-Ferrand home) and increased sense of distance from family and the United States.

Being about a month away from my due date we decided early on that we wouldn’t be traveling, and were blessed with family choosing to come to us instead. Matīss, Roberts’s brother who visited us last Easter, and his girlfriend Indra arrived the evening before Christmas Eve, flying into Lyon and then taking the late train to Clermont. We learned another valuable lesson about travel in France; around the holidays it is better to book first class to guarantee a seat, the four hours spent aboard the train must have been cramped and tiring as Matīss wasn’t even able to get a seat. But our guests made it in good spirits despite an one-hour delay, and shortly after their arrival we were seated around the table digging into some local cheese and charcuterie.

With our guests and the Place de Jaude Christmas tree

Christmas Eve day was much more relaxed than ever before as most of the presents were wrapped and all that remained to be done was one final trip to the store for last-minute supplies. We took our guests for a tour of the Christmas sights in downtown, starting at Place de Jaude with its giant Ferris wheel and Christmas tree (whose lights and top had been repaired since the big wind storm), and on through the old section of town decked out in lights, finally arriving at the Marché de Noël for some roasted chestnuts, mulled wine and fried dough for the pregnant lady. After a ride on the petit train taking us through the rest of town we were home, just in time to grab a bite to eat before a short walk to Eglise Saint-Pierre les Minimes, the nearby church that we had visited for a friend’s son’s first communion.





Our next lesson was soon learned, arriving 15 minutes early was enough to guarantee a seat, but not enough for normal seating; the last remaining spots were all the way in the very front of the church in the corner with no view of the altar, the priest or any of the children participating in the service. Lauris, who had not yet napped, showed great patience for the first hour, making friends with some of the other three foot tall service goers. However, in the end it proved too much and we made our exit during communion. Maybe it was because of how little I was able to participate due to my lack of French, maybe it was because of the enormity of the church interior or maybe it was because of the lack of the familiar (such as the dimming of the lights and lighting of the candles during the singing of Klusā nakts, svētā nakts (Silent Night, Holy Night), but the feeling of inner calm I usually find in church on Christmas eve was missing this year. It was only later, sitting around the table surrounded by my family, with candles and the Christmas tree lighting the room and with a big Christmas dinner on the table that the Christmas spirit returned for me. Roberts led the singing of all the traditional Christmas carols, and it was late before we all retired to await the arrival of le Père Noël.

Verona, Italy and Lago di Garda

Another two hours east of Torino is Verona, but west of Verona is Lago di Garda, the largest lake in Italy. Getting there in August takes patience, as the tiny roads were jammed with RVs, scooters, pedestrians, bicycles and cars. But we made it to Bardolino, on the southeast shore. The south end of the lake has beaches, while the west bank is all steep slopes, and although the east shore has interspersed beaches, the banks are mostly steep as well, due to Monte Baldo and the mountains to the east.

We ate our picnic lunch on a bench with a view over the lake, wishing for a breeze but staying sticky. I read later that the Dolomites to the north shelter the lake from any north winds, and although this provides a very mild climate, the south end of the lake was hot! After a little encounter with a restaurant owner barking at us in German (as we entered the internal portion of a restaurant that appeared to be a welcoming café but was in fact closed, a loud “wo gehen sie?” at a couple with a baby), we drove farther north to Malcesine searching for the cable car that would take us to the summit of Mount Baldo. We found it, but were warned that the view was cloudy (the sales desk selling the tickets provides a live video feed from the summit to aid your purchase decision), and opted to only go up only halfway. The view was impressive, but on our drive up the curving road that hugged the shore of the lake we had many beautiful views. We reached the town of Torbole, on the very north tip of the lake, then turned east through the mountains to reach the highway and Verona. The traffic in the opposite direction was backed-up at least two hours entering Torbole; we were glad to be heading on the outbound lane!


The view from Mount Baldi

A center of art, Verona is best known by tourists for the Shakesperean legacy of Romeo and Juliet. Based on the Verona of 1302 which was consumed by political conflict, the tragic couple belonged to rival families: Romeo to the Montechi (Montagues) and Juliet to the Capuleti (Capulets). The Verona we saw had this romantic aspect, but was also the most tourist-filled city on our trip so far, with everyone from Roman legionnaires to Zena, the Warrior Princess actively seeking to pose for pictures in return for a euro or two.

The gates leading into Piazza Bra

We started in Piazza Bra and the Arena in the city center, then wandered side streets to Casa Giulietta, where one can enter the courtyard to see the famous balcony (from which the storied Juliet spoke ‘O Romeo, Romeo…’) for free, but can ascend the stairs and stand on said balcony for a fee. It was shoulder-to-shoulder crowded, and so we headed on to Piazza Herbe, which was also crowded with its tourist market and cafes. (tip: take a right turn out of Juliet’s courtyard and enter the gelato place on the right; cones-to-go for - 1.50 euros each.) The Piazza dei Sigmori was less crowded, and we caught our breaths and admired the Venetian-Renaissance buildings surrounding the square before continuing to the river.



"O Romeo, Romeo! whereforth art thou Romeo?"

It is possible to cross the bridge on the north side of the peninsula and climb the stairs of the Teatro Romano to the terraces, which offer great views of Verona. However, although some of the stairs are stroller friendly, Roberts had quite a carry up the rest. With Lauris growing, the stroller is increasingly a better city-tour choice, even with the stroller-carrying stair-climbs that would be much easier with a baby backpack.

One tired mom and toddler after the climb to the terraces

With stops for snacks and coffee we eventually ended up at Castelvecchio and Ponte Scaligero, a castle complete with stone bridge over the Adige. The art museum is on one side, but we opted to cross the bridge and enjoy the views. Roberts was the first to notice a family furtively looking around with GPS in hand, and after watching them circle for at least twenty minutes I couldn't resist thinking of the times that I had been geocaching in similar circumstances. After they finally left, we made the find for ourselves, then backtracked to a restaurant we had seen on our walk in. After a last look at the ampitheatre in the fading daylight (which was now filling up for an opera), it was back to the hotel and a good night's sleep for this Romeo, Juliet and Lauris.

A delicious dinner

PS. Today in France is a public holiday, feast day of Assumption of Mary. Wishing everyone bon fête!