Remembering

My children, now grown, used to come home to Andre Boccelli blaring at a level I would have told them would permantely damage their hearing. They would look at each other and know that I was in my "Europe" mode. We had lived in Brussels for 4 years and I loved it. Every bit of it including the endless cloudy days, the rain, the lack of parking,,, and the lifestyle, the bread, the markets, the wine and cheeses, and let's not forget .. the antiques. But, best of all. as a mother, the lack of tv, no drivers license for teenagers, restaurants that forced you to take your time and enjoy your meal .. time spent together as a family.

I count my blessings. My children. My time here in France doing what I love ...hunting. Hunting for antiques.

Watching sunrises and sunsets over hilltop villages. Wandering through alleys where views and history beg you to whisper in awe one moment and listen for the trumpets sounding in the next.

Blessings where my friends at home sent me off with their best wishes and toast to my success. I miss you.

Blessed. How sweet the sound.

Salut!
Lynn

Back in the Saddle Again

Arriving in Brussels was like coming home again and the anticipation of shopping for treasures had me dancing with glee. Well, maybe dancing in my head because after the flight, the taxi to pick up the van, the drive to the hotel to check in for the room that was not yet available, but would be available sometime later that day, was definately playing catch up this "drooping in many areas" body of mine.

So, to begin, I rented a van. Not a minivan, the seats definately get in the way and the rental companies generally frown when you remove them from the vehicle because that fabulous painted 18th century buffet won't fit in otherwise and the hotel has a problem when you use the luggage cart to tote the seats through their lobby, not to mention that they do not fit into the elevator. Therefore, I rent a utility van. A high hat, 5 speed, very large utility van. This one came with 1000 kilometers included in the rate. Sounds reasonable, that's 600 miles in less than 4 days and let's face it, Belgium is not that big.

I have a GPS system with a European chip. Shortest route, no problem.  Let's go country. One lane, irrigation ditches on both sides, curves that defy the letter "S" and did I tell you about the goats? Is the GPS, whom I have affectionately named BeBe because how can you yell at something that doesn't have a name, always correct? Well, let's just say there was a turn into a parking lot where I sweated or "dewed" profusely as I manuerved through the very creative Belgian parking. The kind where every car has pulled in their side view mirrors, where I literally inched through only to find that after all I endured... there was no exit and more importantly, no great find, antique or otherwise. Only a combination bus terminal - Pizza Hut parking lot. And the only way out was to BACK UP and not just a little bit. We're talking rows. Rows where when the spaces ran out, they just made new ones. On angles and corners. On sidewalks and crosswalks. And I in my kerchief had to back out. Not up one row or even two or three. Picture a maze. A maze with those death defying pedestrians chanting "na, na, you can't hit me".

Did I say that I'm a 50 something blond? Did I mention that the weather was absolutely gorgeous. A full sun with 80 plus degree temperatures and NO AIR CONDITIONING in this oversize white whale? Do you know what full sun and complete shut downs on the Ring Road around Brussels do to a woman used to flipping that AC switch to maximum at any hint of showing the slightest bit of "dew" as we southern women like to say?

As for that 1000 kilometers included in the rate.... blew right past that. Only 1300 kilometers, 780 miles in less than 4 days. Did I shop? Oh, yeah! Stay tuned for the highlights!

Salut!
Lynn