Marseilles, France

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We spent one day in France exploring the port city of Marseilles. We got there early when the shops were just starting to open.  We walked along the water and watched a fresh flower market pop up all around us as people sat up tents and stands filled with bright, fragrant blooms. People in America don’t really buy fresh flowers unless it’s a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday and even then they are given as a gift and not just used for ornamentation. Flowers in America are expensive so buying a bouquet that will only last a few days doesn’t seem practical. But I noticed throughout Europe that people buy bundles of fresh flowers in the market for a good price and take them home with their regular groceries. I love that. This fall I’m hoping to plant lots of flower bulbs in our yard and garden that way we’ll have lots of blooms to bring inside next spring.

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We decided to take a ferry to the Château d’If. Trying to buy tickets took some work since we don’t speak French but we found that people are very kind and helpful when you ask questions and don’t understand how everything works. The woman working the ticket office for the ferry helped us figure out what tickets to buy and what ferry to take.

We waited in line for a long time before the ferry was ready to go…our first lesson in patience when it came to public transit. Everybody in America has a car, or more likely, two cars. Here we get around by getting behind the wheel and going where we want to go; that is not how life works in Europe.

Because Europe has such extensive public transit the best way to get around is by bus, train, or boat. But when lots of people need to go to lots of different places all using the same system, you don’t get to just climb behind the wheel and go when and wherever you want to–so you learn to wait :]

We stood in line listening to the musical sound of French float all around us and breathed in the smell of salt water and tobacco. I think I might be addicted to nicotine after breathing it in so much over seas. America is pretty restrictive about smoking in public so you almost never breathe in smoke unless you are actually smoking. But the people we came across in Europe smoke a lot, everywhere, all the time…and after a while you start to miss the sweet, tangy smell of the smoke whirling around in the air.

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Eventually the boat did come and we made our way across the cold, choppy water to Château d’If –the setting of Alexander Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo.

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Bold red poppies and wild flowers dotted the scrubby landscape of the island. I picked a poppy and dried it between the pages of my journal. After an hour or two of exploring the pretty little white rock island we took the ferry back and started walking the streets and alleys of the old city–Vieux Port.

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It only seems right in France to make sure you eat a nice, warm baguette. So we found a bakery filled with fresh breads and pastries and bought both a baguette and a fruit pastry. We walked the streets munching on our treats and I can’t think of a better way to see the city than on foot with chunks of warm bread in your hand :]

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It seems any time Darren and I go anywhere, Darren has to go out of his way to find the highest point possible and make me climb up to it. So, you see that tiny gold statue on the top of the hill? That is Notre Dame and Darren made me walk up there, because as it turns out, he hates me ;]

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But this is the view from the top so he’s forgiven (as usual).

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The walk back down the hill was delightful because, well, we were going down…and I got to meet a couple little French cats. This cat was curled up asleep on a bench and didn’t want to talk to me after I took his picture. Another cat came over and put a show on for us by rolling around on his back and being very funny ;]

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By the time we got back to Vieux Port it was raining. We huddled under an umbrella and walked through a couple of outdoor markets looking for lavender soap (which I found) before we were on our way. Next we were on to Pisa and Florence, Italy…I can’t wait to show you our first steps in my favorite place come Monday :] Thanks for reading!

Barcelona, Spain

Before Darren and I met we both had big plans of taking off for Europe after college. He wanted to study art and architecture and I, well I didn’t have a plan really–I just knew I had to see Italy. Darren told me that before we met he had no intentions of getting married before 30. He wanted to study, see the world, and launch his career before he settled into marriage and family.

But life doesn’t often work out the way we plan and the two of us managed to fall in love in college. Darren told me he loved me for the first time the summer after my freshman year when I was only nineteen. As it turns out, I liked him quite a bit too and we married just a couple of months after I finished school. I was 22, he was 24. Somebody should have told us we were just a couple of babies…not that it would have stopped us :]

Scan0001 new{This was our second date. Darren cut the picture into the shape of Italy because I talked so much about going there}

All that to say, Europe got put on hold when we decided to start our lives together. We never gave up on it though and Darren actually had a secret little European fund set aside that he had been putting money into for quite some time. I stumbled across his secret stash one time and demanded he tell me what it was for and who his mistress was….but that is a whole other story ;] Darren told me about the whole caper on New Year’s day this year after which I forgave him for not telling me about the money and he forgave me for accusing him of having a mistress ;]

After that we plotted and planned what we would do and where we would go. This is the first post in a series of posts I will be doing about our trip. I hope you enjoy :]

1011430_10151471439061517_139786814_nWaiting in the Barcelona airport to begin our trip

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Barcelona was our first stop. The sun rising over the Mediterranean and the rugged mountains of Spain were our first glimpse of Europe.

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Once we landed in Barcelona we grabbed a coffee and pastry for breakfast before taking off to explore the city. May I just say this coffee and pastry changed my life. It is very sincerely the best thing I have ever tasted in my life. Dunkin Donuts is dead to me. I sit around dreaming about Spanish coffee now. It’s really pathetic.

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We only had a few hours in Barcelona before we had to leave for France so we took a bus tour to see as much of the city as possible before we had to leave. Barcelona is beautiful, modern, bustling with the hum of Spanish and mopeds. Like every place we would go after, we tasted just enough of Spain to make us hungry for more. Hopefully someday we’ll be able to return and see Madrid too.

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After Spain we went to France; I’ll tell you all about that tomorrow. Thanks for stopping by and sharing in our adventure, friends :]

Beginnings.

Today I wondered what the first thing was I had written about on this blog so I went back and looked. My first post was on May 10, 2011; I put three posts up that day to kick the blog off. It’s funny looking back now and remembering how and why this blog started.

I’m always jotting down my thoughts and trying to capture what I was thinking and feeling in a particular time and place. I wanted to share those thoughts and moments of inspiration with others–and that right there is how this little blog got started.

In May 2011, I remember sitting at a desk by the window watching the cottony fluff of pollen float down from a tree in my back yard; it looked like it was snowing in the middle of spring. For some reason that day watching the cotton fluff float around outside moved me to start this space and start sharing the words and pictures that make up my little world. At the beginning I intended only to write about nature and the outdoors–that is why I named this space Outside Air–because the outside air was exactly what I wanted to talk about.

On that first day I posted three entries I had originally taken down in my journal when I was at the ocean and Walden Pond. These were my first words and pictures:

Hampton, New Hampshire

The dark, water-laden clouds billow above taunting with stray drops of rain. The wind is strong, violent, driving and throwing the sea. The temperature is perfect; the beach is our own. The sky and the sea are the same threatening shade of blue-gray, tossing and reflecting off each other as they make the tempestuous transition into spring.

Hampton Beach, April 2011

Westerly, Rhode Island

The ocean rumbles, crashes, swirls, and spins. The waves lap, roll, build until they smash against the shore. This is a place of constant motion, constant churning sound—and yet it is quiet, peaceful. The ocean with its billowing waves sings a lullaby of rest. It breathes it briny breath and kisses my face with saltwater kisses. A tiny bird hops and frolics on the beach in the shadow of the violent crushing waves. A ladybug works on her tan. The water rolls in undulating, ever-changing shades of green then brown before morphing against the sand into perfectly white sea foam.  The ocean is timeless and yet never the same.

Misquamicut Beach, July 2009

Concord, Massachusetts

Walden Pond

Even the birds are quiet in this quiet place; they sing below their breath, in a whisper, as if showing respect for the beauty of quiet. The wind rustles through the woods, across the water making the trees sigh and yawn with the motion—that is all, the rest is silence. The wind is cold but the trees flirt, taunting the warm air to come—blushing crimson in buds ready to bloom.

Walden Pond

Those three posts on the same day were my only entries in May and I didn’t write again until the end of July.

You see, on June 1st 2011, a tornado came through our town and over our house. We had moved out of a downtown apartment in a not-so-safe city just a year before and were looking forward to our first summer in our home in this small town. We had a backyard for the first time and it was wooded with lots of big trees and a little stream running through it.

I loved our yard. Every morning when I came down to the kitchen I would look out the kitchen window at the yard and the trees and honestly thank God for allowing us to live here. I soaked up the morning light reaching through the woods across our lawn and I was really, very happy. That morning Darren and I went for a walk around the neighborhood before leaving for work. By the time we came home from work that night everything we loved about this place was gone.

Nearly every tree in our backyard was taken down and the brush and debris buried the little stream in the woods. Our entire road was badly hit with many of the houses having to be taken down and a huge area of woods completely gone. Everything looked different without the trees and woods. Instead of enjoying our first summer here we ended up using it to clean up our backyard and put everything back together around here. Even after cleaning it up it has never looked the same.

I was frustrated and disappointed and for a while nothing about the outside air inspired me anymore. I had no thoughts on nature and the outdoors that I wanted to share here. I kept waiting for the inspiration to come back but after a while I just gave up and decided to write about other things instead. I started writing about my thoughts on life in general and opened up about my faith and family. These weren’t the things I intended to share here but that’s the direction life took me that summer.

And so here we are now. Two years later and I think in some ways this space has come full circle. I’m back to sharing my words and pictures of the beautiful outdoors and still continue to share about life in general. I never imagined this space would turn into what it has but I’m thankful for each of you who come along with me on this journey and allow me to share my little world with you here. I am so very thankful for the ways you both challenge and encourage me along the way with each post. Some of you have been here from the beginning and some of us our new friends…I’m thankful for each one of you.

This space has been good for me. Here I have been able to articulate and share my thoughts and feelings and find out what others think of the same things. I have made friends all over the world and grown closer to people who have been a part of my life for years. I have grown as a writer and learned a lot about photography too. So thank you for coming along with me each step of the way. I hope I can continue to share with you for a long time to come.

Here are my latest pictures of the lovely, inspiring outside air ;]

DSC_0820{Lilacs in the front yard of our new house}

DSC_0836{Stopping to smell the flowers on a walk yesterday}

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DSC_0729{Our first garden}

Thank you for reading along with me, friends :]

Sweet Love

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“A person’s a person, no matter how small.”

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“If you’d never been born, then you might be an Isn’t!
An Isn’t has no fun at all. No, he disn’t.”

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“To the world you may be one person; but to one person you may be the world.”

DSC_0724“You’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So… get on your way!”

All quotes by the fabulous Dr. Seuss

The Best Things in Life

DSC_0554The other night I made one of my grandma’s much-loved recipes–homemade pie crust topped with sugar-glazed strawberries and homemade whipped cream. I remember picking strawberries with my grandma out of her garden when I was a little girl. I love that the recipe card is written in her hand and I always think of her busy in her kitchen when I pull it out.

DSC_0536Speaking of strawberries…I curled up in bed with a big bowl of them the other night and dipped one right after the other in Nutella. Pure bliss ;]

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Katniss likes to wake Darren up every morning…by sitting on his face ;] They are snuggle buddies and I love them both to pieces.

Sometimes the best things in life are the small things…like strawberries and kitty cats

Our Real Lives

Sometimes, as much as I love blogging, the whole thing feels a little less than genuine to me. I obviously only share parts of myself here with you. I try to be open and honest in this space but you can only get so much of the whole picture from the occasional words and pictures I share.

I also try to be positive on my blog because honestly, who wants to read about someone else’s problems all day? I want this space to be beautiful and inspiring so I only share those things that I hope you will connect with and be inspired by. But in so doing I leave out a lot of the truth and always feel like a little bit of a fraud.

This is challenging because I find myself reading my favorite blogs and sometimes I get a little discouraged thinking other people have so much more going for them than I ever will. I look at all their pretty pictures and eat up stories of their adventures and I start to think I must be a complete loser compared to them.

But the truth is these people I admire are only sharing a part of themselves with me—just like I only share a part of myself with you. However beautiful anyone’s life may look, we all have problems, hurts, discouragements, and a whole world of history that has made us who we are.

I have to remind myself of that when I read about other people’s lives online.

I enjoy social media—Facebook, blogs, Pinterest… It’s all good in its place but it’s important to remember how much more there is behind all the pretty pictures and words. There is a lot more going on in my life than I can ever share with you here. But I still want to share with you what I can. I want to tell you my stories and show you my pictures—even if these stories and pictures only give you a glimpse and not the whole story.

There are lots of good things going on in my life right now. As I shared with you not long ago, Darren and I just bought an old house we are remodeling and we are so excited about moving out into the country.

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Earlier this week we planted a big vegetable garden and the other night we pulled an old piano bench outside and sat under the stars planning and dreaming of life in this new place. While we were sitting there the most incredible shooting star I have ever seen zipped by with a trail of flame behind it…I actually gasped out loud—it was that amazing.

In just a few days we leave for Europe. Europe! We have been saving for years and now we finally get to take off and see Spain, France, Italy, Croatia, and England! Holy moly kids…I can’t even tell you how excited I am.

I look forward to sharing all these little adventures with you here over the summer. But in doing so I just wanted to remind you (and myself) that these are just pieces of our lives. The rest of my life involves sitting at a desk doing paperwork, cleaning the house, cooking, grocery shopping, bill paying, blah blah blah. I don’t sit here and tell you about the day-to-day because that would bore me to tears and I don’t want to do the same to you. But the laundry and the paperwork…that is very much my real life whether I share it here or not.

Life is good but it isn’t good every second of every day and it isn’t just pretty pictures and big adventures. Life is beautiful and messy and so much more than the individual parts we share. That’s it. That’s all. Love Kari :]

No Pain, No Gain

I’ve noticed something about myself—a bit of a pattern in the rhythm of my life: Every couple of years I want to burn everything down and start over. I get restless first and crazy shortly thereafter.

I decide I can’t work this job for one more day—or I’ll go crazy. I can’t live in this house for one more day—or I’ll go crazy. I need a baby right now. I have to do this or stop doing that because I NEED a change and can’t go on like this anymore.

I’m at that crazy restless place again. It’s been too many years of the same and I am aching for something different and new.

Usually I get what I want…eventually. I plot and plan, scrimp and save, pester and fuss until the old breaks down and the new is built up around me. And I’m happy—for a while. Life is fresh and new and I’m not bored and restless anymore. I reinvent myself. Find something shiny and new…something different from the monotony of the same.

But right now I am stuck. We have our plans and we know change is around the bend. But that’s the problem…around the bend not right here in my bored little arms. I have to wait. I have to be patient. I have to keep working the job I want to quit. I have to keep living in the house I want to leave. I have to stand still when every fiber of my wild, restless being wants to run away.

There is much learning in the waiting. If I run from what I have, I can never get to what I want. I have to wait patiently through THIS to ever get to THAT.

I’ve been thinking about this restlessness and what it might teach me.  I realize whenever I get uncomfortable in life, I do everything I can to make myself comfortable again.  But I’m starting to wonder if discomfort is actually a very good thing.

After all, if I’m never uncomfortable then what would ever motivate me to move or change? Comfort is nice but it can be very destructive too if it keeps me from ever moving forward. I don’t like feeling wild and restless but this wildness wakes me up and gets me moving.

Not that the whole purpose of life is seeking comfort only. I’m simply saying that discomfort teaches me things comfort never can. Discomfort prods me onward and gives me a catalyst for change.

So I’m trying to value and learn from the wildness inside of me that is always wanting to run away, run on to the next thing. The next thing is probably fine and well—but the waiting and the discomfort—that is fine and well too.

Laugh Together, Cry Together

We are asked to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep; easier said than done.

It’s difficult to relate to people who are going through vastly different circumstances than we are. It’s hard to know exactly what to say or do when everything in my life is good and someone I care about is just trying to keep their head above the deep waters. It’s difficult to be happy for other people when our own hearts are breaking.

How can I connect and relate when my life is so different? Does someone struggling even want to talk to someone who’s breezing by? I know from times of struggle just how annoying and patronizing it can be to have someone who’s doing just fine stop by and say, “Don’t worry, everything will be okay. I know what you’re going through.”

Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Either way, looking at your pretty little life doesn’t make me want to tell you about my problems.

And yet that is exactly what we’re asked to do: We’re asked to enter into each other’s lives—bright and beautiful, dark and ugly—all of it without regard to what’s going down in our own lives at the time.

We’re asked to rejoice with those who rejoice—even when our heart are bleak and weary.

We’re asked to weep with those weep—even when we have great joy we want to share.

We’re asked to go beyond ourselves and find our way into the beautiful mess of each other’s lives.  We’re asked to be there for each other when everything is right and when everything is wrong. We’re asked to empathize and understand the joy and sorrow all around us in the lives of those we love.

I’m trying to learn how to do this, how to set my own life and circumstances aside and enter into the array of beauty and sorrow that paints each of our stories.