Where's Cleveland? A Scavenger Hunt!

Even though I've been based in lovely Luxembourg for the past two years, I've been lucky enough to keep up the hometown connection with a little project I've been working on!

Introducing 'Where's Cleveland?', an amazing scavenger hunt that's going to be taking teams of folks all around Cleveland to participating in fun challenges. And when I say challenges, I'm talking about taste testing, mind games, stuff that will test your navigation skillz and your Cleveland trivia.

If you're a Clevelander, and you're interested in joining in on the fun (and I promise you, it will be a blast!), go to www.ohiohomecoming.com for more information! Click on the events button for Saturday, July 23rd and you'll find all the glory details. Registration will be open in a few days so stay posted....

Trust me. This is something you won't want to miss.

The countdown begins...

There has been silence in this space for the past few weeks because, in typical world-of-academica fashion, there has been a transfer of students; season veterans leaving, overwhelmed newbies arriving with a healthy does of goodbyes, welcomes and hugs mixed in.

Also, there was a quick little hop over the pond to hug a very special sister who was graduating from university.

So. I'm back in my little apartment in my little Chateau. For just a little over six more weeks.

And then? Then it will be back to the good ol' mother land, the country of bbq sauce, bagels and every variety of Mexican food your heart could dream of.

And, as with all transitions, saying hello to a new adventure, means saying good bye to a place that has become so familiar and dear.

 But hey, isn't that the best excuse to really live it up? Carpe diem, live each day as its your last, dance like no one's looking kind of 'living it up'?

And if that means going to the gelato shop down the street every day, I'm in.

So stay tuned folks...there's a lot on the docket - new places to explore, old haunts to revisit, many glasses of wine to share with friends. It's going to be one helluva summer.

le printemps francais

Et Voila: spring scenes of Normandie in April. A region characterized by clouds, mist, and striped shirts, the sun was an unexpected (albeit pleasant) surprise.

Right now the fields all around Europe are filled with those yellow flowers - patch after patch, brilliantly contrasting with the rich green. They represent the end of winter, a breath of fresh, warm air, and the beginning of glorious spring. So badly do I want them to stay. I know once they fad, it will be almost time to go home.

le francais - je t'aime

Watching this video took me back to the year of les francais - trains, markets, getting lost (figuratively and literally) and falling in love with France.

Emaischen

Welcome to another installment of 'Luxembourgish festivals I can't pronounce.'

Let's see: there was February celebration of burning crosses and the early April Sunday dedicated to pretzels. The newest event to add to my repertoire of la vie luxembourgouise is Emaischen, a.k.a. the day of clay bird whistles.

Another day that happens just once a year (Easter Monday to be exact), this festival is characterized by stand after stand of vendors selling their version of peckvillercher, clay birds of varying sizes, shapes and colors.

Making my way to the center of town on Monday afternoon, my concerns that I might not find the market instantly vanished. The cadences of the bird whistles grew louder and louder as I neared the old church. While with Bretzelsonndeg you could follow your nose, with this festival, you definitely followed your ears.

And there, stand after stand, filled with (clay) birds, vendors demonstrating the whistles, children trying out their new toys, mixed with keen collectors examining this year's 'flock' - it was equal parts strange and magical.

It was Luxembourgish.

Little Adventures

So, I had a conversation, not too long ago, where the question was asked: Would you rather have a life filled with little adventures that happen daily, or one characterized by big, soul-inspiring adventures that happen only a few times?

 I love the adrenalin rush of exploration. Going boldly into the unknown - a new city, a new culture - not knowing what you'll find around each corner, who you'll meet, and what could happen. It's a thrill that I yearn for - attacking the buffet that life of what the world has to offer with gusto! You could say I'm a junkie...

But the small adventures. Those cannot be forgotten or appreciated with any less vigor than those big life changing moments.

There was a moment this week that made me pause a bit, to realize, as if it were a sign in big flashing neon letters, that life is beautiful and short.

And so often, it's those little adventures, those tiny moments, that make me breath deep the joy of living.

The smell of spring lilacs, junky flea markets, 1 euro yogurt gelato, a surprise piece of cake with my coffee at work, an unexpected conversation, a forty minute train ride through Luxembourg, with only me, my thoughts, and a really good book...I guess you could say I'm also a junkie for that.

Traveling Scotsman

This European adventure has been lovely and fulfilling in so many ways, but if I had to choose one thing that I'll cherish always (other than pain-au-chocolat being readily available and accessible around every corner) it would be the people I've met.

Before I headed out for two weeks of study tours and the Camino, I was reunited with one of my favorite people, the Scotsman from my blissful sojourn at another Chateau near Paris. Our little band of followers (six in total) drank whisky on old stone steps, harvested buckets of spinach from the kitchen garden and debated politics and religion during our afternoon gouter on the gravel path.

Two whole years later, the Scotsman and I finally had our long discussed reunion. And when I saw this crazy guy standing in the courtyard, kilt and all, it was like no time had passed.

After a few days, it was time to part ways again, but not before lots of catching up, a few walks in the woods, and maybe a sip or two of whisky.

One piece of advice: if you are ever driving though Europe and you see someone standing on the side of the road, in a kilt, their hitching thumb out, stop, give him a lift. Even if it's for five minutes I promise you, you won't regret it.

Safe travels dear friend. Come back again soon.