Ack, where has the time gone?

So, I have been woefully neglecting this blog. The point of which was to chronicle the trials and tribulations, as well of the joys, of spending a year abroad with my daughter. We've been here two months already! Ack, where has the time gone? In my defense, we didn't have an internet connection at home for the first month. So, here is an entry that I wrote during that time recounting our crazy adventures arriving here.

After racing Hurricane Irene to NYC, we spent the two days we were supposed to be seeing the city holed up in our hotel room riding out the storm. On Wednesday it looked like the hurricane was going to hit South Carolina and part of North Carolina and it was clear that the trains would not be running – which was our chosen method of transportation to the Big Apple. So, we decided it would be best to try to get out of town before the storm hit and I rented a car so that we could leave Charleston on Friday morning, drive to Washington DC where we would spend the night, spend some time in DC on Saturday morning, maybe stop off in Philadelphia, and then be to NY by 4:00 so that we could return the rental car. By Friday morning it was clear that the storm would miss South Carolina and hit North Carolina with its full force, then bounce its way up through DC, the Jersey shore, and on to NYC on Saturday afternoon/evening. So, Friday night we spent a couple of hours seeing the sites in DC in the dark but we canceled all of our plans for Saturday and pulled out bright and early at 6:00 am to beat the storm. Although very tired, we made it to our hotel, returned the rental car, and were safely in bed watching the news by 1:00 pm.

Although the storm did a quite a bit of damage, and there was some major flooding, NYC was not hit as hard as it could have been. The entire city was shut down on Sunday including all public transportation. But by Monday morning, most things were back up and running. The airports re-opened in the morning for arriving flights and at noon for departing flights. Luckily we were scheduled for 2:05 pm and our plane took off on time. Things were not nearly as chaotic as expected!

We arrived in Iceland in the middle of the night and found a few Icelandic snacks (some weird spicy ginger soda and chocolate covered rice cakes) before our plane took off again for Paris. We descended into the city just as the sun was beginning to rise. There were a few anxious moments as we waited for our luggage as it seemed to be the last off the plane, but the real fun was still to come.

It was a long ways from Charles de Gaule airport to our hotel by the Montparnasse train station. The first part on the RER was fine. Although we had to scramble to get our baggage on before the train left the station, and we got some dirty looks from other passengers as we took up 4 seats with our suitcases, the trip was rather uneventful. The Metro was a maze of stairs that had to be climbed and descended, all while carrying a backpack, a duffle, and a rolling suitcase each. It was not fun. If I had to do it again, I would have gotten off of the RER at a major stop and gotten a taxi to take us to our hotel.

Eventually, hot, sweaty, and somewhat bruised, we got to the hotel. They were nice enough to hold our luggage for us so we could take off and see the city. By this time it was about 10:00 am, and although check-in was not technically until 3:00 pm, they told us that if we came back after noon we would be able to check in early.

We had bought some unlimited Metro passes so that we could hop on and off all over the city. We definitely got our money’s worth out of those tickets! We saw “la place de la Concorde”, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Sacre Coeur before lunch. Then we gave in to our exhaustion and went back to the hotel for a two hour nap. Although we could have slept for hours, I forced the two of us up and got us back on the streets. We found our way to the Sewer museum (MoMo’s special request!), the Eiffel tower, and Notre Dame. After dinner in a little Italian place, we realized we were right next to the Pantheon and went up for a closer look. Finally around 8:00 pm we allowed ourselves to take the Metro back to our hotel, and fell exhausted into bed – well MoMo did at least. I spent a couple hours checking e-mail and putting pictures on facebook.

Although we wanted to go back to the Pantheon on Wednesday morning before we took the train so that we could go inside, we never made it. Instead we had a very nice lunch at a French café and bought a manga book that MoMo wanted about the adventures of a little kitten. The train trip went smoothly, although again we had a hard time getting all of the luggage on and off the train. New and old friends were waiting with smiling faces to greet us at the train station and bring us to our new home.

Garage Sale Update

I'm a bit late for my post-garage sale update, but things went well. We sold a lot of stuff and only hauled one trunk-load of things to Goodwill afterwards. The weather was nice. It threatened rain both days but didn't follow through, so there were no soggy messes to clean up.



We sold much of our furniture to a nice Congolese family from down the street which means we are now without a couch or chair. Our evening Netflix insta-queue sessions have gotten rather uncomfortable but I guess we'll live. I wonder how long it will take my dh to find a new sofa once he arrives in the south...

We of course immediately spent our hard-earned cash on a few new/replacement items we were needing. We're still finding things that should have gone in the garage sale, but it's mostly straight to Goodwill for them. Basically, it just feels good to be done with it.

Garage Sale Prep

Six weeks until we leave for South Carolina, then another four before our hop over the pond. Since we are downsizing to a two bedroom apartment, we have a lot piles and piles of stuff to get rid of. This inevitably leads to the dreaded garage sale. Yep, this weekend is it. The Garage Sale. So, my days are spent sorting and packing. (Or at least that is how they are supposed to be spent.)

There are boxes of stuff that weren’t unpacked after the last move that I’ve had to pull out and sort through. Drawers and shelves have been emptied. We’ve cleaned out under our beds. And, MoMo has cleaned out her room. Which is miraculous! But, this means that our house is being choked by all the junk that has been pulled out. I’m hoping that after this weekend the task of packing will seem much less overwhelming.

But to get there, I first have to make it through the Garage Sale.

The begininng

So, three years ago, my husband and I decided to drop everything and go to graduate school. We packed up the kids, quit our jobs, and moved to the other side of the mid-west. At that point, I thought we were completely nuts (as I suspect most of our friends and family did as well). Would it be possible to support a family of four on the income of two graduate students?!? The answer, as it turns out, was yes. We’ve managed to get by, and honestly, the jobs we left weren’t great, financially speaking, so combined with holds on our student loans, and some other cost cutting measures, we didn’t feel too much of a pinch. We’ve all made new friends and rooted ourselves in the life of this mid-west college town.

The hitch? We’ve known from the beginning that this move was only temporary. Although, I still have YEARS left to go on my PhD in French, my husband finished his MFA this spring. The plan three years ago, heck, the plan until three months ago, was that at this point, the four of us would head off for a year in France while I taught English through an exchange program run by the university. Although we had survived three years of grad school on our meager salaries, we realized that one part-time salary might not be enough to support four people in France. Combine that will my husband’s eagerness to re-start his career and my son’s reluctance to attend a French school, and our trip for four turned into a trip for two, my fourteen year old daughter and I.

Although, this is not the beginning of our dreaming, nor the beginning of our preparation, nor even the beginning of our travels, this is the beginning of the chronicle of our year in southwest France.