Lost and Found

Lost and Found

Lost and Found

  A wise friend once told me – there are seasons in life. There’s of course, the big ones like school, college, marriage, motherhood, etc. But then I like to think of the subsets – the everyday life. With each transition, there’s a learning curve and then there’s the stuff that goes a long with it. I remember my first time out of the house with two children. My daughter was 18 months old and my son was a newborn. I was on my way to introduce our baby to my husband’s co-workers at his office in Dallas. I’m on

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Disney Castle

Disney Castle

Following my last post about a New Year’s Do-Over, I must admit that the real New Year’s Eve was fabulous (credit: The Husband). Following stops in Heidelberg and Austria, we head back west towards Germany on January 31st with a very important pit stop on the way to Munich. The fog drifts from the earth trapped in the belly of the Austrian mountains like a steamy bowl of cotton soup. We push our Volkswagon Touran through the water vapor until we start to climb. We weave our car along the breathtaking edge – the slope of the mountain stretching to

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New Year’s Do-Over

New Year’s Do-Over

A month into 2018, my husband and I decided we needed a do-over. For the past months, there’s been a darkness that fell over Antwerp that lulled all its residents into a slow, silent depression. You think you’re okay – that you’re immune to the cold, the darkness, the lack of sun or perhaps you embrace the gloom by curling up with a cup of tea or a glass of wine on the sofa, but then. . . it gets bad. “It’s the first winter that can really get to you,” I remember telling my friends in Texas last spring.

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White Wine Coq Au Vinny

White Wine Coq Au Vinny

The best part about wintertime is the food – just how the world around us has drawn hearthside, slowed down, and warms up with blankets and fuzzy socks – my favorite foods slowly cook in the oven for hours and warms my family’s insides with each bite. (My favorite recipes also make enough to freeze the leftovers, which is handy for those really lazy winter days when I just can’t be bothered to do more than defrost.) My kids lovingly titled this one White Wine Coq au Vinny, after their Dad. In Belgian and Holland, most grocery stores sell pre-sliced

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Adventures in Austria

Adventures in Austria

I’m shivering in the shower, covered in shaving cream, and screaming to my six-year-old. “Holden! Holden! Where is Daddy?!? This is an emergency!!” Tears press at the back of my eyes. There’s worse things. There are. My hair is full of conditioner. The space heater in the corner of the bathroom is on full blast, but it can’t do anything to warm the ice-cold water spewing from the spout. I’ve turned it off five times in hopes that it reheated, only to be blasted with more melted snow. I try to calm myself. It’s not working. “Mama, he’s outside getting

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Return to Heidelberg

Return to Heidelberg

A flight over the ocean. An embrace by a colleague. A walk through the FRA terminal. A drive on a bus. A crumbling castle atop a hill. A flute player. A toss of a few coins. A view. A photo. A memory. The year was 2007. I was an American Airlines internal auditor. My job was to fly around the world, visit the different airports the airline operated in, and audit them. It was a very cool gig. Especially for an accountant. The team was small – we had five staff/senior auditors and a manager. I remember the first time

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Adventures of a 3-year old

Adventures of a 3-year old

“NO!!! NO!!! NO, MAMA!!!! I DON’T WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!!!” I shove one arm into my winter coat while grabbing a tiny leg with the other. There’s a loud thud and the half liters of German beer shake on the thick wooden table as I bonk my head – trying to escape from the dark cave with my treasure, my love, my third child. I emerge from its underbelly – squirming into the other half of my coat, wrestling my three year old, and dying of embarrassment. The low roar of the restaurant is no match for my precious angel’s

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Antwerp Christmas Market

Antwerp Christmas Market

When my family and I lived in the Netherlands, my husband and I used to get up on a Sunday, look at each other and say, “What should we do today?” If it wasn’t raining, the answer was often, “Let’s go to Belgium!” We drive and park and wander the streets of Antwerp admiring the architecture, the wide boulevards, visit the Bric-a-Brac market in Sint-Jansvliet and inevitably feast on a waffle from our favorite stand in the train station. We’d head back to Leiden before dark. We’ve visited Christmas markets in Brussels, Brugge, Paris, and Aachen. For some strange reason,

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Christmas Tea Party

Christmas Tea Party

The idea began with me laughing and shaking my head at Facebook posts. My husband grew up in Louisiana, and his fraternity brothers all married beautiful southern-born women. While Texas has its own way of doing things, I can admit it’s probably a little more rugged and less refined than its southern sisters. With firmly planted French roots, New Orleans has a unique and sophisticated manner of decorating, speaking, and hosting. Back in September I swear, or maybe it was October, I saw Facebook posts requesting recommendations for mother-daughter Christmas teas in Baton Rouge and New Orleans. I smirked. I

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Sunshine Lemon Tea Cookies

Sunshine Lemon Tea Cookies

I hosted a Christmas Tea party this past weekend and out of all the goodies I prepped, these seemed to be one of the favorites. Tart and sweet, small and light, they were like sunshine on the cold winter day. If you want them to balance on the saucer of your tea cup, make the dough dollops tiny before sliding them into the oven. Preppin’ 1/2 cup (115 grams) butter 3/4 cup (150 grams) sugar 1 teaspoon lemon zest 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/4 teaspoon baking soda 1 large egg 1/3 cup (80 ml) milk 2 teaspoons lemon juice 1

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