seeing France in northwest Wisconsin

On the second of two trips to the beau's cabin way up in NW Wisconsin (think two hours east of Minneapolis), I started thinking that the environment was not unlike rural France. Lots of farms, rolling hills, cheese--OK, France has better cheese plus wine, good restaurants, and pretty chateaux, but a girl can dream.

Lots of cows of course. These either wanted snacks or help breaking out.

The local (still in use) mill.

The cabin. Beau stays there with his whole family sometimes, which must get pretty snug--only one bedroom. But he tends to sleep in a tent on the lawn when there's a crowd. We were on our own--very romantic.

View from the house in the early morning.

It was a little rainy one day, but that brought out this perfect, unbroken rainbow--a good omen on the beau's birthday, I think!

Un homme et son chat. This cat goes nuts when the beau takes him up there. Every day I made the beau clear the "killing field," aka the lawn, of dead mice and shrews before I went outside. (Poor things!)

Sailing with a beer in hand is tricky! I had never sailed a boat myself before. I got really into it--sailing is kind of like playing a game with the wind.

I was going to say "Here's one thing they don't have in France," but of course they do have turkeys there. But are they as jolie laide as this one at the county fair? I don't think so.

What's better than a guy who cooks?

A guy who also bakes! Pie, to be specific. Rhubarb pie, if you really want to know. Rhubarb grown in his very own yard.

I'm a lucky girl. Although maybe a little heavier than I was a few months ago.

the Illinois countryside

Truthfully, visiting the far western exurbs of Chicago was never on my bucket list, but when some very pleasant circumstances resulted in an invitation to the farmland, I was delighted to go, for reasons that included the chance to see some stars, go for a bike ride along traffic-free roads, and wake up to nothing but the sound of birds singing.

Empty cornfields were dotted with clusters of woods. The backyard of a friend's childhood house would have been a dream for this apartment-dweller growing up--hundreds of square feet of trees to hide behind, a pond that freezes over in winter for ice skating, a forest floor brimming with trillium and Jack-in-the-pulpit in spring and summer.

A tree-lined path from the back of the house led to this idyllic little oasis, which even boasts a half-finished log cabin. It would be the ideal place for a party or a wedding--if it weren't for the killer mosquitoes. But luckily for our visit, the freakishly warm early spring weather was three steps ahead of any many-legged beings, other than spiders, whose presence was signaled only by the errant strings we broke through as we walked the trail.

A wonderfully relaxing and refreshing interlude made sweeter by the company.

Of course it's not all romance out there.

Merry Christmas

There's no snow here in Chicago, but both Christmas Eve and Christmas day have been sunny and clear--unheard of! Yesterday I actually took a bike ride along the lakefront. That is not entirely unheard of--about five or six years ago it was about 60 degrees on Christmas Eve, and I took the opportunity to go for a ride back then too. It was definitely colder this time, but not painfully so. I wasn't the only person getting a ride in yesterday!

Nothing about my family's holiday traditions is particularly European, except for possibly the focus on home, hearth, and family--which of course are valued among humans everywhere. Whether you celebrate Christmas or are just enjoying a day off, I hope you have the comfort of people you love around you.

an unusual flower

I thought at first that this bush had produced an unusual hot-pink flower in late fall, but then I looked closer--it's a lost glove.

A new building?

How come I never noticed this beautiful structure before?! Oh wait--it's a trompe l'oeil mural on the side of a bank in the Uptown neighborhood of Chicago.

Seeing Brittany? Cape Ann, Massachusetts

Confession: I have never been to the Brittany region of France, but from the photos I've seen, it looks very much like the coast around the towns and villages surrounding Boston. I've visited the area regularly to visit my brother, sister-in-law, and nephew, who live in one of the towns along the South Shore. We always pick a day to visit a small town or two. On this most recent visit, we went to Rockport, Massachusetts, which is on Cape Ann near Gloucester. (Gloucester, you may recall, is the port from which the doomed fishermen of A Perfect Storm set sail.) I'm sure there are tons of visitors in the summer, but we were there in early November.

I love the waterfront geography here--the rocky shores, the little houses all clustered together.

I love the look of weathered wood.

Another day, my brother had to do some business in New Bedford, and I have an old friend who lives there, so while he was busy she and I caught up. New Bedford is a major port and has a large Portuguese and Portuguese-American population. Of course, for me, that means good food. My brother and I went to lunch at Antonio's, where I had the "Chicken Algarvia," kind of a Portuguese-style paella--rice with tomato broth and filled with chicken, shrimp, and clams. When it came out, I gasped--it could've served 10 people easily.

Of course we brought it home.