We have been moving non-stop since arriving in Europe and I haven’t had a chance to process many photos at all.
In a quick review this evening before bed I remembered I captured this picture of my grandfather staring out the window of a bus at the once-bloody road which led him from Omaha Beach into the mainland.
We have been staying on a farm in Normandy and making trips to various monuments and battle sites in remember since of D-Day.
One of our favorite things about living on a farm has been the simple family breakfast. Everyone, including guests, gathers around the table and enjoys fresh French bread with butter and jam, yogurt, espresso/coffee and fresh cows milk…from that same morning.
We read the paper and talk about events as much as our poor French will allow, and listen to the family discuss news and work.
This is a marvelous quote from Cornelius Ryan’s The Longest Day1 about the approach of Allied ships to the beaches of Normandy. This morning I stood at the top of the hills behind Omaha beach and tried to imagine the immensity of this movement:
When my wife and I travel, we often try to take only one bag (even when abroad). We like the agility—quick schedule changes or spur of the moment itinerary decisions are almost always possible because you have everything you brought on your back.
One truism that I harp on relentlessly focuses on expectations:
All frustration is the result of unmet expectation.
Or, said another way, setting expectations well provides a great platform for relationship—to others, to work, to things we consume, to our time and so-on.
Recently I read a blog that I really enjoyed and the author did a very good job of explaining what his readers could expect in the about section. I really appreciated that because it gave me a context for evaluating how much time I wanted to invest in following and reading that author’s work. (As I’ve said before, we each have a limited number of precious hours to spend.)
I thought I’d take a cue from that experience and do the same thing here.