Mille Quatre Cent Soixante Deux Jours a Sceaux (1,462 Days in Sceaux)

Moving begins

As the elevator doors opened, they were there.  They were always there when someone was moving.  The guardian of the complex hangs the dense, thin gray protective surfaces in the elevators when someone is moving.  I often wondered who among the dozen or so apartments was moving.  It always seemed to happen incognito.  They were up, they were down, without sense of any other activity.  Today, I did not have to wonder for whom the gray tapestries hung, they hung for me.

A crew of two hit the apartment at 13h00.  They left at 17h10.  In those four hours and change, they packed the living room and dining area, cleared both large closets, packed up the guest room, and started on the kitchen.  All the warmth and character this place had is gone, and will never be again.  But it is OK.  This chapter is closed.  All the experience of living here feels as though it is being compressed for storage, it is past and time to put it away.

A few steps remain...

I have some final packing of my own to do by tomorrow so I can be completely out of their way.  The cleaning crew comes tomorrow, working behind the movers to make sure everything is tip top for checkout at 17h30 tomorrow afternoon.  After that, I am spending the next two nights with the Du Toit family, a good friend I have from work.  Friday, I head to the airport and fly home for good.

a bientot, mes amis!

Mark

Mille Quatre Cent Soixante et Un Jours a Sceaux (1,461 days in Sceaux)

The last hours in Sceaux

As I write, I am less than 24 hours from mot having a bed in Sceaux, and that will be exactly four years to the date I moved in.  I have much to do, and this broken ankle does not help.  I broke it while in Romania doing some sightseeing in the Carpathians with friends -- I only wish I as doing something as strenuous as mountain climbing.  Still, sweet memories of cherished friends.

The Hermitage, also known as Chez Mark, is all but closed, and even now, rapidly becoming the past.  I was fortunate, by God's grace, to find this beautiful little apartment, with its lush balcony views, birds singing in morning and evening, and the grand tranquility of the Parc de Sceaux.  All are a part of my memories, not my present nor future.  The helter-skelter chaos of coordinating a move allows me to only see the tasks and nothing else.  It is OK, the weather is typically Parisian: gray and wet -- the very thing I liked least about my stay here.

I have been blessed to make some good friends here, and they have helped me not only in my time here, but especially now, as I have had to lean on them for help with the move.  I hope we shall see each other again.

It is good to finally be going home, and it is near, very near...

a bientot,

Mark

Events from April 2013 to May 2014

As I noted in my previous blog, my silence in 2013 did not mean nothing was happening.

May 2013

Roussillon and 100 years:  In early May, I was invited to celebrate 100 years of wine-making by Domaine Sol-Payre in Elne, France.  This family-owned winery is now in its fifth generation.  I also visited the legendary vineyard of La Petite Siberie, owned by Domaine Clos des Fees.  Here are pictures from the trip.

Spain and Morocco: Family friend Laura Austin, now a world-class Googler in Califorinia, is also a fun traveling companion, especially when Spanish is required.  She spent a year studying in Madrid, but took the time to learn the best places to see in other parts of Spain.  She wanted to go to Morocco (who doesn't; I'm in!), so we traded: she would be my guide and interpreter in Spain, and I would do the same for her in Morocco (they speak French there).  We traveled by plane, train, bus, and ferry (from Spain to Morocco).  Here are pictures of this adventure.

June 2013

My younger brother David and his family visited in June, as part of a greater European romp they were enjoying.  I served them the best Chez Mark had to offer: Beef Tenderloin Chez Mark, Paella, and the accompanying host of cheeses, salads, and wines.  We had a "lock-in" of sorts, but also went out to see Paris at night.

Josh and Kayleigh, my nephew (David's younger son) and his wife Kayleigh visited for an evening dinner at Chez Mark.  I cooked the beef tenderloin and red wine sauce, along with salad, cheeses, and dessert.  We enjoyed a wine called Selenae, 2001 vintage (middle row, far right).  This is the premium wine from Domaine Ferrer-Ribiere.  It was a fun time, and I am grateful they could fit me into their schedule.

August 2013

A long-time work colleague and friend came to Paris on a business trip.  She immediately wanted to go Giverny, the site of Monet's gardens.  She contacted me, and I set it up (she actually pointed me to the websites to make the reservations).  This is a trip I would not have made, simply because I was unaware Giverny could be reached so easily.  It is easy to see the inspiration for his paintings, even in these pictures.

November 2013

I mentioned the trip to Marrakesh in the blog, and will post the links for photos here again: Marrakesh, Atlas Mountains.

Texas schools are off for the week of Thanksgiving, and I asked Pam to come over so we could do some sightseeing together, knowing my days here were numbered.  One week was not going to be enough, so I persuaded her to stay for two weeks.  Her principal was kind enough to give her permission, and she only lost two days of pay.  Still, it made for a great time together, and worth every extra penny.

During the week of Thanksgiving, we traveled north and west of Paris to Mont Saint Michel and Normandy's D-Day beaches of Omaha (American) and Gold (British).

December 2013

Pam's visit continued into the first week of December, and the reason I wanted her to stay longer: December 1st signaled the opening of the Christmas market in Strasbourg, a city which has celebrated each Christmas full stop for 500 years.  Strasbourg is the self-proclaimed "Capital of Christmas", and no one argues.  We had a great time in the very German part of France.  We stayed at Hotel Rohan, just off the main square, a hotel with 30+ uniquely decorated rooms.  Everything was walking distance for us, and it was a great way to open the Christmas season.  We shared a very memorable time during Pam's extended stay.

February 2014

Jack Schaffner and I finally got to romp France together.  We first hit Normandy and the D-Day beaches.  We took our time to savor the places where men fell, and also the American cemetery.  Much to the surprise of many reading this, we did not see the museums.  After a night back in Paris, and dinner at an Alsatian restaurant called Chez Jenny (Jack's ancestors came from Alsace), we headed south, to Northern Catalonia, also known as Roussillon, in France.  In Roussillon, we enjoyed both wine tastings and hiking, and driving about the countryside at-large.

My sister-in-law and niece came for a stay after Jack's visit.  Brenda and Abby were here earlier (see June 2013 above), but both felt like they needed a trip to Paris and a stay at "Chez Mark" so, as my niece Abby put it, "we can see all the things the boys didn't let us see this summer".  They indeed did just that, with only two overlaps in 11 places visited.  We had many wonderful evenings together, including a visit to the Eiffel Tower at night.

Catalina and Claudiu Stanean came for a visit, two of the young people who translated for us during our many mission trips to Romania.  I have known both since their earliest teen years, and now they are married with two lovely children.  It was a sweet reunion, and I was so glad to share in their Paris adventure.

May 2014
I made three trips in May: UK, Sud de France, and Romania -- all to visit friends, and pick up a wine barrel.  I got to see the Codex Sinaiticus, the oldest complete version of the Bible in Greek at the British Library and try to read from its 4th century pages.  Sud de France gave me an opportunity to visit one of our favorite winemakers and bring back a barrel for use in the wine room of our new house.  The trip to Romania was a sweet time with friends with a twist and a break -- to my ankle.  I hobbled back to Paris to prep for my move home; very bad timing.  It took nothing away from the times shared with people I cherish there.

Mille Quatre Cent Vingt Neuf Jours a Sceaux (1,429 days in Sceaux)

Hmmm...yes...400 days since my last post...

It is cloudy here (normal), misting a bit of moisture, "Easter Monday" in France, and my birthday.  I also found out last week that my days in France are rapidly coming to an end.  I requested a move in December 2012, but finally got the type of job I wanted and the salary I wanted just last week.  It's all good, not to fret, as I knew it would take time.  I should be home in Texas by the end of May, 2014, pretty much exactly four years since I moved into what I call "the hermitage at Sceaux".  Of course, to my guests, few and precious they have been, it is "Chez Mark".

I only had the one post in 2013, yet, 2013 was full of events.  I guess the ease of automatically loading photos to Google+ and Google Events made me feel blogging was not as important.  Yet, I know there is more to communicating than posting pictures with a caption or two.  Before I recap the last year and change, permit me to share current random thoughts and reflections.

I am finally getting a handle on the language.  It has been tough, as my experience here has not been immersive.  I work at headquarters with 37 other people representing 20 nationalities.  We talk with our teams throughout the world.  Our language at work is English.  The French, and I say this respectfully knowing it is their culture, are socially closed.  They do not welcome strangers readily, and never totally embrace them.  Yet, they can be kind and helpful and appreciative of your presence, just never expect to build a social network from French people, unless they have traveled abroad themselves.  The point is, the language has been very difficult because I have no humans on which to practice, other than stores and shops.  In those places, the focus is on getting for what you came, paying for it, and letting them serve the next person in line.  Most of my French skills are limited to utilitarian exchanges, and very simple conversation, such as the one I had with a taxi driver in Pau recently.  It was then that I felt I was making some progress on the language, and now I am moving.

Some of you might think being here is charming, that every weekend is a tourist adventure -- and it could be.  I am here solo, and eventually, one gets very tired of doing everything by themselves.  I have a buddy from work with whom I sometimes hang, unless he is heading back to his home in Biarritz.  It is wearying to be here solo, and though I do force myself to do things, I have done much fewer such solo adventures in the last year or so.

At the same time, the emotional weariness has taken its toll on my running.  I know, running is cheaper than therapy, but sometimes one has a difficult time doing something positive and healthy.  I am getting back into it.  I want to keep running as one of my therapeutic elements, as it is a good one for me.

Shifting gears to more positive things, I continue to experiment in cooking, and you can follow my efforts on Pinterest.  I have found that preparing my own food, as opposed to eating packaged, prepared foods, is also a form of therapy.  It keeps me busy doing something positive, I am more food-aware in terms of what I am eating and what it does for my body, and it gives me an outlet for creativity and experimentation.  I enjoy it, and it is an interest Pam and I both share.

Guitar playing is another positive in my life here.  I spend a lot of time playing guitar.  To tell you the truth, it gives me a "real-world" point of contact as opposed to the "virtual-world" that is the Internet.  To be sure, the two have gone together, as I have bought and often downloaded many useful lessons, tips, and helps.  Practice means stepping away from the computer, putting the guitar in your lap, practicing, and playing.  I have learned a lot about music theory, guitar techniques, and ideas about playing.  This is a life-long pursuit, just like running and cooking.  I hope to use all I have learned to teach my grandchildren, if they desire to learn.

In the course of my stay here, I have become a bit of a wine expert, in as much as one can be without doing it professionally.  Nonetheless, I can hold my own in such circles, having judged in three of the large Paris shows.  The newbies transferring into the office are often pointed my way for help in understanding and selecting French wines, and I had the good fun of being the "wine guide" for three young couples at the most recent large show in March (over 500 producers were present).  The wine world has also been a good cultural point of contact, as I have had the good pleasure of getting to know many of the families who are both first- and multi-generational winemakers.  These are hardworking people, salt of the earth.  To know them is to also know their land, so they have become destinations for me as well.  Fortunately, the wines I like best are from the Mediterranean regions, so visiting there is always pleasant.

In addition to traveling to vineyards, I love traveling to Morocco.  I have been there on three trips, to Tangiers, Asilah, Kenitra, Mehdia Beach, Casablanca, and Marrakesh.  I did a day trek into the Atlas Mountains, also.  I would like to do a multi-day trek into the Atlas Mountains, and do a caravan from Fez to Marrakesh.  I love the Moroccan tagine, and one cooks now for my evening meal (slow cooked beef and lamb, with a Moroccan blend of 30 spices, onions, garlic, olives, potatoes, nuts and raisins).

I will continue this blog concerning my travels in 2013 on another page, just so you can take a break.  As I part from this page, and prepare to depart France, the answer is "Yes", I will miss a few things about being here.  I will miss walking to the market, the bakeries, the cheese shop, the butcher -- the small shops in general and the people who run them.  I will miss traveling at will to the Mediterranean or Morocco.  I will miss the handful of French I have gotten to know, and certainly, I will miss the very close camaraderie we share on our team at work (it is rare to find it as good as we have had it).  But there are things I will not miss, like the distal nature of the French toward people they do not know, the lack of human connection outside the office, the bureaucracies of any entity larger than shop, and the generally lower quality of goods and services.  Nonetheless, it has been a rich experience.

A bientot!

Mark

Mille Vingt-neuf Jours a Sceaux (1029 days in Sceaux)

Well, I know I said I was going to be better at blogging, or at least more regular, but that has not happened. I have slipped into the mundane everyday life, which does not inspire much blogging about life here in the Ile-de-France.  My days are numbered here in France.  I gave notice that I wanted to be back in Houston by the end of 2013.  Perhaps this is motivation enough to blog-out the last days of this hitch.  I do not know when the move will happen, and will take advantage of the time remaining.

Like I said, I have become ensnared in the numbness of the mundane.  Yet, as I look back to my last post, a few things have since transpired, and I share them below:

Google+ got Communities.  In the running community, I hooked up with a bunch of people struggling like myself to understand Low Heart Rate Running using Maffetone's equation of 180 minus your age.  It turns out that Dr. Maffetone's equation is really only valid for people under 40.  I did some research and found Tanaka's study and work on the relationship between HRmax and age.  The Fox-Haskell equation (220 - your age) and Maffetone's equation both assume a slope of 1.0.  Tanaka's work, which involved pushing a rather large number of people ranging in ages from 16 to 92 to their HRmax with at least five persons in each age group.  Tanaka's equation is 207 - 0.7*your age.  This means that Fox-Haskell and Maffetone probably underestimates HRmax for people over 40, and overestimates it for people under 40.  When I "age corrected" the Maffetone number for myself -- which was 130 -- it jumped up to 135 bpm -- a number I previously thought correct but had no way of justifying.

In December of 2012, I finally received my French driver's license, after waiting almost 2 years for what was supposed to be "reciprocated" swap.  The best thing about getting the French DL is that it is good for life, and it enabled be to sign up for Auto-Lib (https://www.autolib.eu/).  Auto-Lib lets me pickup one of their electric cars (their stations and kiosks are generally close to RER stations and bus stops.  I pick the car up, drive to wherever in the metro area I want, drop it off at a station, and I am done with it!  This has enabled shopping at the mall near here, and sometimes in Paris -- anytime I have more than I wish to schlep on the mass-transit options.

I finally got the blood test results back from my leg injury (see previous blog), and it indicated I was low in vitamin D -- the lack of sunshine here is a real problem, folks.  I also felt I was not getting enough fresh vegetables and their benefits.  I took up creating my own salads, and expanding my cooking repertoire, all of which I posted on Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/markpuckett01/mark-s-recipes/

The cold and dreariness does adversely affect me -- it seems to go on and on.  My tolerance for cold weather has weakened considerably since being here.  I know my days here are numbered, though, and there is more I wish to see before I leave.

A bientot, and thanks for coming along.

Mark

Huit Cent Quatre-Vingt et Un Jours a Sceaux (881 Days in Sceaux)

First, my health update.  The leg is perfectly fine now.  No injury to the tendon -- it was under duress due to the swelling in the area.  Running is back to normal, though now interrupted by jet lag recovery.

Re-reading books on technical topics often brings new information and clarity. Running is a technical topic. I have been using my low heart rate target as a workout average target. Re-reading the book, I realized that my heart rate target is to be the MAXIMUM, and I am to work from that heart rate and 10 bpm below that number. I was progressing, but not as well as I had hoped, and the book explains that a sustained breaching of the target will retard my results. With all the hills I have to run, it means incorporating a lot of walking -- for now. Theory states (and the guy who wrote the book has trained many Ironman champions and scores of triathletes) that in time, I will run the hills without exceeding the target HR.

I went to Houston on business a couple of days after my last posting.  I was "back home" for almost two weeks.  It was great being back with family -- Pam and I watched Brady and Anna Belle (our grandchildren) for five days while mommy and daddy were out of town on a business trip (OK, I worked during the days, so Pam did the bulk of the "watching").  We had fun with the kids, they are so endearing, but also recognize the reasons why it is best have children when one is young.

The business trip was quite productive, but very busy as it involved multiple meetings with different groups.  I find myself surprised now as to how much time is lost driving in Houston from one meeting to another.  I worked there for 18 years, of course, and such travel was just a part of its fabric.  Now, coming back into it, I see it in a different perspective.

Another perspective has struck me as I travel back to the USA -- the freshness and rawness of "The New World".  There is a certain charm about the ages-old places in Europe; I am not suggesting otherwise.  Pragmatically, however, centuries-old cities and towns (way older than our nation!) have led to infrastructures so very, very dated, and too expensive to completely re-vamp and re-tool.  Those tiny streets are there because tearing down old, even utilitarian, buildings involves too much expense, for example.  There are hard limits as to what can be done.  Outside the core of such cities and towns, newer ideas on planning and infrastructure are employed.  This works well in the greater metro areas of the larger cities, but most of the small towns seem stuck in the 18th century.  On the contrary, coming back to the USA, and especially the western USA, SPACE is the first thing one notices, then the newness of everything, then the planning of communities.  Believe it or not, it just seems more well-ordered.  It evokes a sense of possibilities and new adventures.  Do not get me wrong, I love visiting various places here in France and Europe, and meeting what few I have the opportunity to engage -- it is fresh to me, in that moment.  But I also know, the Lord willing, that should I return in 20 years, things will not have changed much at all; there is a loss in the sense of dynamism.

I do not know how many of you ever watched the movie "The Neverending Story".  "The Nothingness" threatens to overtake the world of Fantasia, and the little boy reading the book is Fantasia's only real hope.  October in the Ile-de-France is like The Nothingness overtaking Fantasia.  The sunshine is gone, gray and rain dominate the days.  By the end of this month, we will already be down to less than 10 hours of "sun" each day.  We are at 10:28 hours of sun now (sunrise 8:21 to sunset 18:49), and lose about 3.5 minutes a day.  I know the sunshine has gone to Morocco, and it will be back sometime around April.

Fortunately, I return to the USA for more business next weekend, and will be there almost three weeks.  While this wrecks my sleep patterns, drinking in the sun will be nice, as well as the additional time with Pam, the girls, the family, and friends.

A bientot,

Mark

Huit Cent Soixante Jours a Sceaux (860 days in Sceaux)

OK, when I said I was going to do better, I did not mean almost a month between posts!  I meant "better" better!  Oh well, as Walt Disney said, "Keep moving forward".  We will do a little reverse order on this one, just for the sake of mental gymnastics.

This weekend has beautiful weather, but it remains boring and depressing.  Why?  I cannot go out into the sun for a nice long walk.  I have an injury to rest, and I have just reached the age that I accept the reality that my injury will heal faster if I let it rest.  Seriously though, matters could have been worse.  Details follow, in edited excerpts to family.

I suffered a little pain in my right shin muscle while running in Avignon (around the wall of the old city).  There was a spot of very uneven ground, and though I did not twist an ankle, I felt a pull on the shin.  It got tighter as the day went on, including yesterday.  I massaged it a bit, noticed a little edema, reminded myself to hydrate better...

I ran just over 8 miles this past Tuesday, with mild discomfort from the same area -- to be expected from a strained muscle, but did not hurt enough to force me to alter my gait.  It was a good run.  When I showered, I noticed the area was red.  This was not a strained muscle or tendon.  I did some quick checking on the Internet, and determined it was either thrombosis or a bacterial infection under the skin.  Both recommended immediate visit to the doctor.

I do have a doctor here, who signed for my medical approval to run the half-marathon in March.  I had to wait four hours to get in, and the doctor determined it was mostly likely the bacterial infection.  I am on an antibiotics regime for 14 days (currently on day 5), and getting 7 days of injections to thin the blood to prevent thrombosis from the clearing of the infection.  Yes, the doctor thoroughly inspected the area for "access", inspecting my feet (I have not run fully barefoot in a few weeks), and she could find no source point -- my hygiene is good.

After only 3 days of antibiotics, the redness has reduced.  The regime will continue, however.

We did an ultrasound on the affected area, and found no sign of abscess, but evidence of edema -- caused by the trauma of that one bad step I described at the beginning of the original e-mail.

The tendon itself is in tension, with the swelling around it forcing that state.  You can actually feel the tendon vibrate a bit when extend my toes or pull them back.  Running is out for awhile.  It was not running too much, or the wrong way, but one bad step...

I had to, at doctor's orders ("I am your captain", she said.  I then reminded her there is a song of similar name by Grand Funk Railroad), get blood tests done yesterday.  The clinic for drawing the blood opens at 0800 on Saturdays, and it opened exactly on time.  I was the first of about 20 to go in.  They verified my information, and in two minutes I was in having blood drawn.  Less than 10 minutes later, I was out the door.  Did I mention my doctor is the only one of these people who speaks English?  I had to do the ultrasound and blood test trips in French, and my French is not good.  I simply ask, "Parlez-vous anglais?"  (Do you speak English), and when they indicate they do not, I reply, "Je ne parle pas francais tres bien, patientez, s'il vous plait" (I do not speak French very well, be patient, please).  We managed to get everything done.

The leg continues to improve with the rest, and it is very good news that it is not a bacterial issue, which would have been far more serious.  I appreciate my doctor here, and the interest and concern and genuine care she has provided, including working me into her busy schedule, yet never making me feel she was hurried.

As I mentioned earlier, I went to Avignon last weekend.  Avignon is a beautiful city, and the old part the city is surrounded by its medieval wall. Avignon is known as the city of the Popes. It is an old, beautiful, vibrant city.  The old wall is still intact around the old part of the city, which made for a nice 5km run.  I stayed in a hotel in the heart of the city, which had been renovated to modern rooms by replacing the wall which faced an old alley and blending the new section as part of a new garden area for relaxing and dining.  You can see pictures of Avignon and the some of the hotel here.

I visited the surrounding areas (all part of the Rhone river valley -- the Rhone passes the old city of Avignon), including Chateauneuf-de-Pape (the world renowned wine region) and "Les Gorges de l'Ardeche" -- The Gorges of the Ardeche river.  The vineyards were full and ready for harvest, backdropped by the Alps, and the gorges were rugged and beautiful, with the still, deep Ardeche adding a welcoming calm at each bend.

Two weekends before last, I traveled to Perpignan to witness the vendange -- the harvesting of the grapes.  The regions around Perpignan, really, from the Spanish border to almost Nice, is simply full of vineyards.  It reminds one of the vast agricultural region of the San Joaquin Valley in California.  Much of it is harvested by hand, predominately local French of all ages, but mostly young, who avail themselves to a local labor cooperative, which in turn works out the scheduling of harvesting teams with the owners of the vineyards.  The vendage is about a two month effort.  Some vineyards have terrain which can accommodate machine harvesting, but the bulk of it is still done the old way.  I was able to lend a hand in harvesting a 100 meters row of 65 year old Carignan vines.  It is hard work, and everyone associated with the winery is involved in this "sweat equity" portion of the business.  For my hard work (really, my contribution was nothing), I drove on down to Banyuls-sur-Mer for a lunch overlooking the Mediterranean.  I really enjoy southern France, all of it, from Spain to the Rhone valley.  It is the place of the sun for France, and the people are friendly, speak more slowly (which really helps me), and have a more easy-going view of life, not unlike the American South.

So this catches me up, and on Wednesday I fly to Texas for business, but of course I get to stay with the family at Chateau Puckett a rue Moulin de Hickory...

a bientot!

Mark