About the Explorers

<<Ça se fera.>> It will happen.

Since I was sixteen years old my daydreams have been filled with thoughts of frolicking around Europe, camera in one hand and a bottle of rosé in the other. In my dreams I picnic in front of castles in perfectly chic summer frocks while discussing philosophy or art or theater or something cultured. But, they were dreams, and, after a decade of dreaming, I had regulated them to the dream shelf. Sure, every once in a while I would look up work overseas and apply for a few positions here and there, never hearing back and never pursing opportunities further. <<Ça se fera>> I thought: it will still happen, when I get around to making it happen.

Each January as a new year came and I turned a year older I would tell myself that this is the year my European dream would come true, but there were always men whose dreams I waited for and a career that would not look kindly on girlish dreams of Disney fluff and reasons that, by February, it was always evident that it was, in fact, not the year. << Ça se fera.>>

And then a dashing, wonderful, loving, amazing Frenchman whom we really should call AmeriFrenchman came into my life, and before I knew it we were talking of marriage and the future. He was determined that his was to be graduate school, and I was still hoping for Europe though a bit less so: happiness and contentedness and security are settling. As he researched graduate programs one in particular caught his eye: a traveling master’s program around the European continent. <<Ça se fera>> we told ourselves. His admission into this program, it will would happen, hopefully.

And it did happen. Now, here we are in Europe. We have been married for a year and a half, together for three years, and living in Europe for a little more than a year. We will be here for a minimum of two years. Only our first year itinerary is known: honeymoon in Italy; Montpellier, France, for the month of September; Toulouse, France, from October through January; and Prague from February through June. We have several side trips planned, too, unrelated to the Frenchman’s study locales: London, Barcelona, Vienna, Pakistan, Paris, and the States. And that is only August through June!

I have been promising myself, and many of you, that I will start a blog about our adventures. <<Ça se fera.>> It will happen, when I have Internet and nothing more exciting going on. Today, tonight, it is happening because we have experienced much too much to not share, and the photo files are growing, unattended to, daily. So here we are. This, too, has happened.

It is my goal to incorporate many of the postings from my previous blogging attempt into this blog as it goes along. I may edit them a bit, repost them, or sneak them into the blog history. But this is where I will begin, with Europe. It did happen. We are here, and it is time to explore as many castles and museums and cheeses and wines and places as I can. I promise some seriousness, too, as life is not just about my European princess dreams, as the Frenchman would call them, and I share that in all seriousness and no mockery. (He truly is the perfect husband, wanting nothing more than for me to put on a pretty dress and go and look at a different castle each day, come home and tell him about my adventure over a bottle of wine and some stinky cheese as long as I am absolutely, blissfully happy.)

I am still defining a research goal, a “what” I want this blog to be, a purpose for this time in Europe. <<Ça se fera.>> It will happen, in time.

I hope you will join me on my explorations.

Honeymooning in Bellagio, Lake Como, Italy
Honeymooning in Bellagio, Lake Como, Italy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s