Simple pleasures, the Welsh girl who drove to France and 3 years ago today….

The past week or so has been filled with a refreshing combination of the simple pleasures in life.

This weekend I read an entire Nicholas Sparks novel in under 24 hours, had a girls’ night out with my German roomie (during which neither of us understood a word of the French dubbed Sherlock Holmes and indulged in take out pizza and a good red wine), had my best lap swim session to date and finalized some of my vacation plans (I know where I will be sleeping each night of the trip, so that’s an accomplishment).

As for this week, there has been ridiculous amounts of chocolate chip and chocolate chip with nut cookies – (baked for the family of my Monday night students they keep inviting me to stay for dinner… cookie time had come), excellent lessons, delicious food, laughter  (I love my foreigners in France), a great run, and our own Valentine’s celebration. I am a natural born organizer, so yes, we did have our very own Secret Santa meets Valentine’s Day a few days early gift exchange!

In other news, there is this moment when working out where every muscle feels like it is moving in unison, forward, toward something and everything else seems to cease to exist except for that moment and the forward motion. I have only ever gotten this feeling running, and much to my delighted surprise, I found it yesterday at the pool! I think it had been waiting for me to get my stroke in better shape, and voila, I would do FAST free style, followed by leisure breast stroke, then FAST free style, leisure breast stroke… it was amazing. My heart was pounding, my muscles burning and my spirit was positively delighted and refreshed. Two and a half weeks till my next pool session and I am already looking forward to it.

A fabulous pool story that cannot be left out – one day, Wales and I were chilling on the bench while the other American finished her post-swim beauty routine. Wales and I were chatting animatedly and sort of forgot we were in France and that animated chatting in English is not the norm… so these two young girls come out of the changing room and are walking in front of us then STOP, pause, turn and stare at us like we were aliens. Confusion ran wild, and once the girls were safely up the stairs we had a great outburst of laughter at the thought of Wales exclaiming “What?!?!” to the poor frightened little French girls, fortunately no what’s were said but the mental image is priceless.

Oh Wales. A nation with great leek related pride (yes, my roomie can incorporate leeks into most any dish). My particular Welshie is a lover of things. Her room is honestly bursting with some of the most useful (and useless) items a girl could ever ask for. Need a sleeping bag, she has at least three, blow up mattress, check… you get the idea. So we are sitting around eating lunch yesterday and I mention how bummed I am that I forgot my backpacking backpack at home because Germany will be wheel free while I struggle with a rolly-bag to keep pace through ancient Italian and Greek cities. AND what do you know, Wales proclaims she has a spare stored under her bed. Yes, a spare. Now I am equipped with the green “Karrimor” – and I love it. So the question must be asked, did she need to drive from Wales because she has so darn much stuff, or does she have so darn much stuff because she drove? What came first, the Welsh girl’s random positions or the trunk space?

On a slightly different tone- three years ago the 11^th of February was a Sunday. On that particular Sunday I was wearing sweatpants (the grey ones with the hole in the butt… only pre-hole), writing a poem for my French Composition class and restricted to my room as I was the Resident Assistant “on duty.” The evening ended with Shrek inspired peanut butter M&M’s (so they were green and orange and HUGE), an AWEFUL movie (which I only suffered through because of the company) and a kiss goodnight that made all the difference in life. I hereby proclaim today the third year anniversary of sweatpants, Shrek peanut butter M&M’s and the type of first kiss to last a lifetime.