A bit of this and a bit of that spun together with grace the same way we are. The people we know, the experiences we've had, are all brought together in one human being ... and I hope what there is of me is as beautiful as this gallimaufry scene.

Really?

My equally ex-pat German friend, equally married to an equally tall Swiss man, lives in the picturesque region of Morat... and it was time for a drive south to compare notes. :)



Charm is an understatement on the Swiss plateau.



Where tractors just mosey along...



And fields of colza spread out like a patchwork quilt.



Tiny winding streets...




Out here under a bigger sky than ours up in the Jura mountains, sunsets par excellence.



And ... well ... yes ... I was going 80 km an hour when I took this picture. (Don't tell hubby).

The tiny town of Belprahon is just down the road - and yet the only thing we do there is start our walk toward home...



"If you are a dreamer, come in."
--S.S.

... eggs ...

... eggs ...



... eggs ...



... too ...



... many ...



... eggs ...


:D

The Pichoux Canyons are ... not kid-friendly.




But I guess we ought to have known that before hiking up the steep incline (I'm looking at you, my alpine lover!).



A fiercely beautiful riverbed marked

Entry Prohibited - Danger ...



made us turn around from our originally-planned wanderweg to strike up my Russian's Plan B (he, incidentally, was safely at work that day!).



When I asked him that evening why he had sent us up such a deadly path with eight children in tow, his answer was so convinced...

"Well, I thought that if my horse could do it, so could you."

We inched our way back down on our behinds through the slippery leaves (I found a tick clamped to my neck last night, Sara!)...



And that's yours truly giving three kids an exhaustive lecture on why they may NOT play alone near the precipices... and why they must come back and help the moms stuck on the hillside with five smaller children!

I shall never forget... :)

Lay it down for just a while and run free and wild through the awakening woods.

Bonum est praestolari cum silentio salutare Dei.

I couldn't resist begging hubby to pull over for this shot. We actually took a 10 minute detour just to snap it! This...in my book... is just one too many gnomes.



Still, in a very unexpected and fiercely terrible way ... they make me smile!

Someone went to a lot of trouble to brighten up the neighborhood.



Who says I don't live in Disneyland?

Lady bug brightens her tiny world.

Secret garden door ... of the heart.

The someone living on the other side once wrote:

Trust is meaningless – why do you insist?
There is no truth in trust,
No definition that can stand
Against the word in action

Delusion would work better – you ought to know
Mirrored room, illusion
Heart on drugs
I do not believe a word you say.

Where, pray, is the key to that door?

Swiss gnomes generally hide out in gardens; this one sits proudly on his throne.

***

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***

In the fields where wild daffodils grow...





a walk through the woods.







Little women make daffodil crowns,



while little men set aside their pride to give into the innocent joy of flower picking.



Legolas strikes a pose ... did you know my Legolas was Russian? ;)

Driving boys up into the hills yesterday so they could mountain bike home, the world seemed to glow and frolic.



They took off at lightening speed like homing pigeons - but not before calling out over their shoulder ... "You're the coolest mom there is! Who else would strap a bike rack to the car and drive us out here?"



And all became very quiet and holy inside me - their words are the reverence of a lifetime. Ah! To be the coolest mom in the eyes of teenage boys! :)

Pots and cups lined up neatly on a pallet used in a former life for hard work: the art of giving meaning to the reality of the ordinary.

That little one on the right - all alone - that's me; scooch a bit closer, will you?

Last year they threw burning bits of paper out of his third-story bedroom window.

http://gallimaufrylife.blogspot.com/2010/04/wait-why-are-ashes-falling-on-my-head-i.html



This year they took a swim in the glacial waters of our pool, gasping and laughing as they pranced and shook and wiggled their skinny man-bodies in defiance of winter.



Wouldn't any self-respecting mother have outlawed such a thing? :D

The texture of new life.



Pattern and variety wash over me at every corner, after months of dull monotony. Eye massage - a quickening of spirit - sensory bliss.