Escape (again) to France

Happy Valentine’s Day, February Snow & Dreams of the Stevenson Trail

Dear Friends,

So many folks whom I admire create or write. Not being particularly creative, I still need to write. It helps me be satisfied for having worked at expressing something. Writing in my journal is good, but having even one other person get something from my words, is better. Since 2021, I’ve tried to spend more time reading so I could have the “cred” to write something worthwhile, but I know in my heart that writers are simply people who write. And there is never an end to reading more to be more informed. I’ve been wrong in thinking that my life in Iowa isn’t as interesting as my life in France. Everyone’s life is interesting, if examined and reflected on well.

But today’s title reveals my promptings. In the winter (without a plan to escape the cold and snow by going south), I have to do a lot to keep my spirits up. I walk, swim, make lists of things to do, write letters, watch movies, read some more, sign up for yoga classes, join fitness clubs, volunteer, and over fill my calendar to give me reasons to get up and get going. But the thing that really helps me escape and have hope is making plans for my next walk in France.

The Stevenson Trail in southeastern France is my next dream. As I pick up my blog today, I plan tell you a bit about my life here in Iowa and also let you know something from my research for my next (God willing) walk in France.

Robert Louis Stevenson (not yet a famous writer) walked this path in September of 1878 to distract himself after his love Fanny returned to America. He also was interested in the Camisards (aka Huguenots), a group of French Protestants in the area and their persistent and armed struggle for religious freedom in the early 1700’s. He wrote a small book called Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes, which recounts his journey. It’s only 85 pages long, but worth reading because of his struggles with his donkey Modestine and his description of the locals and the Protestants who lived there. I’m looking forward to walking where he walked and learning about Protestants in France. Most of France’s religious history is Catholic, so this will be different and closer to my faith tradition. Below is the French guide to this trail which I read before sleeping to feed my dreams. Miam Miam Dodo is a fun title for where to eat and sleep while on these paths.

As far as my days here? Along with reading Stevenson, I peel an apple each morning and put the peels out on the back terrace. Each morning fat, brown, bushy-tailed Mr. Squirrel comes and enjoys my offerings. I eat the apple with my oats and he eats the peels while peering in at us at the dining room table. My guys tell me I need to name him, and I’m thinking on that. One day he had another squirrel with him, perhaps Mrs. Squirrel, but that was the exception. Or could it be Mrs. Squirrel who comes each morning? Till next time!