Author Archives: TaminFrance

We tried to leave the Des Moines heat behind us by going to the BMW annual motorcycle rally in Essex Junction, Vermont, but this afternoon, the humidity, high temperatures, & heat advisory led me to leave the tent city to find refuge in an air-conditioned coffee shop called the Boxcar Bakery.

Essex Junction is near Burlington, in northwestern Vermont. Lake Champlain is to the west (along with New York) & Montreal is just 2 1/2 hours north.

We loved driving through Canada to get here, crossing the border at Port Huron, Michigan into Sarnia, Ontario. Seeing road signs in French and English of course made me happy. Passing through a bit of Ontario & Québec before dropping south again near Montreal we were able to see several Tim Hortons located in the OnRoute rest areas along the main highway, #401.

At a smaller gas station, I asked a woman if she spoke French, and she answered “oui” and smiled wide. She said she wasn’t so good at English, so we were both in heaven as we spoke French & she kindly filled my water bottle with cold water & my cup with ice. She explained that she lived in Québec even though her job at this gas station was in Ontario. “Take the next exit, and you’ll be in Québec!”

Later that day, I made Greg stop for a late French lunch in Québec before we re-entered the States. The town was St-Jean-sur-Richelieu & the restaurant was Les Belles Sœurs. We drove 15 minutes off the main route and then could not find parking for our pick up & trailer. No parking available, street construction, and one-ways made the old city center on the Richelieu River city very “difficile.” We ended up parking where we were clearly not to park.

But we took the risk because local man in Québécois French said “Why not risk it? Just for a lunch. You should be okay.”

We did. The scrambled egg-bacon-sausage filled crepes, hash browns, maple syrup, apple filled crepe with maple syrup too & fresh fruit with free fair trade coffee, everything, including the art & the French speaking waitress & clientele made it “parfait” for me, except I was worried about the parking and walked to check on the parking situation while Greg waited for our food. It arrived promptly. Well before I got back. Then I shoveled mine in so I could get back to the truck before it was towed away. But all was fine. I had forgotten that things are pretty laid back in Québec.

At the rally, we have met folks from Canada, Illinois, Michigan, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Georgia, and even Knoxville, Iowa! My favorite part of this rally is meeting people and listening to their stories.

This morning we met a couple from Michigan: Dennis & June. Dennis grew up in a farm on New Foundland. He left at age 16 because he didn’t want to farm as his father had. (The hard way.) He had hoped to get back to the island; but life happens, as he said. After the rally, are headed to New Foundland & then St Pierre et Miquelon, so talking with them was easy. He gave us places to stop and the names of several singers from New Foundland: Alan Doyle & Amelia Curran for starters. I told him about my beloved Canadian folk singer, Stan Rogers.

That’s all for today, but I hope to write a bit & share a few photos as we continue exploring the northeastern part of the US and maritime Canada and France.

Thanks for reading. Please respond & share my blog with any you think might enjoy it!

An unpleasant photo of me as I spend way too much time on my phone finding out what is going on in Minneapolis and elsewhere in our country. I hate how angry my husband is all the time, ever since Renee Good and now Alex Pretti were killed. I hate how his 92-year-old father is so upset and sad, seeing our country fall from our once decent state. I hate knowing that so many members of our oldest generation are thinking, “Whatever happened to the world we once knew?”

On Sunday, I sent information about Alex Pretti’s execution on the streets of Minneapolis to some family members, and told others, and they were surprised. They hadn’t heard of it yet. It is time to let everyone know what is happening. The BBC is sharing what is going on in the USA with the world. All Americans need to be aware of what happened Saturday morning in Minneapolis. And blaming the victim is not okay.

We need to know what is happening and we need contact our elected officials with our thoughts, opinions. After once again writing to Senators Grassley and Ernst, I decided that I should also write to our president. I had not written to Donald Trump before, but I decided if I really think we need to express ourselves, I should include him. On this cold January evening, I stayed home and am trying to stay warm. I know that so many others are out there posting, and I have to stop reading and scrolling. Surely I have some real work to do! ??? But, it is hard to stop. Finally, once again, I felt compelled to write here in my blog space. So, here you have it: my letter to our curent president. I hope he listens and responds. I hope he listens to what so many in our country are saying through their letters and their protests. Or, as my friends say, he will have to listen come midterms.

Dear Mr. President, January 26, 2026

I am writing to implore you to change your policies regarding immigrants.  I ask that you pull ICE out of Minneapolis and that you stop supporting the ICE forces that have been overly militarized. The people of the USA do not want you to continue the harassment and deportation of innocent persons, and already, two persons, Renee Good & Alex Pretti, in Minneapolis have paid the price for standing up to the evil that is taking place in our cities.  Please stop.  Do not defend ICE killings and violence with lies from you or from any of your people. You can change course and be a better president for our country.  

Please do remember the Constitution; and please do remember God. If you do those two things, you will not continue on the path you have been on, regarding ICE.

Sincerely,  

Tamara Andrews

a Christian, born and raised conservative & Republican, now more progressive

a proud retired public school educator – of many immigrants who enrich our country

a daughter of a WWII Vet

a world citizen who wants to be proud to be an American again

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Below is some chicken noodle soup I made a while back. It is another one of those January nights when we need this kind of comfort food. .

I just discovered that my husband made cookies, so I guess that will have to do for tonight.

Simple sugar cookies. Maybe that’s what we all need. Good night & stay safe and warm.

I have to say something. I cannot sit back and listen to what is happening in our country and just read and view and not say anything. I am a sleeping writer, a blogger who fails to blog. I am lazy. I prefer to read about French history and plan my future hikes on quiet pilgrim’s trails in rural France. This spring, I even hope to visit Amsterdam and tour the Van Gogh Museum and the Anne Frank House. That history. That terrible time when Europe was invaded, when France and other countries were occupied by the Nazis. So interesting to study that complex time and learn about how some people resisted, aided the Jews, or collaborated with the Nazis and denounced Jews.

I am not into politics. But persons who said they were not political during the Occupation of Europe were ultimately judged to be selfish and not respected. What side of history will I be on? I would so much rather be doing my own selfish things today. But the news will not let me do anything else this morning; I cannot continue to be quiet. ICE is overstepping. ICE is not using decent tactics. All humans are valuable and deserve to be treated fairly and respectfully. Folks are showing up to witness what is going on. There is so much more, and I cannot begin to examine everything. We all know that there are at least two sides to every incident. But, Renee Nicole Good should not be dead. I will speak up on this matter, and if my family and friends disagree, that is okay. We have the right to disagree with one another and listen to one another’s opinions.

Now, on to Greenland. I do not want the USA to try to buy or take Greenland or any other country. I would maybe someday like to visit Greenland and see icebergs and the Northern Lights. To my family and friends in Europe and Canada, I am sorry for what our leadership is doing. I am a peace-loving person who is ashamed of our actions abroad and here at home. So many people are so much more informed and eloquent than I, but at least I have broken my silence here this morning.

I wrote to my Congress persons and my Representative first thing this morning. I have done that many times before, but what good does it do? Thank you for reading. I bet there are many Americans out there who may be thinking like me. Others may completely disagree.

I so want to be proud to be an American again. My dad served in WW II and was in England and France. Our parents’ generation fought, sacrificed, gave their very best, and won against fascism back then. The US helped rebuild Europe. We were rightly respected and appreciated. I wonder what my dad and the other Vets would think of what’s going on today. Finally, I pray for our military personnel, especially the young persons who are being asked to risk their lives for today’s missions.

The American Cemetery in Normandy, France

Finally, something worth writing about!

Hog Walk 3, Van Buren County, Iowa, November 1st, 2025

“Hog Walk?  What’s that?”  I’ll try to be brief. 

A few years back, my hubby Greg read an 1880’s historical account of an 11-mile, late October walk, with two men and two boys followed by a horse and wagon, guiding some 60 hogs on the hoof south to market in Bonaparte from their farm three miles east of Stockport; this event was described in Tarpleywick, a book by Henry C. Taylor, which recounts the history of a farm in Van Buren County. The farmer chose to walk the hogs starting at 5 pm to keep the animals cool. He also hoped there would be less traffic on the road at night. The small group walked about one mile an hour and got to Bonaparte early in the morning. The hogs rested a while before being sold, probably to be transported by train to a bigger market. After the sale, the group was able to ride in their horse-drawn wagon back to their farm, which was also called Tarpleywick. Voilà: a 19th Century Hog Walk, Greg’s inspiration for our 21st Century Hog Walk.

Greg thought that we should enact this local, “historical” event. He wanted to do it as close to the exact account as possible. So, in late October, 2023, we drove to the intersection near the old Tarpleywick farm. We departed the corner of Vine and 130th Street in NE Van Buren County at 5 pm. It was gravel and very flat at first.

We had to cross Highway 16 (which runs east and west) and continue south, and from here on, the north-south road (Vine, aka W40) was paved. (None of the roads in the 1880s were paved. We didn’t have any hogs along with us in 2023, either.) But we had a few enthusiastic historical reenactors, bundled up for the late October weather. The sun set very soon and an almost full moon rose to our southwest. We noticed rises and falls in the previously perceived flat countryside. We noticed a closed clapboard church (Harrisburg Baptist)  on the west side of the road and and enormous Cottonwood tree further down on the left. Soon we were seeing large, tidy Amish homes with clothes lines and buggies, and later, once it was completely dark, a mystical herd of horses that ran together along the eastern fence, probably as surprised by the slow-moving band with fluorescent jackets as we were surprised by their movement in the night. 

We were finally just north of Bonaparte, and the road started curving, there also appeared trucks and tractors, heading north up the road on which we were trekking south. But the shoulders were small or non-existent, and there were deep ravines on each side.  And the road seemed to be very busy, perhaps because it was harvest season. A huge combine was coming toward us; my cousin and I quickly slid down in the ditch. It was difficult to climb back up to the road!  And as soon as we did, another vehicle came speeding up the road.  Down we went again.  We finally reached Bonaparte, and were happy to cross the road and walk toward the tall brick Bonaparte school before we took a few quiet streets to Eric & Cathy’s Victorian farmhouse on the northwestern edge of town where we would have our feast.  Problem was it was after 10 pm when the last walker trudged in, cold and tired with wet, muddy feet.

Many folks had already taken advantage of our sag wagon support and had been enjoying the warmth of the home for a few hours in anticipation of our arrival.  We all agreed it was fun, but dangerous and painful for many of us.  Only two people, Greg and his daughter Elizabeth did the entire 11 miles. No kids walked the first year.

The second year, 2024, we had more walkers, and our first child: our nine-year-old granddaughter named Joanie.  We decide to leave Tarpleywick at 3 pm to avoid getting in so late.  We had nicer weather and no mud.  New walkers joined us, from as far as Washington State and Washington, Iowa!

Many good conversations were had, new friends made, beautiful photographs taken, by Eric Weston, and our sag vehicles (driven by 90-year old ellis Andrews and Andy) made sure everyone was able to quit whenever they chose.

This year a group of farm kittens welcomed the merry band of walkers, but wouldn’t let them go without trailing along. A huge semi barreled over one of the kitties, and miraculously did NOT flatten it.  However, this traumatized the 9-year-old and her father and anyone who witnessed the near-death of an innocent creature. The kitty was stressed and scratched a couple of our walkers who tried to take it back to its home. What a drama!  Just a mile or two down the road, the same busy road with the trucks, tractors, combines, and Friday night traffic north of Bonaparte made arriving to town around 8 pm still very unpleasant and dangerous. Cathy had made our arrival even more special this year. Candles in the windows, Tiki torches in the front yard and the delicious smells of our harvest feast along with candles inside made arrival at our friends’ home a true comfort.  More people walked the entire 11 miles this year.  Leslie set the pace this year, and helped keep the rest of us moving, always straining our eyes to see her far ahead in the distance. A good time was had by all inside, and three tables of people and overflowing tables of food made it magical. But all of the dishes were left for our kind hosts, who would NOT let anyone else help! So we all headed home very late and happy to have completed Hog Walk 2.

But a few weeks after hog walk 2, the walkers  spoke up: We will not walk on that busy road ever again! We will not walk in the dark!  And one person insisted:  We will not leave mountains of dishes for our friends ever again!  Something had to change.  So, much to Greg’s disappointment, Hog Walk 3 would not be on the same route, nor at the same time, nor to the same destination as the original historical event. 

Hog Walk 3 made everyone happy! We had a good time together.  The faithful crew insisted we keep the original name, no matter where or when we walk.

So, to recap this year’s 2025 event.  A group of 19 Iowans (and two Illinois folks) gathered in Van Buren County on  Saturday, November 1st to walk south and west, from the old Veatch homestead (built circa 1852 by Greg’s forebears) located northeast of Stockport, down dirt and gravel roads, taking in the mostly harvested fields of corn and soy beans, eventually ending in the historic village of Bentonsport, for a potluck. 

Why? To continue the tradition.  To walk just for the sake of walking and getting close to what rural Van Buren County really is. To have a rest stop at the old stone school located next to the old Phillips place at the corner of Teal and 170th Street, and recall that once a school, later a hog building, now just a beautiful old building that we never would have noticed without walking this route.  (We did get permission from owners Sheryl Chapuis and Terry Phillips to have our 5-mile or so rest stop here. Too bad it was in the rain.) 

We had even more rain and some cold, but fortunately, it passed, and once we got south on Spruce Avenue (aka W30), the blue skies returned, gorgeous white clouds appeared, and we saw Amish horses and even a tom turkey and his harem on the road before we turned right on Ridge Road and passed the Amish school on the left and a very small cemetery also on the left before passing the main Bentonsport Cemetery on the right before descending into beautiful Bentonsport with the 1851 Bentonsport Presbyterian Church to our right.

Some walkers sagged and others joined us for the last few miles. The two children had fun playing school  in the Stone House in Bentonsport, where we had our potluck this year. We got in earlier than planned, giving plenty of time to visit or play games. Some folks had time to explore Bentonsport and even crossed the river on the pedestrian bridge at sunset.

We missed the candles and the late-night arrival in Bonaparte, but we loved the safe, easy route with no trucks or semis, no combines or tractors. We loved the soft dirt roads, the nice gravel underfoot when it was raining. We loved the spacious open machine shed just when we needed a shelter.  We loved the cows, the sheep, the horses and the trees and the few remaining fields of soybeans we passed. 

A few Amish waved at us, probably wondering what in the heck we were doing. And, should anyone think this year’s Hog Walk had nothing to do with hogs, we did smell the recently spread manure (from hogs) and we passed at least three hog confinements.  Hog Walk 3 was a success, not perfect, as nothing ever is, but it was another time for friends and family to get together and walk the land that we call home. There is always something to learn from the land we pass over on foot (or on bicycle) and from those we travel beside. 

Thank you to all those who came this year. 

We hope to continue the tradition, and we will let you know what the route is for Hog Walk 4 – as soon as we have it figured out! It looks like it will be October 31st, 2025, somewhere in Van Buren County!

Well, I knew I wanted a guided tour of Cartier’s home. I showed up at 10 am Thursday to the Quebec House, a 5-minute walk from my hotel. Several women were near the door but they explained to me that this house was closed. I insisted that there was a guided visit scheduled for 10. I got out my brochure even. They looked at it and patiently explained that Cartier’s country home was where the tour would take place. I would need to take a bus.

So, Friday morning I set out bright and early! I had to take bus #3 to Rothéneuf for 2 Euros. 35 minutes later I was deposited in the center of a little village. I found a tabac/bar and ordered in cafe & croissant and was able to read a local newspaper before spotting these women and fellow walkers.

I had to walk another good half mile to find the deserted old farm. It was all locked up. I walked to the back and found a large empty parking lot. At about 10 till ten, a car pulled up with a couple with two children. They had reservations for a tour; I did not. But finally the friendly guide met us in and assured me all was fine because it was quiet today-not like the summer season.

Finally we were inside the stone walls in the courtyard of this simple country manor. Our guide explained that when Jacques Cartier bought this small farm, only 1/3 of what you see above was present. He added the central part, and the third part (on the far right) was added much later and serves as an entrance to the visit. This building still has no water and no heat save a space heater for the guide in that entrance room.

She explained the importance of that large compass as well as an astrolabe and hourglass timer (of various lengths of time) and that coil of rope with a bobber and regular markers. So much work went into navigating where one wanted to go! I was impressed and humbled at the knowledge they possessed and used. And the crew was taking measurements of direction and speed every hour-it seemed. The crew had to be divided into teams to rest and then be on duty again because she made the point-they were traveling 24/7. They did not take breaks so the crew could sleep at night.

Our guide was wonderful. She explained where the furniture came from and even where the stones for this dining room floor originated: In Burgundy. They were brought here via boats down river and then across the Mediterranean and finally up the coast of western France. The family was super attentive! Parents and kids! The little girl had no socks and sandals with bare legs. I was getting cold. I was getting tired of all the info in French so fast. I was wondering if there would be a bathroom anywhere on the site or would I have to walk another good half mile back to town. And I couldn’t act like I wasn’t interested!

The tour finally officially ended at about noon. After asking about and using the modern toilets – in another stone building that was built after Cartier died. I rejoined the group to watch our second film. It was all about other French explorers that came after Cartier. The film was projected on a relief of North America, showing where so many French explorers and trappers and voyagers travelled. Des Moines appeared on that map and I was able to share that I lived there!

To wrap up this too long post, I want to share the most interesting things I learned from this tour. Cartier grew up in Saint Malo and worked on boats from an early age. He became so skilled that he became a master pilot, one who went out to meet arriving ships and guided them safely into the Saint Malo port. By the age of 30, he was a respected captain who had travelled far. He married well, and was able to meet King Francois 1 at Mont Saint Michel when the king wanted to fund an exploration to North America to find resources and another sea route to China. Cartier got the job and made three voyages. He brought back what he thought were precious stones, but they were nothing that France didn’t already possess. Francois even laughed at him and considered his efforts unsuccessful. But, we all know that they were not. His name is on many a hotel & business and he is probably St Malo’s most famous citizen. He’s even more famous in Canada! His explorations did not make him rich, though he was still respected in St Malo. The town was crowded and dirty at that time, so if people could, they would live elsewhere in the summers. He lived either in Saint Malo or his country home until his death in 1557.

This monument also is impressive from the outside, but it was my personal walking tour this time, with an audio guide, that helped me understand why it’s important: Remembering.

She’s back in all her glory. Better than ever. Crowds and lines and the reported need for reservations kept us away from her Thursday afternoon. But at the 8 am mass the next day there were no lines at all. About 100 folks worshiped in the awesome, uplifting space. I tried to focus on the young African priest and his excellent reading of scripture and clear message of God never abandoning us, but my eyes were so often lifted up to the high white vaulted ceiling by the huge white pillars and also to the upper levels’ statues and windows. The choir space of rich wood extending way behind the altar and behind the 5 priests who presided over the Eucharist, the expanse of it all, the high, far eastern window with light shining in on the famed crown of thorns, and even the quiet passing of the visitors around the ambulatory reminded me that I wasn’t in any old church, but the most famous church in the world.

Notre Dame was worth a mass to me. If attending a Catholic service first thing in the morning would get me into the restored Gothic gem after the devastation of the April 2019 fire, I was up for it.

So much care has gone into the repair and restoration, it was hard for me to imagine the destruction of the fire. On my walking tour after the service, I just kept thanking God that it was saved. Thankful for all the persons who worked to make it shine again. Perhaps that is the great lesson: We can repair and restore what is almost lost. Notre Dame symbolizes the best of humanity. Its restoration gives hope to all of us.

Here are a few impressions:

It’s all Terri’s fault. She’s a Johnston friend who decided to make learning French one of her top goals in retirement. She had travelled with Kari Gray and me and a small group during the summer of 2019. After an inspiring Alliance Française event this winter, Terri mentioned that she would love to take a week-long immersion class in France, but she didn’t want to travel alone. A seed was planted. After a couple months, I called to ask whether she might want to travel with me. I love being immersed in French, and I absolutely wanted to see Notre Dame again; helping her with trains and busses would be my pleasure. We started planning in February and “nous voilà” – in France for two weeks together and me staying one more week in La Bretagne. We hope our 4 days in Paris will be less touristy and more immersive, as Terri warms up for her class in Volvic.

Here are a few highlights from our first few days:

More to come, but my breakfast writing time is over for the day!

This time with Tammy

Where to start? The beautiful, never-ending Luxembourg Gardens. It’s a couple blocks from our Hôtel Des Mines in the 5th arrondissement. Statues of French queens, a large man-made pond with small sailboats, so many light-green metal chairs, and even more people. Sitting, sunning, walking, running, chatting, reading, napping, or picnicking, they all seemed to be enjoying the sunshine and warm weather. Just like me. I’ll explain more about this trip in my next post, but I wanted to share just a few more photos from day one in Paris.