I'm not in Kansas anymore...

After three and a half months of not seeing each other, Alex and I finally got to reunite in Paris on the first! He missed his connecting flight from Dublin to Paris, and so I anxiously spent the morning with Kendra, her role being calming my nerves and teaching me a few more chords on her guitar. Thanks, K. We also stopped by to pay respects to the dearly departed resting in Père Lachaise Cemetery.

We spent three delicious days in Paris, soaking in each other the views from our apartment. I failed as a tour guide as we spent most of the time catching up. Our final day was a complete flop as we attempted to make up for lost time, scrambling this way and that to complete the few errands we had to do. We ended up missing our train, after running all over the city in search of a MoneyGram and running up 6 flights of stairs to return the keys to our apartment. Oy. We weathered it well and in good humor, after all there is not much that can bring you down from cloud nine.

Our first night in Guéret was funny. Kendra missed her bus and thus all three of us climbed into my double bed and attempted to sleep. I think Kendra and I had more fun than Alex, as he had the least amount of room at the edge of the bed. We stayed up late bonding over Flight of the Conchords... Pamplemousse.

The next night, Alex and I went on a late night walk around the Courtille. He took some beautiful pictures and we stayed warm by running halfway around the thing. We started to do the obstacle course, but quickly got bored with it.

All leading up to this was my lovely English vacation starting at the dog farm... 

I went to my Aunt Jo and Uncle Marc's house outside of Manningtree, UK. They breed enormous Italian mastiffs, Cane Corsos, of which they have 13 at the moment. The second I arrived from the airport, it was time to eat some delicious food cooked by Auntie Jo, and then off to mate the dogs. What?!

What a lucky girl, you're thinking, but here's the kicker, I got to do it twice! If you know anything about dog breeding you know that they really like to spoon afterwards and for quite a while.

Grandma and Grandpa came from Minnesota, and it was really nice to have some family from home. They made Christmas feel like it's supposed to.

The rest of Christmas was a mix of relaxing walks in the country, sitting by the fireplace, hectic family gatherings and huge feasts brought to you by Jamie Oliver and some other celebrity chef whose name reminds me of jell-o. We gave the Christmas turkey a bath and I also enjoyed proper Christmas pudding for the first time.

My cousin was given a California King snake from Santa and he named it Flossy.

Uncle Marc gave us an astounding rendition of an Avril Lavigne song. All of us huddled into the lounge for most of the night singing karaoke, and I kicked his butt when we sang Fernando by ABBA.

The 27th, I trained into London to find my Kendra. We checked into an awesome hostel down the block from the British Museum. We went exploring, found a Thai restaurant, interrogated the movie theatre across the street about why they weren't playing Vicky Christina Barcelona (to which the clerk responded by saying "Are you speaking Spanish?), and decided to scrap it all and go fishing in Leicester Square.

The first night in London was rudely interrupted by some drunk "emo boy" breaking into our room at 2:00 am, asking us if we had seen a phone charger. I was so livid, I charged upstairs after him and found out that he was a drunk who had outworn his welcome at the hostel and had in fact stolen the key to try and find an empty bed. I liked the hostel too much to let that slip by, and told the big New Zealanders the next morning. They reacted like overprotective big brothers, and Kendra and I were appeased.

We went wandering all over the city, attempted to watch the changing of the guards, but decided it was too boring. I made the mistake of making my opinion public, and some offended American lady went off on me. "Nobody watches you walk around because you don't do anything special. They do." Kendra and I marched off à la beefeaters. I hope she enjoyed her show.

Now, my dear friend Kendra's last name is Goostrey and in England there is a tiny little town called Goostrey and to it we went! I booked us a room at the most darling B&B, and we hopped a train from London to go experience Cheshire charm.
It was cold and cute and we spent an entire day in bed reading one book a piece. There is an absolutely huge satellite dish in the back yard of the farm we stayed on, call the Jodrell Bank Observatory

The picture opportunities in the town were limited, so we got creative.

Breakfast was beautiful and properly English. I had black pudding the second morning we were there and enjoyed it all.

Now, back in Guéret, with my man, and my girl. I returned to work on Monday, and have to say I missed my new home, missed my students and missed the calm of not traveling. Alex and I spent a few nights with Kendra in her school, learned how to play Pinochle and put on a play.

Much more to come, I feel at home and happy!

Happy New Year!