Us

Just the two of us on a chilly day at Mitaki-Dera. A perfect day for enjoying the autumnal parade of leaves, genki white-haired Japanese hikers, a magical bamboo forest, breathtaking views of Hiroshima and the bumpy islands of the Seto Inland Sea. We didn't know what to expect which is when the best things seem to happen. We hadn't packed water or food so we were starving at the end of our hike. I had to pee on the side of the trail. Adam had to help older hikers cross a little stream. We were tired but giddy with the adventure of it. And giggly with this time for just the two of us. We needed this day so very much. And at the end of the hike we entered the tiny cafe with flushed faces, chilly hands, and gratitude for each other and warm cups of tea accompanied by mochi treats. 

End of Summer

Tonight marks the official end of summer for us. Tomorrow the kids start back to school and for the first time in ten years I am officially returning to work. I still have so much to post about Peru and other summer highlights, but for now here is a taste of one of our all-time favorite summer experiences: Babe's Sno Cones in St. Martinville, Louisiana. It's a long time summer tradition...one that my mom and her eight siblings took part in every summer, one that sweetened my childhood summers, and one that my own kids now crave on super hot days. 

During our trip to Louisiana this summer, we had snow cones just about every afternoon. And Babe's really are the best. Established in 1949 and still going strong! Head down Main Street, look for the little turquoise building, the long line of eager customers, the friendly staff, and pick out your favorite flavor (mine is nectar, but almond and peach are pretty good, too!). We are sad to say good-bye to summer, but there are lots of new adventures waiting for us and we know that Babe's will be a part of many more summers to come.  

Leaks and Leeks

The weather has been especially crazy recently. Flash flooding, interspersed with brilliant sunshine, then heaps of hail, followed by balmy-mild mannered days and for the past two nights we were bombarded by fierce winds. This March has been living up to the Italians' description: "Marzo Pazzerello"!

For the first time since living here, we have had leaks. Water pouring in windows, under doors, and drip, drip, dripping by our bed. Towels piled up each night in case a sudden storm blows inland and flashlights freshly filled with batteries. All of this crazy weather leaves me feeling a bit unsettled, which pushes me to seek out the comforts of furry slippers and soup. Soup reigns supreme in the comfort department, doesn't it?

But leeks are not something I would immediately associate with comfort. In fact, I have a hazy childhood memory of eating leeks for the first time. My parents' friend was dating a French woman who had gotten her hands on a crate of leeks and had eagerly invited us all over for a French meal of leeks. I remember the house being dark except for a few candles here and there and everyone oohing and ahhing over the strange green vegetables. Sounds a bit kooky and I could totally have the details wrong, but I do remember that I was not a fan of the leeks. They were gritty and too onion-y to me.

And I don't really think I ever had leeks again until recently when I felt the need to give them another try. It started with a favorite soup recipe. The original recipe always called for leeks but I never added them. And then one day I did and I suddenly loved them. Which led to the discovery of this easy leek and potato soup recipe. Truly a wonderful and comforting soup that I will make again and again. And if nothing else, aren't leeks some of the prettiest vegetables? That pop of green fits right in with this time of year when Spring is so tantalizingly close and yet still not fully here.