Everyone Loves an Irish Pub

One of the things I found out when I was in France with my husband last week is that no matter where you go in the world, you can probably find an IRISH PUB! We found one on the streets of Nice......and we found one on the streets of Monte Carlo...
..and for some reason, this surprised me--although maybe it shouldn't have. The Irish are a humorous and fun-loving people, and Irish pubs are usually full of song and blarney, laughter and partyin' (partyin'--yeah!), pints of beer and hearty toasts. For example, Finnegan might raise his glass and say to you, "May the good Lord take a liking to you...but not too soon." Who wouldn't want to hang out with an Irish crowd?

And the Irish are not afraid to make jokes at their own expense, either. I think they may be the least sensitive people on the planet. You want to call them a bunch of drunks on the verge of fisticuffs with the other pub patrons? They'll call themselves that, and worse. For instance, here's a typical Irish joke:

SIGN IN AN IRISH PUB: This establishment closes at 11 o'clock sharp. We are open from 10 a.m. until 11 p.m., and if you haven't had enough to drink at that hour the management feels that you haven't really been trying.

And here's another:

O'Connell was staggering home with a bottle of whiskey in his back pocket when he slipped and fell heavily. Struggling to his feet, he felt something wet running down his leg. "Please, God," he implored, "let it be blood."

And one more:

Murphy told Quinn that his wife was driving him to drink. Quinn thinks he's very lucky because his own wife makes him walk.

I married into a family of Irishmen, and I can tell you that they're fun, they're great story-tellers (really full of blarney), they have a great sense of humor, and they do like to raise a glass of beer at parties. When we are all gathered at my husband's childhood home, it's BETTER than being in any Irish pub you could find (even though they seem to be located all over the world). I'm going to leave you now with an Irish toast that fits the season:

May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch on your door, and happiness be guided to your home by the candle of Christmas. Slainte!

Infant of Prague Statue

Back on November 20, I blogged about a damaged and unwanted Infant of Prague statue that I'd rescued from the back of a church we visited one Sunday in Upstate NY. This statue of the Child Jesus was missing a thumb and a cross, and He needed to be dressed. I fell in love with His sweet painted face (although He had no eyebrows!), and I envisioned how beautiful He could be with a little TLC. Here is the before picture:I soon got to work on my little labor of love. First, I painted on some eyebrows. Next, I fashioned a thumb and a cross out of Sculpey (a modeling clay that can be hardened by baking it in the oven), painted them, and glued them in place. Then I sewed a lace-trimmed red robe, using red velveteen and off-white lace that I'd found in my late mother-in-law's attic during a recent visit to my husband's childhood home. I needed a crown for my statue, but when I found one that would have been perfect in a Catholic goods catalog, the price was between $30 and $40, which I thought was much too steep. So I made a crown out of gold-colored poster board and gold rope trim, both of which I had already, and found some cheap plastic "gems" at Wal-Mart that I glued on to finish it off with a royal touch. I think my Infant of Prague is so lovely now! Here's the after picture:The Infant of Prague can be dressed in different colors that correspond to the different liturgical seasons on the Catholic Church calendar. There are four basic colors that are normally used:

White: festive color of purity and holiness--Easter and Christmas
Red: color of blood and fire, royal color--Holy Week, Pentecost, feasts of the Holy Cross
Violet: solemn color symbolising repentence--Lent and Advent
Green: color of life and hope--ordinary time

And here is a quote I found on a Catholic website that explains the reason for dressing this statue:

"The ancient tradition of dressing the grace-giving statue of the Infant of Prague is intended to bring Jesus closer to the faithful as a real human being. It helps us to experience the closeness of Jesus and to express our love and reverence. It is not a case of idolatry, for the statue is not alive and it serves only as a reminder and a means of enabling a spiritual encounter with the living Christ.

The statue itself represents Jesus as a very small child, wearing a simple gown. This statue, sublime in its simplicity, is dressed in a white alb and royal robes to express the thought that is common to all Christians, that this child is a king of the house of David, and, what is more, that Jesus is Son of God and God himself, King of Kings and Lord of Lords."

Feast of the Immaculate Conception

Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, a holy day of obligation for Catholics worldwide. It is a day that we honor the Blessed Virgin Mary, who--when She appeared to St. Bernadette in 1858--actually called Herself this, saying to the little peasant girl, "I am the Immaculate Conception."

Many people mistake this term, thinking it refers to the fact that Mary, despite being a virgin, conceived and gave birth to the Baby Jesus. The term actually speaks to the fact that Mary, the Mother of the Savior of the human race, was born without original sin through a singular privilege granted by God. This title reminds us that She, and She alone, is the one human being who was born sinless and possessed grace from the beginning.

I am planning to attend a morning Mass at my local church. It's a nice enough church, but rather plain and unadorned inside. I keep thinking of the glorious Catholic churches I was lucky enough to see when I was in Nice with my husband just a few days ago. (The interior of one is pictured below, but the photo really doesn't do it justice). As I already mentioned, I was reduced to tears the first time we walked inside one of these exquisite French churches. I wouldn't mind being able to attend all Sunday Masses and holy days of obligation in such heavenly surroundings!

What's Wrong with This Picture?

Today is the anniversary of the devastating Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, when we remember and pray for all of the souls who lost their lives that fateful day while serving this great country of ours. Normally I would do a post dedictated entirely to that event, and perhaps I should.

I can't seem to stop talking about my trip, though. Did you know I just came back from a trip to Nice? Have I told you that yet? Well, I did! And it was the most amazing experience! Before this trip, the only places I'd ever been outside the borders of the U.S. were Cancun (where we went for our honeymoon in the summer of 1982, about a year and a half after we got married), Bermuda (which we visited in 1991 with our four oldest boys, when my husband's brother and his family were stationed there at the Naval base), and Canada (which is so close to where I grew up that it never really seemed like a foreign country). Even though my husband's job has been taking him to cities all over Europe for the past fifteen years, I had never been across the Atlantic Ocean before I accompanied him on this awesome four-day trip to the Cote d'Azur. I can't stop thinking about all of the beautiful scenery I saw and how different things are over there than they are here.

Although, there was one hauntingly familiar, uber-American (and completely incongruous!) thing that kept popping up during my European holiday. Look closely, and see if you can find what's wrong with this picture taken on the streets of Nice:

Now see if you can find it here, in Monaco--that idyllic little thoroughly European principality:

Remember that song on "Sesame Street," the one that went something like "one of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong"? Can you see something in these pictures that doesn't belong?

What is the deal with the golden arches popping up all over southern France?!

Okay, now I better come clean: I did order a coffee at a McDonald's in Nice on Sunday morning. I doubt Grace Kelly ever did that. But before you judge me, let me explain that it was a cafe au lait and tasted nothing like any coffee you would get in a Mickey D's over here. And I promise you, after that one slip I immersed myself in local culture and got my caffeine fixes strictly from little French establishments.

More on Our Trip

I'm still on a high this morning after my first trip to Europe with my husband. On the way back home, when we were on the JFK-to-Boston shuttle, my husband ran into another pilot he knows; and when this guy found out I'd gone to Nice, he said he thought that was the nicest of all their airline's European destinations. I've never been anywhere else, so I have nothing with which to compare it; but I do know that I loved Nice SO much. And I can attest to the fact that the area in which it is located--on the coast of southern France, right by the sea--is just indescribably beautiful. I am a huge fan of the Cote d'Azur, let me tell you. I would go there again (and I might, if the opportunity ever arises).

And if we ever get back to Monaco, my husband and I decided we might look into buying this sweet yacht called "Little Fish." It's bigger than our house. It's pretty nice, n'est pas? Maybe we'll buy two of them.

My flight home was just as fantastic as my flight over. Again, I was up in business class, getting the royal treatment the whole way. (It seems like maybe the flight attendants give special attention to the captain's wife when she's on board--and were they ever nice to me!) This time, when they offered all of us lucky folks up front a flute of champagne while we were still on the ground, I said, "Sure, why not?!" As I sipped my champagne, I gazed out the window at the amazing scenery--which was spectacular even when viewed from the runway at the airport--and was overcome with a feeling of sadness that our little mini-second honeymoon in Nice was coming to an end. But soon after take-off, fortunately, I was able to forget my tristesse and drown my sorrows in business class cuisine! For starters, the appetizer was a salmon and asparagus creation, and that was followed by a green salad. For my main course, I chose chicken with baked pumpkin (that was something new for me, and it was scrumptious). To top it all off, I had a chocolate tart, and when the flight attendant asked if I'd like to add some whipped cream and chocolate sauce to a dessert that was probably already about 600 calories, I again said, "Sure, why not?!"

After dinner, I reclined my seat and snuggled in for the duration, with two pillows this time (the seat beside me was empty, so I nabbed an extra one), and turned on my little T.V. to watch a lightweight romantic comedy called Monte Carlo. The main reason I wanted to watch it, of course, was because it was shot on location, and I wanted to be able to see things I've seen now with my own eyes and say "I've been there!" I can't tell you how many times my husband has said those words when we've watched films set in Europe! I dozed through most of this movie on the first run-through. But after about two hours of sleeping off and on, I was up for the rest of the flight, and watched not only Monte Carlo, but also Mr. Popper's Penguins (a Jim Carrey movie that won't win any Academy Awards, but was cute and amusing). In Monte Carlo, the three main characters stay at the Hotel de Paris, pictured here. And I saw this!

The flight home was about nine hours long--two hours longer than the flight over, because we were flying into a headwind--and after watching the two movies, I spent the rest of the time mostly reading. At one point, a flight attendant came around offering warmed chocolate-chocolate chip cookies, and I said, "I don't mind if I do!" About an hour and a half before landing, another light meal was served. This time, I had a cold Salade Nicoise, which was composed of shrimp, a hardboiled egg, thinly sliced potatoes, green beans, olives, and tomatoes, with a chocolate truffle candy for dessert...and then, as if the piece of candy wasn't enough, I accepted the offer of another warmed chocolate-chocolate chip cookie. I could really get used to eating like this! But now I have to go on a diet.

Anyway, I don't mean to go on and on, but this trip was such a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. My joie de vivre is through the roof! I'm not finished talking about it yet...by the end of the week, I may have you all bored to tears. But before I lose you, take a look at these pictures from our Sunday in Monaco.

Dimanche en Monaco

Yesterday, after going to 9:00 a.m. Mass at a church called Notre Dame (which is within spitting distance of our hotel in Nice), I had some cafe au lait and my husband had some chocolat chaud--and I must admit, sheepishly, that we got these at a nearby McDonald's--and then went back to our room and finished the half of a baguette that was left over from our little late night snack on the balcony last night. Afterwards, we walked over to the train station and took a 25-minute ride, along the magnificent Cote d'Azur...to MONACO! 

My husband has been an airline pilot for almost 24 years and has been flying internationally for 15; he has been to many European cities, and has probably been to Nice already about a dozen times. But when he was there the other times, he never went to Monaco. So even though my guy is a longtime world traveler and this is my first trip overseas, this is one place that we got to experience together for the very first time. When we strolled around Monte Carlo, it was as new and awe-inspiring to him as it was to me. I have always been fascinated by Grace Kelly/Princess Grace and have read a lot about her, so I was thrilled to be able to visit the little principality that she called home. And it was like something out of a storybook--too beautiful to be real--so it didn't disappoint. It was a very special day.

I can't possibly do our day in Monaco (and then last night in Nice, when we sat down by the beach--on the French Riviera!--sipping cold cans of Heineken and talking) justice in the time I have this morning. We need to get down to the lobby in a bit and meet up with the rest of my husband's crew. But when I get back home and have more time, I'll do another post or two about the trip and show you lots of pictures.

Let me just say this, though: Monte Carlo is the most beautiful and exotic city. It's like something out of a dream, this beautiful city built up high on hills overlooking the Mediterranen. It's an awesome place to visit, but I think you have to be incredibly rich to live there. My husband and I saw yachts parked in the marina that were so enormous, they looked like they needed their own zip codes. We had drinks in a cafe in the square by the Monte Carlo Casino and the Hotel de Paris (two of the most ornate and incredible buildings I've ever seen!), and for one beer and one cafe au lait, we had to pay 19e before the tip. That made the prices we were paying for things in Nice seem like nothing! But I'm sure most of the beautiful people who typically frequent that cafe can afford it. I saw more women wearing furs in that square than I've ever seen in one place in my life.

Everything about yesterday--and the day before, too--has been idyllic. This trip came up all of a sudden, when another pilot wanted to swap trips with my husband. We didn't even have a chance to make any plans ahead of time, and yet we did so much and everything has been so wonderful. Even the weather has been amazing. It's December, and Nice and Monte Carlo have their Christmas markets all set up; but the sun has been shining and it's been warm enough over here to go about in a sweater or light coat (and my husband even spent part of the day yesterday in short sleeves, without any jacket at all). I could go on and on...and on. Let me just wrap this up by saying that this has been the most fantastic trip, and our dimanche en Monaco was a Sunday I'll never forget.

Les Touristes

Les touristes aiment marcher. Ils admirent tout ce qu'ils voient. Ils prennet beaucoup de photographies.

Okay, I was just showing off there, acting like I'm Miss Fluent and walking around Nice throwing out French words left and right. Just the opposite is true. I've been so shy about using even the simplest French mots that when someone says bonjour to me, I come back with a lame American "hi." I've been saying "thank you" when I want to say merci. My plan was to have all this fun trying to parle francaise--at the very least to use some basic French phrases--and I keep totally losing my nerve. My husband has been Monsieur francaise compared to me. So when we touristes go out and about again today, I'm determined to get over my shyness.

While I haven't been speaking the language, those French sentences above are true, at least when it comes to my husband and me: tourists like to walk; they admire all that they see; and they take many pictures. We spent about six hours walking all around Nice yesterday, and it was magnifique! We went all over the city and saw so many amazing things: beautiful churches, "old town," hundreds of quaint shops and restaurants (where people were sitting outside at little tables, dining al fresco in the unseasonably warm December temperatures), brasseries, boulangeries, boucheries (bistros, bakeries, butcher shops), cafes. We even saw an Irish pub, if you can believe it. Not to mention Subway and McDonald's. Don't worry, though; we did not get Big Macs for lunch. We stopped at a cafe and had drinks (cafe au lait for me, une biere for him). We shopped for beautiful scented soaps from Provence. We went over to the boardwalk by the Riviera. After hours of sightseeing, we had a nice dinner, sort of al fresco (tables were set up outside the restaurant, but there was a plastic enclosure around them to keep out the nighttime cold); we both enjoyed our poulet et frites (chicken and French fries), and then we headed back to our hotel with a bag of goodies we'd bought at a Monoprix grocery store. We sat out on our balcony, with Nice lit up all around us, and shared a bottle of wine, a baguette of French bread, and some fromage, jambon, and chocolats (cheese, ham, and I don't think I need to translate that last one, which is, of course, one of the most essential food items on earth). It was an absolutely perfect day.

Here are some pictures from Day One in Nice. Note that at the boucheries here, the bacon they sell doesn't look anything like the kind we see in our American grocery stores. (Yikes!) Also, I was amused by the lady hanging her wet clothes out to dry, with people walking along the narrow cobblestone street right underneath her window! And the interior of the Catholic church we visited yesterday was so beautiful, it actually made me cry. It was dusky when I took the pictures of the Cote d'Azur, but hopefully I'll be able to get better ones today...in Monaco!