Thursday, August 17, 2017

France BookTours -- That Spring in Paris

That Spring in Paris - banner
I can't imagine running to Paris for an emergency instead of for sheer pleasure, but that's what happens in That Spring in Paris by Ciji Ware.
The story is told through the eyes of Juliet, a graphic artist working for her brother's video game business so that she can help preserve the money her father invested in it, and Patrick, who recently left the military to heal from his PTSD even though his father, a lifetime military man, doesn't approve of that decision.
That Spring in ParisJuliet races to Paris after her best friend is injured during the November 2015 terrorist attacks. She physically runs into Patrick at the door to the hospital. Patrick is there to visit someone injured in the attack, too.
The two begin to build a relationship and to untangle the complications they live with because of family demands. The book changes locations between Paris and San Francisco mostly.
When I previewed this novel a few weeks ago, some people living in France thought it might be too soon to write about the terrorist attacks. I think the entire subject is handled delicately, and it doesn't exploit the devastation at all. The characters are struck with fear and PTSD every time another attack or scare arises and must heal again.
Although the story is set against the backdrop of the terrorist attacks, the real plot focuses on the love story of two people who have given in to the will of their families rather than focusing on what they want in life. They give each other the strength to move forward to reach their own goals.
Here's a quote from the book at 18% on Kindle:
He returned his gaze to the plate glass window just as the Eiffel Tower was suddenly illuminated with blinding brightness in shades of blue, white, and red.
"Oh, look!" Juliet exclaimed, swiveling in her seat on the sofa. "How beautiful! They've turned the lights back on in the colors of the French flag! Isn't that a good sign?"
The enormous structure's colorful outline was reflected in the water below it.
"It'll never look the same to me."
"No... not to you, it probably won't," she agreed. "Just like the space where the Twin towers once stood in Manhattan has never looked the same to New Yorkers...."
I realized after the attacks that the Eiffel Tower sat unlit, but I hadn't ever imagined how oppressive that might feel, to walk through the city at night without the twinkling lights, so when the lights came back on, it felt like a return to hope.
Even though the event that set the travel to Paris in motion was negative, Juliet found herself falling in love with Paris, as most everyone does. I enjoyed the descriptions of her discoveries in the richness of life.
I recommend this novel as a smart read with romance and deep dives into family issues along with the complications of war and violence.

Ciji Ware on Tour August 15-28 with

That Spring in Paris

(women’s fiction / romance) Release date: May 25, 2017 at Lion’s Paw Publishing ISBN: 978-0988940871 ebook: 978-0988940864 468 pages Website Goodreads


Two Americans literally collide at the entrance to a Paris hospital, each desperately searching for friends felled in the same unspeakable tragedy. Patrick Finley Deschanel, an expatriate former U.S. Air Force pilot, quit the military after a career flying helicopter rescue missions in the Middle East. Now resident on a classic barge moored on the Seine, Finn is a man with both physical battle scars and psychic wounds that overshadow his day-to-day encounters at every turn. Juliet Thayer is a fledgling landscape painter who seeks escape from a tyrannical older brother and her job at his violent video war games company in San Francisco. Her emergency trip to Paris also raises doubts as to her impending engagement to a colleague where she serves as packaging design director and “Chief Branding Officer” of GatherGames, a highly speculative enterprise in which her parents are heavily invested. As Finn and Juliet form a tenuous attachment in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks that traumatized the French capital November 13, 2015, they wonder if the “City of Light” can provide a path out of the darkness for two emotional exiles who fear–along with the world at large—that their universe has descended into a permanent state of chaos and that the renewal of spring might never come. New York Times bestselling novelist and Emmy-award winning news producer Ciji Ware displays her formidable skill at weaving fact and fiction–delivering a gripping story about the discovery of love and regained serenity in the wake of horrifying events.


That Spring in Paris - Ciji Ware Ciji Ware, a graduate of Harvard University in History, is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of historical and contemporary fiction, and two works of nonfiction. An Emmy-award winning former radio and TV broadcaster for 23 years in Los Angeles, her numerous writing accolades include a Dorothy Parker Award of excellence, and being short-listed for the Willa [Cather] Literary Award. Her family circle includes a husband of many decades, a grown son and daughter-in-law, and now two grandsons under four, along with a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Cholly Knickerbocker. Ware lives in a cottage by the sea on San Francisco Bay. Visit her website Follow her on Facebook and Twitter Buy the book: Amazon | B&N Nook | iBook | Kobo



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Visit each blogger on the tour: tweeting about the giveaway everyday of the Tour will give you 5 extra entries each time! [just follow the directions on the entry-form]
Global giveaway open to all 2 winners




Monday, August 14, 2017

Dreaming of France -- Scenery During a Morning Run

Ooops. Sorry I'm running late. I'm on vacation in Florida and totally forgot about posting Dreaming of France today.

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

One thing that I continue, no matter where in the world I am, is running. So here are a couple of shots that I took on my first run in France this spring. 

In Columbus where I live, the scenery doesn't change very much. It's pretty flat and I pass other runners and walkers with their dogs, but in the village Mireval, not far from Montpelier, I had a view of a ridge of mountains. Not a common sight for me. 


And the mountains got higher as I got closer. Plus look at that old stone wall. I wonder who built it and how long ago. 

In the distance was a village, and the spire of the local church stood above everything else.

And some of the houses had lovely roses in bloom. 
Thanks for joining me as I dream of France. On Thursday I have a book review going up and a chance to win a copy of That Spring in Paris by Ciji Ware. I hope you'll come back. 

Friday, August 11, 2017

My Relaxing Day in Florida

It's 4 o'clock and I haven't showered yet today because I have spent much of the day floating in my parents' pool. 
My day began around 7 with a run through fog, the air heavy with heat and humidity. After spending the entire day driving to Florida yesterday, it was a relief to be able to move. I passed an escaped dog and the golf cart with owners in pursuit. 

I had to do some class work on my computer but had promised Grace I would run with her so didn't take a shower. Grace has been inching toward running with a couch to 5k app. By the time she got up, it was pretty steamy out.
Eureka! I had a genius idea. Let's do the walking and running in the swimming pool. 
So Mom, Grace and I did our 30 minutes of walking and running in the pool. 

Then we all floated on rafts and chatted. We got out for bathroom breaks and drinks. Grace gave in and went to shower, but I returned to the pool for more floating, watching clouds build up, white ibis fly over, and Sandhills cranes land in the yard nearby. From across the lake, I hear a train roll past with its horn echoing. 
A jungle-sounding insect makes repetitive clicks from the nearby lake and cicadas hum in the background. 
Mom and Grace tried sitting in lounge chairs to chat with me, but they got too hot. Not me. I was in the pool. 
Now I can hear a distant rumble of thunder so I suppose I'll have to abandon the pool, but I'm pretty sure I left my worries in the deep end. 

Sunday, August 06, 2017

Dreaming of France -- That Spring in Paris

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

I'm reading another book set in France, and, of course, I always want to share with readers who are Dreaming of France like I am.
That Spring in Paris by Ciji Ware takes place just within the past few years in Paris as Juliet rushes
from San Francisco to Paris after her best friend is injured in the Paris bombings in November of 2015. As she rushes into the hospital, she literally runs into Patrick, a former U.S. Air Force pilot, who is at the hospital to visit someone else mortally wounded in the attacks. The two form a supportive relationship and begin to battle their own demons connected to terrorism. Juliet works for a video game company that creates graphic war games and allows encrypted messaging, much like what the terrorists used to communicate with each other. And Patrick flew planes and then drones during the war, so he is dealing with PTSD.
It's definitely a different look at Paris right after it has been swept by bombs and gunfire, but the strength and beauty of the city shine through, as the two watch to see when the Eiffel Tower will sparkle again, as it does eventually.
I'll be reviewing this book for FranceBookTours on August 17 and there will be a giveaway too, so make sure you check back to have an opportunity to win it.

Hey, I was in Paris during the spring, too. I'd better share a picture from my experience.

Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. Please leave your link below and visit each other's blogs to share your love for France.
I promise to blog more this week. My daughter and I are taking a mother-daughter trip to Florida. Can't wait.

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Dreaming of France -- Uncorked

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
In the midst of my moving preparation, I found the time to read a relatively short memoir about a Canadian man who moved to Saint Paul de Vence to work in IT. The book is called Uncorked: My Year in Provence Studying Pétanque , Discovering Chagall, Drinking Pastis, and Mangling French.  He tells the story of how he fell in love with game of  pétanque and convinced a local man to teach him to play in the dark of night. Eventually, the man embraced him as a partner, and he became one of the locals playing pétanque by the cafe and ignoring tourists.
This was an entertaining book because it addressed a topic that is oftentimes touched upon in books but rarely focused on. Of course, the game wasn't the entire point. The game helped him integrate into the village. And since we are planning to move to France, we always wonder how we'll worm our way into local life. Earl pictures himself sitting on a bench watching pétanque and eventually being allowed to play with the other old men in the village. I think I'd better get him a coach.
Here's the beginning of Chapter 1:
The French word bisou  is used to describe the charming manner in which the French greet one another with a ceremonial kiss on both cheeks. This act should not be mistaken for a sign of real affection or even friendship but rather as a refreshingly warm way of saying hello or goodbye.
As tourists in France, we foreigners have all been witness to these tiny gifts, but rarely do we gain admittance into the tightknit club of the 60 million or so people who exchange them.... Receiving and delivering countless bisous during my year in the magical Cote d'Azur village of Saint-Paul de Vence made me feel a sense of "limited belonging," but when my neighbor, friend, and, most importantly, pétanque coach, Hubert bid me farewell by initiating a bisou, after my last match and last pastis as a local, it gave me pause to reflect on how close I had become to this part of the world, its people, its culture, and the game I fell in love with the minute I first laid eyes on it: pétanque!

 I loaned the book to Earl on Kindle so he can read it too. Hope it doesn't make him fear playing pétanque in France. It's mean to encourage him.
How about you? Have you ever played pétanque or boules as it is called in other parts of France? What about receiving or giving a bisou? Have you experienced that? 
I'd love it if you shared your experience. 
Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. Please leave your link below and visit each other's blogs to share your love for France.

Stress Continues

So, we're a week into selling the house, and I realized this morning, as I was standing in the shower, that I needed to soften my face. Relax! I chided myself.
I have to actually focus on it to stop that scrunched up feeling in the middle around my eyes, nose and mouth.
We had to vacate the house at 9 this morning for a showing, and there is another open house this afternoon. We practically can't live in our house.
Tybs has no problem relaxing in our staged house. White pillows, black cat -- perfect
Our real estate agent had talked up the hot market. She said we would probably be in contract before the first open house last Sunday. We aren't; thus, the scrunched up worry face. What's wrong with our house? Is our price too high? Can we pay off all our bills and buy a house in France at a lower price?
All of these questions constantly swirl around my brain, preventing me from enjoying the sun-kissed day and heavenly breeze.
I had a brief run Saturday morning before I had to teach, and I know that I need more of that - running time.
Meanwhile, Earl and I carried our laptops to Panera this morning and settled in for breakfast and some screen time.
We had talked about driving to my brother's house about 90 minutes away and staying through the open house. I know I would have enjoyed seeing him and my sister-in-law, but the thought of driving back home in the evening, more exhausted than ever, made us cancel that plan.
In addition to the carefully staged setting at home, we have some more turmoil coming our way. Tucker is moving out of his apartment to a new one, but he has to have his things out on Monday and can't move in until Tuesday. He's going to use our garage as the receptacle overnight for all of his belongings. He may or may not sleep at our house that one night of homelessness.
But Spencer, who has been living with Tucker for the past month, will be moving back home. I'm sure it's not what he wants, but until he has a steady job and a bit of money saved up, he'll have a place to sleep and plenty of food. I urged him to take his time and find a job he likes rather than jumping from sales job to sales job that he doesn't like.
He's delivering food for Panera where he will get immediate tips for his everyday needs while he continues to look for a job with a good salary and benefits.
Grace continues her job search. She's receiving unemployment, so she can take her time, as well.
It seems like we have very few stable supports in our family right now.
Yesterday while I was teaching, Tucker texted to ask where everyone was. He had dropped by the house to do laundry. Then when Earl got home after the morning showing, he said Spencer had shown up. I ordered pizza and picked it up on the way home, along with texting Grace that she should come over for pizza. She wanted to do laundry too.
Me taking a selfie with the pizzas, reminding the kids I was alone and hungry. 
When I got home, everyone but Earl had left. I texted the kids and soon they each pulled up and joined me on the patio for pizza and a rare family lunch as the breeze ruffled the umbrella over the table and the cats rubbed against the chair legs, not wanting pizza, but just some attention.
And for a moment, I looked up and remembered how lucky I am.
It's a little pale, but we did see a rainbow last week, which surely is a sign. 

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Injury Prone

Most readers know that we have been prepping the house to put it on the market, and we finally got it ready last weekend. We've had several showings and one offer that we didn't accept. A couple of other offers are in the pipeline, so we are trying to be zen about it.
But as I worked to ready the house, I found myself becoming accident prone.
Some bruises make sense as I hauled furniture out of the basement, into a truck and then into a storage unit, or someone else's house.
Earl's nephew agreed to take the upright piano that we have had since Grace was 1. Earl's mother had originally purchased the piano and it was covered in black lacquer. She stripped the wood and finished it so that the wood grain shone through.
The piano movers. Tucker is kneeling with his back to the camera. Earl and his nephew are standing behind the piano, and Earl's brother is using a lever to get the piano on a dolly. 

We did love it, but no one played it anymore, probably since we moved to this house, about 10 years ago. I used to play the piano quite frequently, but in the move, I lost all of my favorite piano books and couldn't get motivated to start over again with learning various pieces.
As you can see, we had more help moving the piano, so I didn't hurt myself.
But many times as we are carrying furniture out, it's only me and Earl or me and Spencer. Spencer has admitted that I'm a pretty good mover for a girl -- I didn't take that as an insult, because I know that my physical strength is definitely limited, yet I'm willing to try to move heavy things, like this desk that needed to be out of the house at the last minute before pictures were taken.

Tybs is not very accepting of all the changes

Of course, I first had to clear everything off the desk. And Tybs at that moment decided that the desk was his favorite place in the world and we couldn't possibly move it out.
So many times I hit my shins as I'm walking forward carrying a piece of furniture, or the furniture hits me, leaving bruises, as I walk backward with it. I also have big bruises on my forearms, I suppose from lifting and holding items.
Then two weeks ago, I had that fall on my back porch as I tripped after walking five miles. The bruise from that fall has faded to a pale green that stretches from my knee toward my ankle. I stopped running after that fall, giving my knee time to heal.
But last week, I stepped on a sliver of glass that came from a broken picture frame. I'm awful at getting splinters taken out of my feet. I decided to avoid walking on it that night and I tried to tackle it the next morning. I soaked my foot in hot water to loosen it up. I used a credit card to try to scrape it out. Then I used tweezers but couldn't get a hold on it. Finally, I decided that I would let my body absorb it or spit it out. I only felt occasional twinges when I stepped down on a certain part of my foot.
Obviously, I couldn't run with a splinter of glass in my foot.
On Sunday, before the open house, we decided to clean the side windows again because it had been raining. The windows are old and have a series of storm windows and screens. Earl was outside on a ladder and I was moving the storm windows up and down. One of the windows didn't want to go all the way up, so I was reaching under it to get to the storm window, when the window suddenly released, like a guillotine, streaking toward the closed position, and it landed on the heel of my thumb as I tried to escape it.
The impact formed a purple/red ridge along the heel of my thumb as I sprang away in pain. The swelling has subsided, but it is still sensitive to the touch and the dark bruise is slowly spreading.
I wonder if the stress of preparing the house to move has made me more prone to injuries. Maybe I'm being more careless, focused on the end result rather than taking my time.
Now that the house is on the market, I'll use this lull to heal, letting my bruises fade. Once we have a contract and a determined move out date, I'm sure I'll be back to moving mode and receiving new bruises as I race to get rid of our belongings that won't be coming along on our trip to France.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Dreaming of France -- Cats in France

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

We are big cat lovers at our house, so even when we are traveling, we are on the lookout for cute cats. There was no shortage of them in France.
This stocky gray fellow on the wall was in Mireval, not too far from Montpelier, where we stayed as we explored part of Languedoc-Roussillon.

One day I explored in Mireval and found another bakery. I also found this black and white cat near the church.

This guy was giving himself a bath with a nice view of red roof tiles.

And this chunky cat safely peered out over the world from the safety of his balcony. 

Here's a cafe cat from Quillan, which is where we stayed the second half of our trip. 

This cat was laying in a courtyard in Caunes-Minervois, a place where I now know that I should have eaten at the hotel. 

And here's another cat in Caunes-Minervois, pretending he's in the jungle and that we can't see him. 
I'm sure I have more France cat pictures, but I'll save them for another day now that I'm home with  my own cats. 
Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. Please leave your link below and visit each other's blogs to share your love for France.

France BookTours -- That Spring in Paris

I can't imagine running to Paris for an emergency instead of for sheer pleasure, but that's what happens in That Spring in Paris b...