Samantha Verant's Blog, page 8
March 9, 2015
Melting Pot Monday: Making Macarons
Not only is March 20th the first day of Spring...it's also Macaron Day in France. Yay! To prepare for this joyous occasion, I've decided to try my hand at macaron making. I'm also testing the recipe because I have my first author event on April 15th at the Barnes & Noble on Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica at 7:00. I hope you will join me! If my recipe works out, I'll be bringing homemade macarons and a little piece of Paris! Mark your calendars! Tell your friends! Tell your mother! Tell your grandmother!
Since I live in Toulouse, I've decided to make violet and vanilla bean flavored macarons. (Toulouse is called the pink city because of the brick building as well as the 'city of violets,' the Toulouse violet characterized by its dark purple-blue hue).
Violet products are the rage in Toulouse – soaps, perfumes, candies, and everything in between,like today's main ingredient: Liqueur Violette.
Here we go! Go grab your wooden spoons!
Today, I've made the meringue/buttercream based filling for the macarons. For the little cakes, I have to let my egg whites stand at room temperature for 24-hours-- so that recipe is coming demain.
Ingredients:1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 sticks butter, unsalted at room temperature
2 egg whites
2 tablespoons violet liqueur (alts: whatever flavored liqueur suits your fancy)
1 Vanilla Bean – split and seeded
* Dash of Vanilla Extract- optional
* Red and blue food coloring- optional
One Vanilla Bean- Split and SeededTHE HOW TO:
Place a heatproof bowl over a simmering pot of water. Add the sugar and the egg whites to the bowl and whisk constantly until the mixture feels warm to the touch, the sugar is dissolved, and the mixtures looks fluffy and creamy. (About four minutes)
When ready, pour the mixture into a bowl and beat on medium. In about four minutes, you'll have a thick and shiny meringue!
Change the whisk beaters to paddle beaters and add the softened butter one tablespoon or two at a time. Beat until the mixture is thick and smooth – around eight minutes.
Separate the buttercream into two bowls. To one, add the vanilla bean seeds, folding it into the mixture. If you want more vanilla taste, add a dash of vanilla extract.
Fold in two tablespoons of violet liqueur into the other bowl. Add food coloring if you want more of a violet tone.
(This really is light violet-- but not picturing well!)
The fillings will keep for a week in the frigo, or one month in the ice box. The cool thing? You can make all kinds of fillings-- using fresh or frozen fruit, jams, chocolates...the list is endless.
How 'bout them the macarons?
Check back in with me tomorrow, when I'll be making the little cakes and (possibly) showcasing my macarons! If everything works out, I, for one, will be experimenting with macaron mania! On verra!
à demain
(wish me luck)
UPDATE: click here for part deux
February 19, 2015
Early on a Cold St Valentine's Day (A TRUE LOVE STORY) by P.D. Murphy
At the Dawning of the Day
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose.
~ Robert Frost, from The Rose Family (1928)
A True Love Guest Post by Paul Murphy
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said, here is Paul's story:
Early on a cold St. Valentine’s Day last weekend, I dug a hole in our small garden and planted a bare root cutting of a rose for her, Robert Frost’s words mixing with the earth. It was a pink rose variety called New Dawn. We first met a lifetime ago in the last century and fell in love. We fled to Spain and made a home by the sea. It was good, too good to last. I remember the end, a freeze-frame memory of an ordinary scene. We are lying side by side in bed in our flat in Santander on Calle Santa Lucia, next to La Bodeguca where we would go for tortilla and rough red wine. She looks at me and informs me that I will not, after all, be the father of her babies. Her name was Katherine; Kay for short.
Time and life moved on. I met another, late in life, and we were married. She had a young daughter already who in time became the apple of my eye. A favourite poet once wrote of his new-born baby: “She was born in the autumn and was a late fall in my life, and lay purple and dented like a little bruised plum.” Laurie Lee was the poet and Daniella was my plum. In time though, “love grows old, waxes cold/ and fades away like the morning dew.”
I grieved for the failed marriage, lost love and my lost youth and found solace in writing. I had become a writer. I felt a need to go on a journey of discovery. I went in search of Laurie Lee: he had once written about a rite of passage walk across Spain on the brink of civil war in a book called As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning - it became a classic. I re-traced his footsteps, and I wrote a book about Laurie Lee, my journey, my life and the essence of forgiveness.
In the book, I wrote about leaving my married home for the last time, another indelible freeze-frame memory.
I walked down the stairs for the last time. Pausing, I slowly scanned the montage of photographs that lined the stairway and told the story of my life to date. As I descended they followed me, framed images of my life hanging on the wall, hanging in the air, chronicling the passage of time and the story of a family: my family. Silent timeless observers of modern lives, lives that had been lived at pace, in the moment, for the moment, hurrying up and down the stairs, like high-speed trains rushing past glimpses of green countryside and deserted platforms. My life was all there in those photographs: a young boy learning about failure; a man finally making that commitment; my two girls collecting memories; my grandfather breaking bread with the leader of a fragmented nation. A freckled face squinting at the sun, smart blazer hanging down over frayed cuffs, scuffed shoes, cap perched unsteadily and tie askew, stretching out, in vain, for the ripe apple from the tree. Bride and groom under the oak tree, 5 August 1994. Daniella’s bridesmaid’s dress rustling in the cool summer breeze as she kicked her legs high on the swing, underneath the branches. A long summer day in west Wales, drawing to a close, Elizabeth and Daniella on the beach, collecting shells. Grandad George, who grew up in Cardiff in the 1900s – Welsh Chicago they called it then, a hard place to start out. He has a kind comfortable face. He is drawing on a Player’s Navy Cut Number 6, untipped, and inhaling deeply and satisfyingly. He is sitting in a bar, fob watch dangling from his waistcoat, next to Pandit Nehru. Where and when and why is lost in the mists of time.
Pandit Nehru had been the Prime Minister of India at the time of Partition; the bloody fragmentation of one nation into two. Partition happens to families too. After the door had clicked closed behind me for the last time, Dani sat on the stairs with her knees drawn up tight to her chin. She loved the picture of her on the swing with her mum and her new dad at the nice hotel. She thought of the first time I had come to see her mother at the house.
“Give Paul a tour of the house, Daniella,” her mum said casually, as if it had not been practiced many times over. She summoned up all of her six years, three months and 21 days and still I towered over her. She knew I was special; Mum hadn’t said as much, but she knew.
“Come on then,” she said and pulled me up the steep stairs past the freshly-painted blank white wall.
“This is my room.” She threw open the door to reveal a pinkish room that she shared with an assortment of animals and dolls who all knew their place.
“This is Mummy’s room,” she continued, indicating a firmly shut door. “It’s a mess and I mustn’t show it to you.”
Back then something had told her that with me around her mum would not be quite so sad. And now I was gone, Dani thought that her mum, once again, would not be quite so sad.
As I left my home for the last time, I left behind the ordered chronological timelines of my family life and instead took with me, in an old box under my arm, a random collection of old sepia-tinted photos, curling at the edges, fragments of my life as jumbled and faded in the box as they were in my head. I removed my gold wedding ring for the last time. Over the past 18 years I had played with it, dropped it and lost it so many times. Now I consigned it to a drawer. Unthinkingly I rub the grooved surface worn into the fabric of my left ring finger, a pale circle of nothing.
The book, As I Walked Out Through Spain in Search of Laurie Lee, was published last year. With strange syncronicity, Kay read it and got back in touch. We are together again now. She denies ever saying that line in bed back then. She is looking forward to her summer rose.
Oh, Daniella gets along just fine with Kay. She’s a grown up Natural Woman and singer song-writer
now...
The Rose Family
The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But now the theory goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose - But were always a rose.
~ Robert Frost (1928)
Please join on us FACEBOOK to discuss this story... and remember sharing is caring. Please feel free to share this post!
CONNECT WITH PAUL
Blog:www.thelittlesummerofthequince.wordpress.com
Website: www.paulmurphyassociates.co.uk
Twitter: @hotspurman
PURCHASE PAUL'S BOOK
As I Walked Out Through Spain in Search of Laurie Lee:
Amazon U.S. Amazon.co.uk
http://tinyurl.com/
~~~~~~~
Book News:
Don't forget to enter my GIVEAWAY (click on the link/scroll down to enter)! Five copies of my memoir are up for grabs! Also, the ebook of Seven Letters from Paris is priced at $2.99 on Amazon US, Canada, and UK (Kindle) and B&N (Nook) until March 3rd! Grab a copy today!
xox and bisous from Toulouse
Samantha
For other essays like this, see the below 'related posts' and enjoy...
Remembering a Past Love, Finding Myself
A True Love Guest Post by Anonymous
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said, here is today's story:
~~~~ One month after I turned 40, my daughter was looking through an old box of photos and came across an envelope that contained pictures of a man I knew almost 20 years prior. At the same time I was undergoing multiple mammograms/sonograms and ultimately a core needle biopsy.I am not one to be negative, I rarely cry, but in the quiet hours of the night, when I was awaiting the tests to be taken, and the results to return, I couldn't help my mind from wondering about the many If’s in my life. So it comes as no surprise that my biggest “IF” was the man in those photos that my daughter found at that exact moment in my life.
I met him in 8th grade. He came to the states with his family for a year. When he returned to Australia we became pen pals for a bit. I remember he sent me a Christmas gift with a small clip on koala. I loved it, and koalas are still my favorite animal. We lost touch, and then about 5 years later, out of the blue he called me. He got my work number from my mother, and I can remember that first conversation like it was yesterday. We started writing to each other and catching up. He had moved to Hawaii, and he wanted to come and see me. I really, really liked him. I couldn’t say love, because at 20 I didn’t know what it was. He wanted to fly 4,900 miles to see me. I could not understand why. I never thought that I had anything to offer him. To me, at 20, he was bigger than life, and so well traveled. I had never even been on an airplane before. I didn't know how could he be interested in me. I had just started dating someone, so I used him as the excuse as to why he couldn’t come and see me.
I have never had a man offer me the world the way that "Mr. Australia" did. To be honest, at the time it scared me because I think that I knew I could have really fallen for him. A 4,900 mile distance was such an easy thing to hide behind.
I married the man who I was dating at the time. He is a good man, and a really good father to our daughters, but along the journey of our relationship, I lost myself. Every interest I had changed into my husband’s interests. I cared enough to bend to his, from music to sports, but only realized after finding those photos that my husband never once bent for me. The realization was a sad one, even though I probably always saw the truth. Who wants to admit it? I don’t know if turning 40, or going through biopsies when cancer runs in your family, snapped me out of the fog, but I decided I needed to get myself back.
The results of my biopsy came back good, but the Australian “if” would not go away. At that time, when I realized what an impact he made on my life, I felt the need to reach out to him. I wanted to apologize to him, but mostly I wanted to thank him. He probably would think I was crazy, but I set out into the WWW. Little did I know that his name is as common as John Smith is in America. Another issue was his location. I knew him to live in 3 different places by the time he was 20… he could be anywhere in the world.
Almost 2 years after finding the photos, 2 letters to Australia, one email to Hawaii, I am certain that we are not meant to reconnect.
I don’t know how much Mr. Australia cared for me when he was 21, or even if he remembers my name 20 years later, but I do know what an impression he made on me. I am forever touched by him, and that fleeting moment in 1994 when he made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. I am sorry that it took me forever to understand it.
I may not have found him 20 yrs later, but I found myself again because of him.
I am forever grateful.
~~~~~~
Please join on us FACEBOOK to discuss this story... and remember sharing is caring. Please feel free to share this post!
Book News:
Don't forget to enter my GIVEAWAY (click on the link/scroll down to enter)! Five copies of my memoir are up for grabs! Also, the ebook of Seven Letters from Paris is priced at $2.99 on Amazon US, Canada, and UK (Kindle) and B&N (Nook) until March 3rd! Grab a copy today!
xox and bisous from Toulouse
Samantha
See you tomorrow with another TRUE LOVE STORY!
For other essays like this, see the below 'related posts' and enjoy...
February 18, 2015
Cruising Straight Into Love...
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This photo is a bit retro-- BUT I love the feeling of it for this essay!
A True Love Guest Post by the very sweet and funny Gwen
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said...take it away, Gwen:
~~~~
Ok, here goes.
At the ripe old age of 25 I had my fair share of blind dates, pairing up etc. from my well-meaning friends and family. I was living the good life in Vancouver and enjoying my job, colleagues and beautiful surroundings.
Life was perfect, or so I thought.
One day I received a phone call from a daughter of one of the men in my office. I had seen her a few times when she had come into the office to see her father, whom I worked for as an administrative assistant at a large real estate development company downtown. I wouldn’t say I knew her, just the usually 'Hi' sort of thing.
Anyway, I had known from speaking with her father that she was working for a cruise ship company, one of the many lines that came to run the Vancouver to Alaska routes. This was 1988 and the cruise ship industry on the west coast was really taking off. I had never really had a conversation with the girl and we made some small talk. Then she hit me with it – would I like to go with her on a 7 day cruise in the Caribbean. Employees, after working for so long were eligible for a free cruise if the ship wasn’t full and she had made arrangements to go with her friend, who pulled out at the last minute. It was kinda weird as I didn’t know her from a hole in the ground and I wasn’t really thinking of taking her up on the offer, but then I phoned my Mom and told her. She thought if I didn’t take it I would be crazy as offers like this don’t come around in life.
My Mom was a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason’ and I have always kept this motto and it has never let me down. Needless to say, after speaking with my Mom and checking with my colleagues at work since it was such short notice, we drove from Vancouver to Seattle for the red eye flight, consisting of a couple of plane changes on our way to Miami. We didn’t get a wink of sleep, partly due to excitement and partly due to crappy flights. We had to wait a little while before we were able to board the ship and by that time the jet lag and loss of sleep kicked in, but we were young and foolish as you are at that age and just kept going. We explored the ship from top to bottom, interrupting the crew members swim time in one of the indoor pools.
The first night was ‘singles’ night in the disco (remember this is 1988) at the top of the ship. Without a wink of sleep for over 24 hours and no real eating routine, we had a drink. I was already feeling pretty weird from lack of sleep. We were enjoying ourselves and there were some male crew members there as well, looking pretty dapper in their uniforms I must say. There were two guys who kept looking our way and one of them came over and asked my friend to dance. Feeling a little uncomfortable standing on my own, the other guy came over and I assumed he was going to ask me to dance.
His first words to me were ‘I hope you don’t want to dance.’
I thought this a bit odd as we were in a disco and I thought that’s what you usually do there. It was a few months later that the reason he said this was he had just come back to the ship from being off and had been home in Holland. He had gained some weight and had to borrow a friend’s pair of pants for his uniform and even those were a bit tight and he was worried something would happen. After knowing him for 27 years I now know he’s not a dancer.
We talked for a long time and then the lack of sleep and proper food kicked in and I had to go out on the deck to get some fresh air. He followed me and I said I really wasn’t feeling well and he could just leave me out there for a bit. Being a stubborn Dutchman, he stayed and I ended up ‘chucking my cookies’ over the railing, not realizing until it was too late that it was only to the deck below and not into the ocean. I must have looked as awful as I felt, but he didn’t care and was not put off. Apparently, he was one of the crew members who we had earlier walked in on at the pool and he remembered me.
The rest of the cruise was amazing, both for the beauty of the Caribbean and the wonderful things that happened. I was trying not to get too excited about this new relationship as I was a girl from Vancouver and he was a guy from The Netherlands. Over the duration on-board I received hand written notes (in broken English), flowers etc. to my cabin. He had found out who our cabin boy was and made arrangements with him to deliver the notes so they would be there when I got back to the cabin and the first bouquet of flowers apparently came from the zoo in Granada, where he paid some local to ‘get’.
I kept my guard up, just enjoying his company as I knew I would be leaving the ship in a few days.
The night before we were to disembark back in Fort Lauderdale was very difficult. He had been serenading me with his guitar playing and much conversation when it hit me that I really didn’t want this to end, but telling myself that how could things work out as we lived thousands of kilometers away from each other. We exchanged addresses and talked about contacting each other as you do in these situations not thinking really anything more about it as I had gone through some rough relationships in the not so distant past and didn’t hold up much hope for this one. I left the ship at the beginning of March, 1988.
After returning to my wonderful life in Vancouver with lots of stories and my vacation romance to share with my colleagues, I began to think daily of this Dutchman and dream (as you do) that it would be great to see him again. I wasn’t going to make the first move and never contacted him and I never heard from him either, thinking he had found someone else on another ship.
Months passed and May came around. This was a time in our office that we had our annual Managers meeting where our Managers came from Western Canada to our big meeting. For years, this meeting had been held in our own building on West Georgia Street in Vancouver. For some weird reason, I can’t remember, our President decided this year it would be held in the Vancouver Trade and Convention Centre, which also houses the Vancouver Cruise Ship Facility where the ships dock on their way to and from Alaska. The day came for the meeting and the facility was buzzing with excitement as it was also the first cruise ship departure of the new sailing season. There were hundreds (if not more) of people there and all TV stations reporting on the cruise ship season etc. I had gone downstairs to the main area at lunch to walk around and noticed the ship that was docked was the one I had been on in the Caribbean. My heart went all weird and I walked up to the ‘crew’ desk and asked if the man I met was on the ship.
I’m not sure what the answer was (as I’m sure they aren’t allowed to tell you) but I went and wrote a quick note and put it in an envelope. I took the envelope back to the desk and they said they would make sure Douwe (the man I met) would get it.
I was standing at the elevator to head back up to the meeting and noticed some guys running towards the ship out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, and without even thinking, I yelled his name.
The next few minutes was a bit of a blur and felt like it was all happening in slow motion. He turned and yelled my name and we both ran toward each other and just like in the movies, he picked me up and spun me around. I’ll never forget that moment.
We kissed and chatted quickly as he had to be back on board by a certain time or he would be sent back to Holland. We made arrangements that at a certain time after the meeting I would go up on one of the decks of the cruise ship facility (amazing facility if you haven’t seen it, looks like a ship) and he would be waiting on the top deck of the ship.
Well, we both kept our promise and after pushing my way through the crowds as the ship was about to leave for Alaska I made it to the railing. Yup, there he was waiving frantically, as I was as well. Of course we couldn’t yell loud enough and resorted to hand signals. I kinda understood that he would call me, not knowing from where and when but that was good enough for me. The ship departed with much fanfare, streamers, music and lots of people etc. Just like in the movies.I went back to my life. The ship left Vancouver on a Thursday and on Sunday my phone rang. He was outside a pizza place in Juno Alaska. This eventually became a regular phone booth on Sundays where he would call me and on Thursdays I would meet him in Vancouver. My company was great as they gave me some extra time over lunch (time I made up) to go and spend some time with him.
This became a regular event – Sunday phone call from Alaska and Thursdays in Vancouver until his contract ended in October. He stayed with me in North Vancouver for a little while and we traveled over to Vancouver Island where I had spent 7 years. I wanted him to see and experience it as he loved the outdoors. He couldn’t stay long as he had to head back to The Netherlands for family events already planned.
We spoke via telephone (no email then or texting) and, perhaps I shouldn’t mention this, but I was always so nervous that he might be the one and I was falling in Love with him that I would have to get off the phone for a minute to ‘chuck my cookies’ before continuing the conversation.He flew directly from The Netherlands to Florida for another contract so I wasn’t able to see him in person for a long time. We kept in constant contact and he wrote me many, many letters (which I still have, of course).
Christmas came around and I drove to my parents through a snowstorm (unusual for the lower mainland). My parents lived just over an hour outside Vancouver so I left my basement apartment in North Vancouver for Maple Ridge. I had only arrived to my parents' home for about 10 minutes when the phone rang. It was my friend (her and her husband owned the house where I lived in the basement). She said a nice Dutchman had come to the door with a little box! My heart nearly came out of my mouth thinking Douwe managed to get off the ship, fly to Vancouver and deliver a gift...
But no, it wasn’t him as he was still on contract on the ship in the Caribbean. It was a friend and co-worker who also had a girlfriend in North Vancouver. He had come to spend Christmas with her as he didn’t’ have to go back on the ship over that time. Douwe had given him the gift and asked him to bring it to my house, I had just missed him.
Needless to say, my Mom and I hopped in the car and drove back to North Vancouver. My friend was so excited and couldn’t wait for me to open the gift. There was a letter with it, of course so I read that first, keeping everyone in suspense. I was a little nervous to open the box as it was small and could really only contain two things – earrings or a ring! (he had given me a beautiful gold pendant of the ship we met on for my birthday in June).
The box contained a ring! It’s a beautiful emerald and diamond ring. There were no strings attached, just a ring. I can’t tell you how this made me feel and I really couldn’t believe this was all happening to me.
His plans were to finish his contract on the ship, go back to Holland and get a job. We had briefly discussed a similar scenario as I had dual citizenship with England and the only real way he could stay in Canada was for us to get married, but we never wanted that to be the reason for marriage so I decided I would follow him to Holland once he got settled. He already had an apartment there so it was just a matter of getting a job on land.
He had worked 4-1/2 years on board and felt it was time for a land job. He would phone me and tell me he wanted to live in a house together with a white picket fence etc. All those wonderful things you want to hear. He got himself a very good job and began in August of 1989.
I quit my amazing job with amazing people in Vancouver who gave me a very memorable send off!!!
It was very hard to leave everything I had in Vancouver, but felt deep down it was the thing I was supposed to do. Very, very difficult to leave my parents as I’m sure it was difficult for them to leave theirs 34 years previous when they left England to go to Canada. My Father had left in 1954 to find a job in Canada and get settled before sending for my Mom in 1955. Funny how -- sometimes -- history repeats itself.
I arrived to my new life in Arnhem, Holland in September, 1989. At first I spent my time getting used to the different culture and language, but then found myself working for an American computer company in Nijmegen and meeting lots of new friends.
In October Douwe and I drove to a small town in Germany, where I had grown up when my Father was in the Canadian Army. It was an amazing time as I had never been back to any base I had lived. Memories flooded in and it was a very special time. Armed with only a photograph and address of a gas station & house where we lived as our house on base wasn’t ready for us. We found the same gas station, went inside and with Douwe’s broken German we found the son of the lady (who I called Grandma) in the photograph. He remembered our family and quickly took Douwe and me through to the house at the back. We were taken on a full tour with him explaining and neither of us really understanding all his German. We learned they had done a lot of renovating over the years, but he showed me my bedroom etc. Lots of memories, but when I asked him about the lady in the photograph his eyes filled with tears as apparently I was a couple of months too late. She had recently passed away.
I later found out that Douwe’s plan was to propose to me while on that mini vacation, however his nerves and the emotions of the trip got the best of him.
November 17, 1989: after walking in the woods near the Castle in Rosendaal and nearly being attacked by running wild boar (Douwe was wearing a red jacket and we tried hiding behind a tree when we heard them approaching) he got down on one knee and proposed. Of course I said yes and was bursting to tell someone what had just happened so I stopped a couple of people who were in the area and told them.
After accepting their congratulations, I’m sure they thought I was a crazy Canadian.
August 17, 1990: we married in the small town where we lived – Dodewaard, The Netherlands. In Holland a civil ceremony is the only legal one so we were wed in the Town Hall, which looks almost like a castle with a winding staircase inside. It was a magical ceremony and we loved every minute of it. We were fortunate to have many friends, English family members and my Parents and sister, with her three daughters join us for our special day.
June 24, 1992 was the day we flew to Canada to begin our next adventure. Douwe had permanent resident status and we began applying for jobs while living with my sister in Nova Scotia. A busy summer paid off with a job in Ontario, which began September 28, 1992.
Although we have lived in Ontario and Douwe has worked for the same company since that time, we have moved 5 times and had a wonderful daughter along the way.This year marks our 25th Wedding Anniversary and our plans had been to return to Holland and celebrate with a couple who have been with us the entire journey. As the above proves, life doesn’t always plan out the way you’d thought and due to Douwe’s parents both being ill over the past year and our daughter going into post-secondary school in the fall, money has fallen short. We have decided that Douwe go back by himself to visit with his parents and we will go back to celebrate at another time. Things do happen for a reason and shortly after we had decided this, we received a message from our friends who we were to celebrate with that they are separating.
This latest news comes as a shock and saddens both of us. Our friends have also had an amazing journey. They flew from Amsterdam in 1993 to visit us in our new country. While at the airport they mailed cards to everyone to invite them to a celebration at a restaurant in Arnhem at a later date. You see, they hadn’t told anyone, not even their parents and while they were here in Canada they got married!!!
We have experienced many ups and downs as married couples do over the past 25 years, but our Love has endured and I am looking forward to taking some time for reflection this year – rereading the letters, looking at photographs etc., reliving our journey together and looking forward to the next 25!
Please join on us FACEBOOK to discuss this story... and remember sharing is caring. Please feel free to share this post!
Book News:
Don't forget to enter my GIVEAWAY! Five copies of my memoir are up for grabs! Also, the ebook of Seven Letters from Paris is priced at $2.99 on Amazon US, Canada, and UK (Kindle) and B&N (Nook) until March 3rd! Grab a copy today!
xox and bisous from Toulouse
Samantha
See you tomorrow with another TRUE LOVE STORY!
For other essays like this, see the below 'related posts' and enjoy...
This photo is a bit retro-- BUT I love the feeling of it for this essay!A True Love Guest Post by the very sweet and funny Gwen
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said...take it away, Gwen:
~~~~
Ok, here goes.
At the ripe old age of 25 I had my fair share of blind dates, pairing up etc. from my well-meaning friends and family. I was living the good life in Vancouver and enjoying my job, colleagues and beautiful surroundings.
Life was perfect, or so I thought.
One day I received a phone call from a daughter of one of the men in my office. I had seen her a few times when she had come into the office to see her father, whom I worked for as an administrative assistant at a large real estate development company downtown. I wouldn’t say I knew her, just the usually 'Hi' sort of thing.
Anyway, I had known from speaking with her father that she was working for a cruise ship company, one of the many lines that came to run the Vancouver to Alaska routes. This was 1988 and the cruise ship industry on the west coast was really taking off. I had never really had a conversation with the girl and we made some small talk. Then she hit me with it – would I like to go with her on a 7 day cruise in the Caribbean. Employees, after working for so long were eligible for a free cruise if the ship wasn’t full and she had made arrangements to go with her friend, who pulled out at the last minute. It was kinda weird as I didn’t know her from a hole in the ground and I wasn’t really thinking of taking her up on the offer, but then I phoned my Mom and told her. She thought if I didn’t take it I would be crazy as offers like this don’t come around in life.
My Mom was a firm believer of ‘everything happens for a reason’ and I have always kept this motto and it has never let me down. Needless to say, after speaking with my Mom and checking with my colleagues at work since it was such short notice, we drove from Vancouver to Seattle for the red eye flight, consisting of a couple of plane changes on our way to Miami. We didn’t get a wink of sleep, partly due to excitement and partly due to crappy flights. We had to wait a little while before we were able to board the ship and by that time the jet lag and loss of sleep kicked in, but we were young and foolish as you are at that age and just kept going. We explored the ship from top to bottom, interrupting the crew members swim time in one of the indoor pools.
The first night was ‘singles’ night in the disco (remember this is 1988) at the top of the ship. Without a wink of sleep for over 24 hours and no real eating routine, we had a drink. I was already feeling pretty weird from lack of sleep. We were enjoying ourselves and there were some male crew members there as well, looking pretty dapper in their uniforms I must say. There were two guys who kept looking our way and one of them came over and asked my friend to dance. Feeling a little uncomfortable standing on my own, the other guy came over and I assumed he was going to ask me to dance.
His first words to me were ‘I hope you don’t want to dance.’
I thought this a bit odd as we were in a disco and I thought that’s what you usually do there. It was a few months later that the reason he said this was he had just come back to the ship from being off and had been home in Holland. He had gained some weight and had to borrow a friend’s pair of pants for his uniform and even those were a bit tight and he was worried something would happen. After knowing him for 27 years I now know he’s not a dancer.
We talked for a long time and then the lack of sleep and proper food kicked in and I had to go out on the deck to get some fresh air. He followed me and I said I really wasn’t feeling well and he could just leave me out there for a bit. Being a stubborn Dutchman, he stayed and I ended up ‘chucking my cookies’ over the railing, not realizing until it was too late that it was only to the deck below and not into the ocean. I must have looked as awful as I felt, but he didn’t care and was not put off. Apparently, he was one of the crew members who we had earlier walked in on at the pool and he remembered me.
The rest of the cruise was amazing, both for the beauty of the Caribbean and the wonderful things that happened. I was trying not to get too excited about this new relationship as I was a girl from Vancouver and he was a guy from The Netherlands. Over the duration on-board I received hand written notes (in broken English), flowers etc. to my cabin. He had found out who our cabin boy was and made arrangements with him to deliver the notes so they would be there when I got back to the cabin and the first bouquet of flowers apparently came from the zoo in Granada, where he paid some local to ‘get’.
I kept my guard up, just enjoying his company as I knew I would be leaving the ship in a few days.
The night before we were to disembark back in Fort Lauderdale was very difficult. He had been serenading me with his guitar playing and much conversation when it hit me that I really didn’t want this to end, but telling myself that how could things work out as we lived thousands of kilometers away from each other. We exchanged addresses and talked about contacting each other as you do in these situations not thinking really anything more about it as I had gone through some rough relationships in the not so distant past and didn’t hold up much hope for this one. I left the ship at the beginning of March, 1988.
After returning to my wonderful life in Vancouver with lots of stories and my vacation romance to share with my colleagues, I began to think daily of this Dutchman and dream (as you do) that it would be great to see him again. I wasn’t going to make the first move and never contacted him and I never heard from him either, thinking he had found someone else on another ship.
Months passed and May came around. This was a time in our office that we had our annual Managers meeting where our Managers came from Western Canada to our big meeting. For years, this meeting had been held in our own building on West Georgia Street in Vancouver. For some weird reason, I can’t remember, our President decided this year it would be held in the Vancouver Trade and Convention Centre, which also houses the Vancouver Cruise Ship Facility where the ships dock on their way to and from Alaska. The day came for the meeting and the facility was buzzing with excitement as it was also the first cruise ship departure of the new sailing season. There were hundreds (if not more) of people there and all TV stations reporting on the cruise ship season etc. I had gone downstairs to the main area at lunch to walk around and noticed the ship that was docked was the one I had been on in the Caribbean. My heart went all weird and I walked up to the ‘crew’ desk and asked if the man I met was on the ship.
I’m not sure what the answer was (as I’m sure they aren’t allowed to tell you) but I went and wrote a quick note and put it in an envelope. I took the envelope back to the desk and they said they would make sure Douwe (the man I met) would get it.
I was standing at the elevator to head back up to the meeting and noticed some guys running towards the ship out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, and without even thinking, I yelled his name.
The next few minutes was a bit of a blur and felt like it was all happening in slow motion. He turned and yelled my name and we both ran toward each other and just like in the movies, he picked me up and spun me around. I’ll never forget that moment.
We kissed and chatted quickly as he had to be back on board by a certain time or he would be sent back to Holland. We made arrangements that at a certain time after the meeting I would go up on one of the decks of the cruise ship facility (amazing facility if you haven’t seen it, looks like a ship) and he would be waiting on the top deck of the ship.
Well, we both kept our promise and after pushing my way through the crowds as the ship was about to leave for Alaska I made it to the railing. Yup, there he was waiving frantically, as I was as well. Of course we couldn’t yell loud enough and resorted to hand signals. I kinda understood that he would call me, not knowing from where and when but that was good enough for me. The ship departed with much fanfare, streamers, music and lots of people etc. Just like in the movies.I went back to my life. The ship left Vancouver on a Thursday and on Sunday my phone rang. He was outside a pizza place in Juno Alaska. This eventually became a regular phone booth on Sundays where he would call me and on Thursdays I would meet him in Vancouver. My company was great as they gave me some extra time over lunch (time I made up) to go and spend some time with him.
This became a regular event – Sunday phone call from Alaska and Thursdays in Vancouver until his contract ended in October. He stayed with me in North Vancouver for a little while and we traveled over to Vancouver Island where I had spent 7 years. I wanted him to see and experience it as he loved the outdoors. He couldn’t stay long as he had to head back to The Netherlands for family events already planned.
We spoke via telephone (no email then or texting) and, perhaps I shouldn’t mention this, but I was always so nervous that he might be the one and I was falling in Love with him that I would have to get off the phone for a minute to ‘chuck my cookies’ before continuing the conversation.He flew directly from The Netherlands to Florida for another contract so I wasn’t able to see him in person for a long time. We kept in constant contact and he wrote me many, many letters (which I still have, of course).
Christmas came around and I drove to my parents through a snowstorm (unusual for the lower mainland). My parents lived just over an hour outside Vancouver so I left my basement apartment in North Vancouver for Maple Ridge. I had only arrived to my parents' home for about 10 minutes when the phone rang. It was my friend (her and her husband owned the house where I lived in the basement). She said a nice Dutchman had come to the door with a little box! My heart nearly came out of my mouth thinking Douwe managed to get off the ship, fly to Vancouver and deliver a gift...
But no, it wasn’t him as he was still on contract on the ship in the Caribbean. It was a friend and co-worker who also had a girlfriend in North Vancouver. He had come to spend Christmas with her as he didn’t’ have to go back on the ship over that time. Douwe had given him the gift and asked him to bring it to my house, I had just missed him.
Needless to say, my Mom and I hopped in the car and drove back to North Vancouver. My friend was so excited and couldn’t wait for me to open the gift. There was a letter with it, of course so I read that first, keeping everyone in suspense. I was a little nervous to open the box as it was small and could really only contain two things – earrings or a ring! (he had given me a beautiful gold pendant of the ship we met on for my birthday in June).
The box contained a ring! It’s a beautiful emerald and diamond ring. There were no strings attached, just a ring. I can’t tell you how this made me feel and I really couldn’t believe this was all happening to me.
His plans were to finish his contract on the ship, go back to Holland and get a job. We had briefly discussed a similar scenario as I had dual citizenship with England and the only real way he could stay in Canada was for us to get married, but we never wanted that to be the reason for marriage so I decided I would follow him to Holland once he got settled. He already had an apartment there so it was just a matter of getting a job on land.
He had worked 4-1/2 years on board and felt it was time for a land job. He would phone me and tell me he wanted to live in a house together with a white picket fence etc. All those wonderful things you want to hear. He got himself a very good job and began in August of 1989.
I quit my amazing job with amazing people in Vancouver who gave me a very memorable send off!!!
It was very hard to leave everything I had in Vancouver, but felt deep down it was the thing I was supposed to do. Very, very difficult to leave my parents as I’m sure it was difficult for them to leave theirs 34 years previous when they left England to go to Canada. My Father had left in 1954 to find a job in Canada and get settled before sending for my Mom in 1955. Funny how -- sometimes -- history repeats itself.
I arrived to my new life in Arnhem, Holland in September, 1989. At first I spent my time getting used to the different culture and language, but then found myself working for an American computer company in Nijmegen and meeting lots of new friends.
In October Douwe and I drove to a small town in Germany, where I had grown up when my Father was in the Canadian Army. It was an amazing time as I had never been back to any base I had lived. Memories flooded in and it was a very special time. Armed with only a photograph and address of a gas station & house where we lived as our house on base wasn’t ready for us. We found the same gas station, went inside and with Douwe’s broken German we found the son of the lady (who I called Grandma) in the photograph. He remembered our family and quickly took Douwe and me through to the house at the back. We were taken on a full tour with him explaining and neither of us really understanding all his German. We learned they had done a lot of renovating over the years, but he showed me my bedroom etc. Lots of memories, but when I asked him about the lady in the photograph his eyes filled with tears as apparently I was a couple of months too late. She had recently passed away.
I later found out that Douwe’s plan was to propose to me while on that mini vacation, however his nerves and the emotions of the trip got the best of him.
November 17, 1989: after walking in the woods near the Castle in Rosendaal and nearly being attacked by running wild boar (Douwe was wearing a red jacket and we tried hiding behind a tree when we heard them approaching) he got down on one knee and proposed. Of course I said yes and was bursting to tell someone what had just happened so I stopped a couple of people who were in the area and told them.
After accepting their congratulations, I’m sure they thought I was a crazy Canadian.
August 17, 1990: we married in the small town where we lived – Dodewaard, The Netherlands. In Holland a civil ceremony is the only legal one so we were wed in the Town Hall, which looks almost like a castle with a winding staircase inside. It was a magical ceremony and we loved every minute of it. We were fortunate to have many friends, English family members and my Parents and sister, with her three daughters join us for our special day.
June 24, 1992 was the day we flew to Canada to begin our next adventure. Douwe had permanent resident status and we began applying for jobs while living with my sister in Nova Scotia. A busy summer paid off with a job in Ontario, which began September 28, 1992.
Although we have lived in Ontario and Douwe has worked for the same company since that time, we have moved 5 times and had a wonderful daughter along the way.This year marks our 25th Wedding Anniversary and our plans had been to return to Holland and celebrate with a couple who have been with us the entire journey. As the above proves, life doesn’t always plan out the way you’d thought and due to Douwe’s parents both being ill over the past year and our daughter going into post-secondary school in the fall, money has fallen short. We have decided that Douwe go back by himself to visit with his parents and we will go back to celebrate at another time. Things do happen for a reason and shortly after we had decided this, we received a message from our friends who we were to celebrate with that they are separating.
This latest news comes as a shock and saddens both of us. Our friends have also had an amazing journey. They flew from Amsterdam in 1993 to visit us in our new country. While at the airport they mailed cards to everyone to invite them to a celebration at a restaurant in Arnhem at a later date. You see, they hadn’t told anyone, not even their parents and while they were here in Canada they got married!!!
We have experienced many ups and downs as married couples do over the past 25 years, but our Love has endured and I am looking forward to taking some time for reflection this year – rereading the letters, looking at photographs etc., reliving our journey together and looking forward to the next 25!
Please join on us FACEBOOK to discuss this story... and remember sharing is caring. Please feel free to share this post!
Book News:
Don't forget to enter my GIVEAWAY! Five copies of my memoir are up for grabs! Also, the ebook of Seven Letters from Paris is priced at $2.99 on Amazon US, Canada, and UK (Kindle) and B&N (Nook) until March 3rd! Grab a copy today!
xox and bisous from Toulouse
Samantha
See you tomorrow with another TRUE LOVE STORY!
For other essays like this, see the below 'related posts' and enjoy...
February 17, 2015
A Story of Love Lost and Love Found...
SOURCE
A True Love Guest Post by Joanne from Australia
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said...take it away on Tuesday, Joanne:
~~~~
My story is one of love lost and love found – it would be a great movie
I am now 50 years old and happily married but it has been a somewhat bumpy journey at times.
When I was 20 years old I went on my first ever holiday without my family. I went with a friend from university to a beach side resort. It was here that I met and fell in love with Brad. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen and I couldn’t believe he’d chosen me! As I still had 12 months of university left, we spent the next 12 months travelling 1000kms every 5 or 6 weeks to visit each other, usually just for a weekend. When I finished university I moved to Sydney to be with him. It was horrible leaving my family (I cried every night for a month) but I was so in love I had to be with him.
Brad and I were married three years after we first met, I started working as a teacher and he started his own business as a mechanic. Life was good. We built a house and then welcomed our beautiful twin daughters.
But Brad yearned for more of a challenge in his career and after a failed business venture, which meant I needed to return to work when our daughters were 5 months old, he eventually started what was to become a very successful business in the motor industry.
It was at this time that our marriage started to fall apart. Once our daughters were born it became evident to me that Brad was not prepared to change his lifestyle too much to be a Dad. He very much lived a bachelor lifestyle with many day trips and holidays with mates. The business was booming and we were becoming quite wealthy. Eventually we moved to a beautiful big house (I say ‘house’ because for me it was never really a home) and Brad urged me to give up work so that I could look after our investment properties.
I always felt insecure with Brad and worried constantly about him being unfaithful. There was obviously good reason for my worry because he was in fact unfaithful to me on several occasions during the course of our marriage. After 16 years of marriage, when our daughters were 13, it was over. He had been seeing a girl behind my back for 3 years. This affair began when the girl was 18yrs old; she was 18 years younger than Brad and I and only 8 years older than our daughters! She was young enough to be our daughter!!
The emotional decline I then went through was something I would not wish on anyone. I was living in Sydney, away from all my family and I had two daughters to look after. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. While my daughters were at school I can remember laying in bed, curled up in the fetal position, crying all day. I tried my best to be happy when my daughters were there but I don’t think I did a great job. Eventually I pulled myself together and went back to teaching because I’d missed it so much. There was a deep sadness inside me but I just kept going through the motions day after day.
A friend I taught with broke up with her fiancé and because she had to move house I suggested she come and live with us. She was a lot younger than me but I thought having another adult around would be good for both the girls and me. One day she suggested that I register on RSVP, which is an online dating site.
I was horrified and said “No way!”
Well, she managed to talk me into it and I went along with it for a bit of fun. Within a week, the first person I connected with via email was a guy named Pete. He was a carpenter and lived in Melbourne. This was good because I’d decided that I wanted to move back to Victoria to be closer to my family.
Pete’s story - I’ll try to keep it brief but his story would also make a great movie
Pete had been married twice before and has 5 children; I know! He sounds shocking on paper! I always tell him that. He went to England when he was in his early 20s, met an English girl and after she ‘accidentally’ became pregnant they were married. They had 3 children together but the marriage was never a good one. He realizes now that he should not have married her just because she was pregnant but he is an honorable man and felt that this was the right thing to do. When this marriage ended he met another English girl and she ‘accidentally’ became pregnant too! I always tell him he’s too nice and gullible (They were married and had 2 children. His second wife became a heavy drinker and Pete worked 3 jobs to keep them all going. He was also very sick at this time, with crohn’s disease, which was probably brought on by stress. He kept on going, working hard, usually in immense pain and looked after his family, as well as spending time with his other children. He too was left heartbroken when his wife had an affair and left him.)
So here he was, living in England, 5 children, 2 ex-wives and the rest of his family worried sick about him back in Australia. His crohn’s disease became worse and he had to have surgery to have part of his bowel removed. He almost died and lost an enormous amount of weight. His mother flew over to be with him and urged him to come home. At first he refused because he did not want to leave his children but he was so unwell and homesick for Australia that eventually he agreed.
After settling back into Australia his health improved and he started working as a carpenter again. It was his sister who suggested that he go on the online dating site RSVP…
When I first saw Pete’s photo I thought he was good looking and his profile read well. I was impressed by the fact that he could spell correctly (you should have seen some of them). We sent each other a few emails, giving each other a few details about our lives. It was all very exciting but scary at the same time. Finally I decided to give him my phone number so that we could talk on the phone. OMG, I have never been so nervous! I sat the phone on the kitchen bench and stood in front of it, waiting for it to ring at the agreed time. Then it did! I jumped. I don’ know why because I was expecting it to ring. I waited for it to ring a few times – I didn’t want to look too keen – and then answered it! I was 40 years old (Pete was 45) and I felt like a schoolgirl. I had butterflies in my stomach and I was trying to choose my words carefully so that I didn’t sound like a fool. I had no need to worry because we instantly felt at ease with each other and the conversation flowed. Three hours later our first phone call ended. Over the next 2 weeks (after my daughters went to bed) we talked every night on the phone for at least 2 hours. Over those 2 weeks I fell in love with Pete and we hadn’t even met!
I had a planned visit to Melbourne to go on a bus shopping tour with my mum, sister and cousin, so Pete and I planned to have dinner on the Saturday night after the shopping tour. He would pick me up at my cousin’s house. This would be the first time we’d meet face to face.
To say I was nervous is an understatement. I stood at the front window, peering out, waiting for his car to arrive. Then he arrived. As I walked out to his car I was willing myself not to trip over and fall flat on my face in front of him. It was all ok, because as soon as we laid eyes on each other my nerves were gone. It just felt right! We gave each other a hug and then I asked him to come to the front door to meet my daughters. One of my daughters (the worrier) was quite concerned that I was going out with a strange man so I wanted to introduce Pete to them. He was very nice and spent a few minutes chatting to them. Then we set off on our first date.
We decided to get Thai food and take it back to his house. I’m usually a very good eater, especially when it comes to Thai food, but I hardly ate a thing. I don’t know if I was too excited or if I was worried about looking bad for eating too much! We talked and talked and for the first time in my life I was with a man who wanted to listen to what I had to say. I was always the good listener and no man had ever really wanted to hear much about what I had to say. When we went into the kitchen to clear the dinner dishes Pete came over to me and gave me our first kiss. I will never forget that first kiss. It was like I had never been kissed before. He had such beautiful soft lips and he was so gentle. It was amazing! We spent the rest of the night talking, kissing and cuddling. My life with Pete had begun!
Over the next 12 months we commuted between Melbourne and Sydney and 12 months later my daughters and I moved to Melbourne to live with Pete in our new home. My daughters adore Pete and he has been such a calming, stable presence in their lives. They have both said to me that Pete is to them what a father should be. They are very close. They still visit their Dad and although he often disappoints them I remind them that he loves them very much and always will.
I have made peace with him and his new wife (yes the same young girl) and we go out to dinner together when they are in town. I realized that being bitter and angry was only hurting me. Although what Brad put me through will always be a painful memory, I have moved on and found true happiness. My daughters settled quickly into their life in Melbourne, making new friends, dong well at school and enjoying being so close to our extended family. The friend/teacher who lived with us in Sydney now lives in Victoria too. I introduced her to my cousin, they fell in love, got married and now have 3 sons (two of them twins). Pete speaks to his children every week, also keeps in touch via facebook and we visit them in England every year or they come here. He is still very close to them, if not in distance.
Pete and I have now been together for 10 years. The time has gone so fast. He is my best friend. I feel totally secure with Pete. I never feel like I have to rush and put lipstick on when I hear him coming home or clean up the mess on the bench (which is what it was like with Brad), I can just be myself and he still loves me.
Pete and I went to Las Vegas and Hawaii after Christmas in 2013. When my daughters heard we were going to Las Vegas one of them suggested that we get married there. She said, “Mum, it’s perfect. You meet online and get married in Vegas!”
Pete and I looked at each other, discussed it later on...and then, we did it!! On the 1st January 2014 we were married in Vegas! We then had a wonderful week in Hawaii, which I suppose you could call our honeymoon.
One night in Hawaii we were sitting on our balcony, having a drink and looking out at the ocean and Pete said that he wanted me to listen to a song. He then played the song ‘Thank You’ by Keith Urban. It was a beautiful moment, one I will never forget. The words in the song melted my heart. I’ve include a link below if you’d like to listen to it. The words that brought tears to my eyes were:
And I found myself in places I thought I'd never goSurrounded by strangers I was so far from homeAnd I don't know how you found meAll I know is I owe everything to you, yes I doAnd I thank you for my heart, I thank you for my lifeAnd I thank God for grace and mercy and that you became my wifeI'm seein' for the first time the stars, the sun and moonBut they've got nothin' on the power of this love I have for youAnd I thank you
So, that is my story, my happy ever after……
~~~~~~
Please join on us FACEBOOK to discuss this story... and remember sharing is caring. Please feel free to share this post! xox
Note: I'm a firm believer that people come into our lives for a reason. After reading my book, Joanne contacted me on Facebook with a very sweet note. Her timing was impeccable and she knows what I'm talking about. And we've been talking ever since. To Joanne: if you and your hubs are ever in France...look us up (consider this an open invitation...). Also, thank you for sharing your story. Some people just...connect.
~~~~~~
BOOK NEWS: Be sure to enter my giveaways!
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PLUS! Thanks to my US publisher (Sourcebooks), Seven Letters from Paris is now priced at $2.99 (normally $14.99) in celebration of LOVE MONTH. This e-book promotion will run from February 14th until March 3rd – on Amazon.com (for Kindle/iPads) and on Barnes & Noble (Nook).
Here are the links:
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XOX
Samantha
I'll see you tomorrow with another TRUE LOVE story.
February 16, 2015
Finding Love on Facebook: A True Leap of Faith LOVE STORY
A True Love Guest Post by Kathy from Florida
Note: This week I'm handing over my blog to five lovely souls who have shared their LOVE stories with me. I'd like to keep LOVE alive as an ongoing event, so if you have a story you'd like to share, please, pop me an email HERE and I'll post your story. Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
With that said...here we go!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I met Robert for the first time when we were 13. We were in middle school and had a few classes together. I remember that I was very boy crazy at the time and thought that he was cute. I liked him for about a week and then moved on to the next crush, but he was to remain my friend. I was in 8th grade that year, and what I remember most was that I developed two significant "life long" male friendships: Michael and Robert.
So there I was, a romantic teenage girl with two friends that were boys. I had friends that were girls, but the friendships were on a much different level. As the years passed, I ended up dating the one boy, Michael, but as it turned out, he was more interested in other boys than girls. Robert and I never dated.
At the start of my 9th grade year, I had a boyfriend that I went steady with for over 2 years. I was 14 and he was 18. I am still not sure why my parents allowed me to date him given our age difference, but it was a good relationship. We broke up when I was 16, shortly after he proposed marriage. I wasn't even thinking of marriage yet, but he was. He was 20 and was ready. It was that issue that lead to our breakup, as shortly after that, he met a girl and they married less than a year later.
I dated others casually in 11th grade. I was most definitely college bound and was very much involved in my schoolwork, band, clubs, and working at the hospital. By the time I was a Senior, I had another steady boyfriend who proposed while we were in college. (We went to separated colleges in different states. I moved away to Alabama, and I think he wanted me to come back home.)
Eventually, I met my first husband and we married when I was 20. Before we had children, I finished college, we started a business, and I started my career as a Speech/Language Pathologist. We also renovated an old lakefront home and two boats. We have two sons together. They are 25 and 23. My oldest son will be getting married this April.
After 16 years of marriage, it was obvious that my first husband was miserable. There were several issues that led to our divorce, but in the end, he found the will to leave when he fell in love with another woman. They are still together today and very much in love.
I remarried a man that was the son of a couple that were friends with my parents. He was 40 and a confirmed bachelor. He very set in his ways and a strong fundamentalist Christian. This marriage ended disastrously. He left me because "God told him to." He had prayed for a "godly, submissive wife" and I wasn't doing what "scripture said a good wife was to do." One day he came home and told me that God had released him from his marriage vows to me as I wasn't being submissive to him. Admittedly, I am pretty strong willed, smart and financially self sufficient, but hearing that sent me reeling. And the wounds left me physically sick, mentally depressed and financially bankrupt. I have not spoken to him since he left and filed for divorce. Good riddance! That was in 2007.
Now, back to the story of me and Robert. Like I said we were friends in 8th grade and most of 9th grade. He moved away sometime during our freshman year. While he was gone, he would write me letters telling me of what he was up to. It turned out that his parents had gotten a divorce sometime before I had ever met him. His mother moved away and left him and his older brothers with his dad. In 9th grade, he actually "ran away" to live with his mother in Chicago. Every now and then I would talk to his older brother at school and would tell him to let Robert know that I was asking about him.
Then sometime in later high school (maybe our Senior year?) he showed up at my house. We sat in my front yard and talked at great length about all that we had been up to. I now know more of what his life was like at that time, but even then I got the message that he was looking for a lifeline. As it turned out, when he ran away to Chicago, he ended up getting a job, dropping out of school, and moving back home with his dad, who had remarried. He has told me since that his intent when he come to see me was to ask me to be his girlfriend. He said that I was always nice to him and that he wanted a nice girlfriend like me.
As I recall, during that conversation he told me that he was moving out of his dad's house and was wondering if I wanted to get an apartment with him. I remember telling him that there was no way my dad would let me move in with a boy unless I was married to him. He jokingly suggested that we could get married. Somehow, I managed to let him down gently. Still, he ended up walking out of my life that day feeling like a fool. I saw him one other time just before I got married for the first time. We talked and I told him that I was going to get married in a few weeks. He had joined the Army and was a recent newlywed himself. I was very happy for both of us.
The day before I got married something very tragic happened to Robert. One of his best friends committed suicide by shooting himself with a gun. Robert was the one who found the body. On the day of my wedding, Robert had a breakdown. Shortly after this, his marriage ended.
Of course, I heard about this and for some reason felt compelled to start to pray for Robert. At the time I kept a journal and would keep him in my thoughts and prayers there as well. Then the years passed...
Eventually he remarried, became a general contractor and had two daughters. His daughters are 19 and 14.
So...what is our story?
We found each other again (via FaceBook...I know...) in 2011. We immediately started our friendship back up. I truly feel that we can go for years without seeing or talking to certain people but that red cord of connect truly does bind us. That is the case with Robert and me.
I guess that God, the Universe, the stars or whatever looks out for us and times things in such a way that when we most need it, our souls and spirits are sent soaring.
I was dating another man (it was long distance and he was 12 years my senior) when Robert and I found each other again in January of 2011. He was unhappily married to his partner, but felt good about the home and environment that he was able to provide for his daughters. It turns out that his wife had been unfaithful to him, but he remained in the home because he didn't want his daughters to have the same ill effects of divorce as he did. I admire him for this.
We started to talk and met up one day for lunch (we lived an hour away from each other). We talked everyday (and have for 4 years now). I ended up breaking up with my boyfriend and, upon Robert's suggestion, moved back to my hometown. My sons had moved out so I had an empty nest. I was able to find a job back home that paid a substantial amount more than I was previously being paid. Plus, my parents were still in town.
It made perfect sense to make the leap of faith.
As time has gone by, Robert and I have become best friends. Right now, we are talking about future plans and laying down the foundation for our own happily-ever-after. I think we're off to a great start...
Please join on us FACEBOOK to comment/discuss this story or your own...
BOOK NEWS: Be sure to enter my giveaways!
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PLUS! Thanks to my US publisher (Sourcebooks), Seven Letters from Paris is now priced at $2.99 (normally $14.99) in celebration of LOVE MONTH. This e-book promotion will run from February 14th until March 3rd – on Amazon.com (for Kindle/iPads) and on Barnes & Noble (Nook).
Here are the links:
B&N
AMAZON
AMAZON UK
AMAZON CA
XOX
Samantha
I'll see you tomorrow with another TRUE LOVE story.
February 13, 2015
L'amour is in the air. And to celebrate l'amour...I'm giving away five copies of Seven Letters from Paris!
Love is in the air...I know. I know. I know. (The French repeat statements 3x for emphasis, and hey, like Sarah Turnbull, I'm Almost French). Sooooo...Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday, but that doesn't mean I don't love it. I do. I receive goofy cards like the one pictured above from my husband. (Note: we are both frogs). Maybe a bouquet of flowers? And a night out on the town. Goodbye yoga pants and gym shoes! Tomorrow night, I'll be wearing a dress, heels, and looking fifty shades of sexy.* Well, in my frog's eyes.
Don't get me wrong! I love cooking for my French family, but sometimes I need a break from the kitchen (every self -proclaimed frog princess does). And, sometimes, it's nice to have dinner as a couple sans les enfants. Enter Valentine's Day.
* Rumor has it the Fifty Shades movie is boring with a capital B and the actors have no chemistry what-so-ever. Personally, I'll skip this one in the theater. I'm looking forward to Trainwreck with Amy Schumer, which comes out this summer. Here is the PG-rated trailer:
Seriously? Why isn't this movie coming out sooner? Why? Why? Why? Why are they are torturing us with chips, dips, chains and whips when we all just want to laugh or get our romantic feels on?
On romantic feels: next week, starting Monday, I'm turning my blog over to five AMAZING people who will be sharing their love stories. (Three of them are in-- I hope the other two will pull through). Some of the stories are funny. Some are utterly romantic. Most importantly, they are true. Thanks to my memoir, I've connected with these lovely souls –– either via email, on Facebook, or Twitter. Nope. Didn't know them before, but I'm so very thankful that I know them now.
I can't wait to share the love!
And...on sharing the love. I took advantage of my $1.99 Kindle special on Amazon a few weeks ago. I bought four copies of my book to gift to you. Even if you've read my book, DO enter! You can send the email on to a friend. This offer is open to US residents only as the books were purchased on Amazon.com. But I do have a worldwide giveaway, too. One signed copy of SEVEN LETTERS is up for grabs! Enter below! Winners will be chosen on February 22nd, the day Venus and Mars come together. (No, I have no idea what this means, but it does sound epic!)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
And wait! There's more!
Valentine’s Day in Paris! What’s more romantic than a trip to Paris?
My US publisher is offering four of their Paris memoirs (including mine!) for $2.99 (normally $14.99) each in celebration of Valentine’s Day. This e-book promotion will run from February 14th until March 3rd! Grab copies over at Amazon or B&N:
Seven Letters from Paris, by moiParis Letters, by Janice MacLeodParis, My Sweet by Amy ThomasWe'll Always Have Paris by Jennifer Coburn
Book News:
Check out the utterly romantic cover for the Brazilian edition of Seven Letters from Paris.xox
Sam
Remember! Sharing is caring! Share this post and good karma will come your way.
L'amour is in the air. And to celebrate l'amour...I'm giving away five
copies of Seven Letters from Paris!
Love is in the air...I know. I know. I know. (The French repeat statements 3x for emphasis, and hey, like Sarah Turnbull, I'm Almost French). Sooooo...Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday, but that doesn't mean I don't love it. I do. I receive goofy cards like the one pictured above from my husband. (Note: we are both frogs). Maybe a bouquet of flowers? And a night out on the town. Goodbye yoga pants and gym shoes! Tomorrow night, I'll be wearing a dress, heels, and looking fifty shades of sexy.* Well, in my frog's eyes.
Don't get me wrong! I love cooking for my French family, but sometimes I need a break from the kitchen (every self -proclaimed frog princess does). And, sometimes, it's nice to have dinner as a couple sans les enfants. Enter Valentine's Day.
* Rumor has it the Fifty Shades movie is boring with a capital B and the actors have no chemistry what-so-ever. Personally, I'll skip this one in the theater. I'm looking forward to Trainwreck with Amy Schumer, which comes out this summer. Here is the PG-rated trailer:
Seriously? Why isn't this movie coming out sooner? Why? Why? Why? Why are they are torturing us with chips, dips, chains and whips when we all just want to laugh or get our romantic feels on?
On romantic feels: next week, starting Monday, I'm turning my blog over to five AMAZING people who will be sharing their love stories. (Three of them are in-- I hope the other two will pull through). Some of the stories are funny. Some are utterly romantic. Most importantly, they are true. Thanks to my memoir, I've connected with these lovely souls –– either via email, on Facebook, or Twitter. Nope. Didn't know them before, but I'm so very thankful that I know them now.
I can't wait to share the love!
And...on sharing the love. I took advantage of my $1.99 Kindle special on Amazon a few weeks ago. I bought four copies of my book to gift to you. Even if you've read my book, DO enter! You can send the email on to a friend. This offer is open to US residents only as the books were purchased on Amazon.com. But I do have a worldwide giveaway, too. One signed copy of SEVEN LETTERS is up for grabs! Enter below! Winners will be chosen on February 22nd, the day Venus and Mars come together. (No, I have no idea what this means, but it does sound epic!)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
a Rafflecopter giveaway
And wait! There's more!
Valentine’s Day in Paris! What’s more romantic than a trip to Paris?
My US publisher is offering four of their Paris memoirs (including mine!) for $2.99 (normally $14.99) each in celebration of Valentine’s Day. This e-book promotion will run from February 14th until March 3rd! So if you have an iPad, a Sony Reader, Kobo, or a Nook, this deal is for you! Yes, they accept foreign payments! A win-win! The pricing goes into effect on Saturday, the 14th...
Here are the purchase links:
Seven Letters from Paris by moi
Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod
Paris, My Sweet by Amy Thomas
We'll Always Have Paris by Jennifer Coburn
Book News:
Check out the utterly romantic cover for the Brazilian edition of Seven Letters from Paris.xox
Sam
Remember! Sharing is caring! Share this post and good karma will come your way.
February 4, 2015
Looking for LOVE (stories)
Love.
L'amour. Amar. Amore. Láska. Cinta Kasih. обичам. љубав. Meilė. 사랑. ความรัก. 愛. 爱. Szerelem. Die Liebe. Miłość. любов. Ljubav.
Type text or a website address or translate a document.Cancelləv αγάπη. Elske. 愛. Dragoste. इश्क. Elsker. Rakkaus. älskar...
No matter how we say it or spell it or write it, one thing is certain, we all aspire to have love in our lives. In Seven Letters from Paris, I share my story of finding love and opening up my heart with readers from around the world. (What a mind blowing thought!) Since publication, I've received messages from people from every corner of this beautiful planet of ours who have either a) shared their stories with me or b) have told me how-- in some way, shape or form-- they connected to my journey. It's incredible! With Valentine's Day (I know, I know– a Hallmark holiday, but still) making it's speedy approach, I thought, what a great month to share YOUR love stories. There are so many incredible stories out there! And why stop in the month February? We should be celebrating LOVE every day -- or at the very least once a month! Yes, I'd like for this to be a monthly or bi-monthly love event.
Some of you don't have blogs. So use mine to get your story out there! Some of you may want to remain anonymous. And that's just fine. (I promise, stick a needle in my eye, to keep your identity hush-hush). Your story can be as long or as short as you want it to be. You can change names and locations. You can send me photos to post if you'd like. Mostly, though, and I speak from experience, writing and getting your story 'out there' feels just plain good. All I ask from you is that your story is about love, whether you are searching for it or have found it, that it delivers a positive message in the end, and that it is TRUE. Hey, in this crazy world of ours, we all need a little dash of HOPE.
Email me!!!
I want to hear from YOU!
In your email, in addition to your story, please include how you'd like to attributed (it can be anonymous, a made-up name, or for you adventurous types-- your real name) and any links to your social media outlets you'd like to share. (Obviously, if you're anonymous--we won't include any links. Kind of defeats the point!)
Let's share some love!
LIFE NEWS
Waiting for the last skis standing...Two weekends ago, we spent the weekend skiing – a half good/ half bad experience. The Bad: JL was nursing a torn muscle, so he didn't ski w/us. It was just me and the kids. The first day, I took the kids to get a snack at a restaurant near the summit. When we were finished eating our nutella-filled crêpes, Elvire couldn't locate her rental skis. Somebody had taken off with them. We had to wait until the whole restaurant cleared out (an hour and a half) to find the last pair standing! They were from the same rental company-- but were too big. Thankfully, the guys at the lift were able to adjust them because there was only one way to get back down the mountain: to ski. At this point, bad weather had rolled in. Plus, we had to take one more lift up to the 'blue' run...or I'd kill myself on an advanced run. (I'm a light blue skiier). The lift was about to close. We were the last people on it. Nobody behind us. Obviously, we survived...but the situation could have gotten really bad. We ran into the "thief" at the rental shop. He felt terrible he'd put us in that situation. I held back my snarl. Elvire's skis were red. His were green. And his feet were bigger! The next day was perfect...
BOOK NEWS!
Check out this wonderful cover for art the Bulgarian edition of Seven Letters from Paris! It is beautiful perfection! (My humble opinion!) The hummingbird...and seven letters. In case you are wondering, my name is Camahta Bepah in Bulgarian. The book releases in Bulgaria tomorrow! Can't wait!In the past two weeks, the translation rights to Seven Letters have sold to both Italy and Greece! I've been doing a strange Elaine version from Seinfeld of the happy dance for weeks. No, I won't be posting a video of this. Dare me. I just might. (But only to make you laugh...)
Great book review in the Minneapolis Star Tribune! Merci! http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/books/290375271.html
I'm working on some super secret stuff. I hope to share the news soon (ish).
Note: I've decided to close comments on all forthcoming blog posts. WHY, you ask? Well, I like interacting with people and I find Facebook and Twitter to be way more effective...because I'm able to respond. Please feel free to share and tweet the posts you like...then join in on the conversation.
Twitter: samantha_verant
Seven Letter's Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/SevenLettersFromParis
My FB Page (friend me up!): https://www.facebook.com/slverant
xoxox
Bisous from Toulouse,
Samantha
Type text or a website address or translate a document.Cancelləv
January 11, 2015
Seven Letters from Paris is an Amazon deal! Love for 1.99!
Have a Kindle or an iPad? Grab a copy of Seven Letters from Paris for 1.99. At this price, why not gift a copy to a friend? Share the love!
click here!
Best wishes and bisous from Toulouse,
Samantha
click here!
Best wishes and bisous from Toulouse,
Samantha
