Let it Snow!!! One year on...

There is a light frost this morning.
That might not sound remarkable, well into December and surrounded by Alps... yet last week the temperatures were still reaching to 20C (68F)!
Last year the first week of November in Grenoble looked like this:





(Grenoble's famous 'téléphérique' here, taking folk up to the old fort overlooking the city. That beautiful door is the entrance to my rheumatologist!)

As you can see, we quite delighted in the snow and ice, which came even before the fountains were shut off for winter. And you may be able to spy Christmas decorations in the background of some of these shots -- in our part of France, Christmas lights are left up year-round. So when it snows in November, it feels rather festive. (I must point out the umbrella...as a child I always thought it an oddity of fauns, to carry umbrellas in snow. I have since discovered that they obviously do it because of their European heritage; it is quite normal here).
So...that was November 2005.
This is December...almost mid-December...2006:
The flowers in the vase were picked in the garden a few days ago. Some anemones are blooming, and tulips pushing up. You can see that the Japanese Quince (above) is blossoming away, and the forsythia is also starting to join it. I actually saw a dragonfly last week. There are still caterpillars munching on nasturtiums. Bizarre for us -- potentially disastrous for the fruit farmers. We're told that it was the warmest November in at least 150 years, and December seems headed in the same direction.
So it's good to see a bit of frost this morning.


Life has been very full since our last blog entry ....our photo albums keep us minded of that. So much has happened already since the walnut harvest: apples, pumpkins, beans, and kiwis, to start with!



Our apple trees have been identified as 'Reine des Renette,' apparently a sort of French heritage apple which is hard to find these days, and 'Golden Delicious.' The Goldens are fine -- but we love the Renettes!













Our pumpkins were incredible -- the seeds a gift from our Galiano friends, the fruit just grew bigger and bigger. Butterflies would gather to drink the rain water collected in their folds.




















And then, the infamous Kiwis!







This is what they looked like earlier in the season,
climbing up the wall of the barn.











Then in early November we harvested: 179!
(seeing as we were told that there were 25 last year, the multiplication scares us some....)











































So enough of Pré Borel produce -- but a good way to celebrate One Year. For that's what it was last week: one year since we moved in. A full one -- but undoubtedly the photos have shown that despite the veritable difficulties, there has also been much delight.
And much thankfulness. We would not be here but for the incredible graciousness of friends and family. The only way we can try to thank them enough is by trying to live here Well.

And that first anniversary indicates another.
Wednesday will be one year since Greg's operation.
A whole other flood of thankfulness there. In many directions.
It has, indeed, been a full year.
And now, a year on, after the doctors seemed to have given up hope of any nerve regrowth in Greg's face, there seems like there might be just a tiny bit occurring. As written before, it is still too early to be entirely confident that the tiny movements are for good reasons (regrowth) rather than worrisome ones (parasitic movement). However, as the movement very very incrementally expands, we are becoming more and more hopeful. There is no question that I can now tell when Greg is smiling, even when sitting on his right-hand side. Three months ago I had no idea, as that face-side was completely immobile. Now, there is a little lift, a little curve. It is good to see.
The nerve re-growth typically moves up from the bottom of the face. So if that is what is happening, it will be some time before we know if it will reach his eye or not. The eye is still the crucial thing, as Greg needs to be able to at least close it easily enough on demand, or if not, still have some sort of reconstructive surgery to attempt to enable that. But any motions towards surgery are tabled for a while.
It'd be lovely if we could table them altogether.
There is relatively good news on my end. I've been able to cut back on pain meds a bit, and as a result, have a much clearer brain. My blood results of the last two months, and x-rays, have been sufficient to convince my rheumatologist that there is no need to look at changing major meds right now. Yeah! In fact there may even be a tiny bit of bone regeneration in my good foot (the missing cartilage won't return, but sometimes bone does...and we found out a couple of years ago that despite the RA seriously eroding my bones at the joints, my bone density is far above average for a person in my situ -- the doctor was actually shocked, especially as there's osteoporosis in the family, and asked if I consumed a lot of milk and fresh veg as a kid. "I grew up on a farm..." "Ah hah....") The not so good news is what I'd already been suspecting: my right wrist -- my writing hand -- is not going to last an awful lot longer. No knowing how long. After Christmas I will have 'x-ray guided steroid injections' (weird!), but eventually we will have to look at surgery options. Again. (It's actually been 6 years since my thumb tendon replacement.) It seems probable that full wrist replacement will be the best...mind you, if that works as well as the knee replacements of folk I know, that'll be a major improvement! I just hope I will continue to be able to hold a pen in relatively the same manner.....
But, even if not, I'll still find some way to scribble on. Just like Greg still finds ways to have ridiculous physical adventures. Some things are just in the blood....
I won't publish here the photo Greg took of himself after his most recent bicycle accident - it is far too ugly! Suffice it to saw that his lips were so swollen on the right side that they could not close, he had scraped off the newly-grown beard on his chin, earned an 8-stitch scar, and broken two teeth. Indeed, he is at the dentist right now, receiving 'tooth reconstruction'!! Perhaps he was missing his yearly raconteur with the nurses. (though this time wasn't quite so successful -- the young doctor actually left the room after the first two stitches...and fainted! Another had to come and finish the job for her!!)
BTW, if some of you are wondering *how* this time: it was apparently the fault of a small rock in the cycle lane. Fortunately he wasn't far from work, so he went to the medical office there. Not surprisingly, the nurse and I know each other by now (....), so she rang me up to tell me that Greg was heading off to the hospital in an ambulance if I wanted to join him at our old rendez-vous. (For those not familiar with this aspect of Greg's history, this is his third hospital-inducing bicycle adventure....the last time we were at this same hospital for such an event, before we actually lived in France, he had managed to break 5 ribs, a shoulder blade, and his collarbone. So you see, a few stitches, a few teeth....nothing much to write home about, really.....

Instead of the ugly photo, here's one with his beard already starting to grow back in....we'll see if it covers the scar fully or not. (He already has troubles shaving above his lip, on the other side, due to another old bicycle scar...) You may notice that eventhough he is outdoors, where the light in his eyes exaggerates the difference the most, that his face is looking pretty symetric, and 'relaxed'. Because he isn't making any particular movement with his face, a casual observer would not even be able to tell that something was unusual.
These were taken on the weekend, when celebrating the second birthday of Greg's godson, by taking him pony-back riding. A roaring success BTW.































And a random 'Liquid Amber leaf' shot. A cousin of the maple, we love its presence in our garden, serving to remind us of our Canadian blood.


We may, we may not
get around to another entry for Christmas.
If not
deeply felt thanks to those of you who have walked through this year with us,
praying, caring, helping, letting us know that you were there.
From the early days of daily reports typed out by gracious hands on our behalf, to our now sporadic ramblings.
We are aware that there are even people we have never met who have held us up...which has humbled us, and carried us. There is no way we could adequately be in contact with you all, let alone adequately thank you all. But we are learning more and more about how trying to 'Live Well' can be in and of itself a profound response of gratitude to overwhelming goodnesses.
And so we're trying to trying to keep learning how to Live Well. Sometimes we're ok, sometimes we slip up. But we're working at working on it.
And with many thanks to you.

A blessed Advent to you all...that time of Waiting and Expectation that prepares us for Christmas...
and may the Grace and Joy and Peace and Goodness of that celebration be with you...even in the midst of life's sometimes very hard challenges.
G&K