Life aboard the S.S. Minnow with First Mate Betty Crocker

Well, it would appear that my transformation is now complete.  I can proudly report that I am “officially” the “lady of the house”.  I remember a time not so long ago when I used to lust after such boyish things as fast cars and high end electronics, but these days all I can think about is getting my hands on a really good tart ring.  The truth is, the wife’s terribly demanding career and tremendously long working hours means that more often than not you will find me in the kitchen come dinner time.  I spend my evenings puttering around doing my dead level best not to set myself, the house, or any of the children on fire while pouring over recipes in our Better Homes and Gardens Cook Book.  I have come up with a poor result or two, but usually the meals are relatively edible.  I seem to shine the most when my disdain for grocery shopping has a hand in the menu.  In an effort to avoid going grocery shopping (also one of my frequent duties) I will find any way I can to mix household ingredients (some edible, some not so) into some coherent dish that the children won’t vomit at the first sight of.  So far, the mystery casseroles have been a big hit.  It always comes out a little breakfasty, but so far, nobody has complained.  Now, cooking does not at all come to me naturally.  I know some fellas out there that are geniuses in the kitchen, but I am not one of them.  I keep it simple so that not a lot of thinking is required.  In accepting this new post as House Chef, I have found myself very fond of baking and in all actuality I am not that bad at it.  For the past week, I have been doing my best Duff Goldman and churning out as much cake as the family can consume and some they can’t.  I have never been one to lend just half my ass to a project, so don’t be surprised if you received a cake for Christmas.  Baking makes more sense to me I guess.  The palate isn’t complicated and the flavors are easier to sort out.  Perhaps one day I will actually cook as good as I bake, but until then, the family is just going to have to eat a light meal and hope for a sizable helping of dessert.

Someone recently indicated that I seemed to be tiring of our life here in France.  To be honest, I think perhaps I am tiring of life as a whole.  No, I am not on the verge of pitching myself off of a bridge, but I do feel a need for change.  I have come to an acute understanding about myself over the past several months.  I would never make it on an assembly line.  Doing the same job, day in and day out is a killer.  Repetition bores the shit out of me.  I think that is the main reason I seem so discontented over the past several days.  I am doing what I can to switch things up on a daily basis, but a recent conversation took a fair bit of the wind out of my sails.  We received news that they are looking at extending our sentence to the 5 year mark.  Perhaps I shouldn’t cloak it in prison terms and say “tour of duty” instead, but that somehow makes this seem like war, which it clearly is not.  There are certain realities that come with your wife chasing down a career as an international woman of mystery.  There is ultimately a definite emphasis on term “international”.  Travel seems to beget more travel, and that reality is never too far out of our thoughts.  There has always been the possibility that another transfer to parts unknown would come our way at the end of our 2 years here in France, but we had mentally committed ourselves to a certain expectation as to the length of our stay nonetheless.  When you do so, you find it very difficult to come to terms with a change in plans.  Adaptability has sort of been our bread and butter throughout our life together, so the wife and I generally take things in stride.  I think for me, I have always hung my hat on the idea that no matter how difficult the challenges became, we could survive most anything for a short 2 years.  In fact, at this point, we will soon be reaching the half-way point in our adventure if in fact that is our reality.  We have taken great care in maintaining our life back in the US, for it is there that we feel we belong, all the while knowing that life has a way of leading you in a different direction than that which you intend.  Please refer back to Robert Frost’s masterpiece from a few posts back and you will get the point.  Still, the realities of uncertainty can be a tough pill to swallow, even for those of us that desire constant change and follow that road less travelled. 

With all of this on our minds, we still find it possible to rest easy at night.  Why?  It is simply because we have learned over the years never to look at life from inside the box.  There are always choices to make, always alternatives to the current charted course.  Some lead to calmer seas while others have you sharing a sketchy looking hut with the Skipper.  The three hour tour didn’t work out so well for Gilligan.  The knowledge that we have the ability, mad though it may be, to simply pack up our shit and head home keeps our life in perspective.  We stay because we choose to stay and for no other reason than that.  Will it be 2 or will it be 5?  Who knows.  One thing in for certain though, I will make it off of the damned island before my show is cancelled.  And if for some reason the screenplay that is our life comes to an abrupt halt, I pray to God that it has a Scooby Doo ending.  That is about all I have for today and I apologize for the profusely nautical theme, it just worked out that way.  We will check back with you again soon.  Cheers.  Jacqueline Butler.