Today’s assignment is …. A photo of where you first fell in love with your loved one.

I know I haven’t been awesome with these assignments (I promise I’ll be better with the Photo classes I’m actually spending money on!), but today’s assignment was too good to pass up, and I’ll try to score extra credit with additional photos and a <very> expanded story.

Where I first fell in love was certainly… in France.


Jed and I went to college together, had friends in the same circles… but it wasn’t until several years after graduation that we started seeing each other regularly. It was the summer of 2004 – still the best summer I can remember — a carefree time filled with great friends that lived close by, nights spent walking down to local bars or throwing regular parties at our houses each weekend. We spent Saturday mornings playing soccer in a nearby field, on a team we collectively made (we played against ourselves -ha) and dubbed the “Thundercats.”

Jed and I were the only singles in our group – everyone else had paired off (all married, now!) – so it was some turn of fate that we ended up as the default ‘pair’ that summer. Things between us were friendly, flirty… and we started dating casually – knowing that inevitably things would end when he left for France in the Fall, where he was going to spend a school year teaching French students English.

July turned to August… August to September – and finally, it was time for him to leave. The plan was that we’d ‘break up’ — he’d be free to go to France unattached, and our Summer romance would be over. It was then that I realized, I didn’t want this to be over …  I was falling for this guy!

Looking back, what a crazy few months… it was a time when emotions ran high, my heart was constantly racing… and it seemed like everything was at stake. I didn’t know if we were together or apart… and we survived on phone calls, emails and text messages – all on the 6 hour time difference between us.

Knowing how quickly things can change, I made plans to come to France in December to visit, and promptly spent the next three months planning a fabulous trip. We’d spend a week in Feurs – the small town where Jed taught, and then we’d spend a week traveling to Germany and France for Christmas.  We’d fly to Munich and then take a train to Rotenburg – the famous walled village. We’d stay at a B&B and spend days walking the old city before traveling back to Lyon for Christmas Eve  … attending midnight service in a Cathedral, and staying in the ridiculously overpriced, but amazing Cour des Loges hotel. I’d fly out on Christmas Day.

It was here – France… that I first knew I loved him.  We traveled well together, things fell back into a normal routine, and everything just felt RIGHT and complete. I visited again in February –  this time seeing Paris, the Chateaus of the Loire, and Normandy. By May, when Jed came back home, he moved in and proposed 10 months later.  We had our wedding two days before  Christmas – a time that’s always been special to us.

So, there you have it…  “Where” has been such an important part of our love story and has formed and strengthened our relationship from the beginning. Our love of ‘place’ continues today, and is much of what this blog is about, even now in New England. We’ve traveled back to France twice since, and scheme constantly about when we can go back, where we’d go, or how to live there.  It’ll always be “our” love…