calanque & bilingual post, by Jean-Marc

Sea-urchins
Today's post is in French and English - and you can listen to it, too!

une calanque (kah-lahnk)

    : an inlet from the sea, a cove

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To give you an idea of what a calanque can look like... via Google images. Ever visited a calanque? Which one? Comments welcome here.

 Audio file: listen to today's word, as well as the following story... (see links, just below)


A Day in Chief Grape's New Life...

a wine-maker  takes a break from a pressing work schedule... to chill out by the sea
 

  =>Click the following link to hear Jean-Marc read his storyDownload mp3 or wave file

Hier, nous avons accueilli mon meilleur ami Frederic, parrain de Maxime, et dont je suis le parrain de son fils Matthieu. Dans la matinée et malgré des nuages, je suis allé pêcher quelques oursins pour l'apéritif. Ensuite j'ai fait un barbecue pour cuisiner des côtes de porc marinées avec quelques petits oignons ramassés de notre jardin et que Kristi avait coupé en morceaux. Ensuite, nous nous sommes régalés de toutes les salades du potager,  jeunes pousses que Kristi avait cueillies le matin même.

Yesterday, we welcomed my best friend Frederic, godfather of Maxime, and to whom I am godfather of his son, Matthieu. In the morning and despite the clouds, I went to hunt a few sea urchins for hors d'oeuvres. After, I started a barbecue to cook the marinated pork chops with a few small onions that Kristi had cut into pieces. Next, we enjoyed all of the garden salads, young leaves that Kristi had picked that same morning.
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Après ce délicieux repas et puisque le ciel s'était dégagé, nous avons décidé d'aller à la plage. Kristi et moi avions des sandales mais comme Maxime a décidé de nous amener dans une calanque isolée, avec une plage pleine de gros cailloux, il a fallu être adroit pour ne pas se tordre la cheville. Enfin arrivés, les garçons ont sauté du haut d'un rocher à 5 m de l'eau (et 12 m pour Maxime), dans une mer relativement mouvementée.

After this delicious meal, and because the sky had cleared, we decided to go to the beach. Kristi and I had on sandals but, as Maxime decided to take us to a remote cove, with a beach full of big rocks, we needed to be adept in order not to sprain our ankles. Once there, the boys jumped from high up on a rock, 5 meters above the water (and 12 meters for Maxime), into a sea that was relatively turbulent.

Matthieu

Au retour, Matthieu qui va avoir 10 ans la semaine prochaine, m'a demandé si je pouvais lui faire goûter mon vin. J'étais enchanté de cette demande venant de mon filleul et comme son Papa a acquiescé,  je lui ai servi quelques millilitres de notre cuvée Dentelle.  J'étais fier de voir qu'il semblait aimer ce vin qui représente tant pour moi.

On the way back, Matthieu, who will be 10 years old next week, asked me if I would offer him a taste of my wine. I was delighted by this request coming from my godson and as his father consented, I served him a few millimeters of our Dentelle vintage. I was proud to see that he seemed to like the wine which represents so much to me.
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La journée était déjà malheureusement finie et il était temps pour nos amis de rentrer. Moi, j'étais simplement heureux d'avoir passé une journée avec ma famille et mes bons amis.

The day was already, sadly, over and it was time for our friends to go back home. As for me, I was simply happy to have spent a day with my family and my good friends.

 

 

Random Archive Stories

Exquis means exquisite. Meet another friendly and caring villager in this story, which takes place in Valréas. Click here.

Aléa means risk, hazard, chance. One of these words describes our unique repurposed beehive mailbox... Story and pictures here. Missing that mailbox...

Do you have any story archive favorites? Please share them here, in the comments box

  IMG_8110

La nostalgie: Jackie was 9, and Max, 11... Six years ago on the Island of Groix.

 

  Calanque

 Remember this picture? Taken at a nearby calanque, the day we discovered the mas that would become our new home!

Thank you for the time you've spent reading my post. If you have learned more than a little vocabulary here and find yourself looking forward to the next story, please know that ongoing support from readers like you helps me continue doing what I love most: sharing these missives from France. Your support is vivement apprécié! Donating via PayPal is fast and easy when you use the links below. Merci infiniment! Kristi 
♥ Send $10    
  ♥ Send $25    
    ♥ Send the amount of your choice


"Sent with love and gratitude for all of your wonderful, insightful and creative stories and photographs. My life is enhanced reading your books and blogs beyond measure! May you continue to be blessed doing what you love and feel the gratitude of your devoted readers. Appreciation, hugs and love to you and your beautiful family!"
--Lisa


un filleul

Filleul
(photo of my husband, Jean-Marc, and his filleul, Matthieu)

Easy_speak_frenchEazyspeak French teaches 800 vocabulary words; quickly extends conversational skills

un filleul (fee-yul) noun, masculine
1. godson, godchild

Also:
filleule = goddaughter
filleul de guerre = adoptive son (in wartime)

Mon filleul va bientôt partir, ainsi la guerre va devenir plus personnelle pour moi. My godson is going over soon, so the war's about to get personal for me. --Garry Trudeau.

                                                                          Column_5
"I love Marseilles. When I was young, I loved to feel the Mistral wind blowing through me. I would stand still and just let it whip through my hair. I can no longer bear the Mistral. But I still love Marseilles." --Mme. Chollet

In the spice-scented salon* of the Chollet's home, I marvel at four generations of French women, one as beautiful as the next. The great-grandmother, with her dark chocolate brown hair and large clip-on earrings, recounted her passion for the windy city. Curiously, her lust for Massalia* skipped a generation, to her granddaughter. Her very own daughter (seated beside her, dressed all in black and looking very Cannoise*) prefers La Côte d'Azur, explaining, "Les Marseillais* are violent like the wind that blows through their city! The wind is mild in Cannes."

I sat facing my friend Corinne, her mother, and grandmother, thinking about how my feelings for a city that I once called home had changed. I didn't always like Marseilles. At one point I despised it. Returning now, as a visitor, I am enchanted by this historical town founded by the Greeks over 2600 years ago.

Earlier, as we motored through the 8th arrondissement, past the Bagatelle (where Jean-Marc and I were first married, but that is another story...) I found myself wondering how, newly arrived, I could not see the charm and beauty of this ancient city. Back then, Marseilles felt like a perpetual attack on this desert rat. (I would not recommend moving from warm, dry Phoenix to cold, windy Marseilles; Chicago to Marseilles, why not, but Phoenix/Marseilles--forget it!)

The cruel wind, the absence of a "user friendly" anything, the aggressive, unsympathetic government employees who threatened to deport me, and the lack of edible tortillas were just a few elements that wrecked havoc on the successful integration of this Phoenician, in a town founded by the Phocaeans.*

But now, 14 years later, I can't help but be caught up in the whirl of this action-packed, passionate, multi-ethnic ville.* Marseilles IS violent. Like its famous Mistral wind, it kicks, pushes, whirls, stomps, spits, and sometimes slams, daring you to cling right back to it, for the ride of your life.

My first child came into this world via Marseilles, kicking and screaming like the wind, which might explain his constant joie de vivre. (My daughter was born in Aix-en-Provence, and is reserved like the Aixois, or citizens of Aix.)

But, returning to our story, and to the Chollet's cozy salon, we were about to celebrate the birthday of a little guy who had just turned two. Matthieu, pronounced "ma-tyeuh," is my husband's filleul* (and the birthday boy in question).

Matthieu's mother, Corinne, had prepared five desserts for the celebration and, knowing what a good cook she is, I got in line illico* to sample the gateau au chocolat,* crumble au poires,* Madeleines, gateau au yaourt* and a brownie...or two.

Next we watched the birthday boy (dressed in a t-shirt that read "J'ai 2 ans!" I'm 2!) boogie and chanter.* And what did he sing? A song about St. Tropez! I take it that passion for Marseilles has just skipped another generation.

.................................................................................................................
References: le salon (m) = the living room; Massalia = Marseilles' original name; une Cannoise = a woman from Cannes; les Marseillais = the people of Marseilles; Phocaeans = inhabitants of an ancient district of central Greece; une ville (f) = a city; un filleul (m) = godson; illico = right away; gâteau au chocolat (m) = chocolate cake; crumble aux poires = pear crumble; gâteau au yaourt (m) = yogurt cake; chanter = to sing

Hear French spoken:
Listen to Jean-Marc recite today's quote: Download filleul2.wav
Mon filleul va bientôt partir, ainsi la guerre va devenir plus personnelle pour moi.

Thank you for the time you've spent reading my post. If you have learned more than a little vocabulary here and find yourself looking forward to the next story, please know that ongoing support from readers like you helps me continue doing what I love most: sharing these missives from France. Your support is vivement apprécié! Donating via PayPal is fast and easy when you use the links below. Merci infiniment! Kristi 
♥ Send $10    
  ♥ Send $25    
    ♥ Send the amount of your choice


"Sent with love and gratitude for all of your wonderful, insightful and creative stories and photographs. My life is enhanced reading your books and blogs beyond measure! May you continue to be blessed doing what you love and feel the gratitude of your devoted readers. Appreciation, hugs and love to you and your beautiful family!"
--Lisa