FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Your book recommendation strikes home: In 1967 we stayed at a dude ranch in Wyoming, The Circle H Ranch, near Cody (named after Buffalo Bill Cody). The wrangler, Clifford Spencer, had been to France with the Buffalo Bill Travelling Circus (as described in the book you recommended today) and told us about that trip and the visit to the castle in Versailles where the entire cowboy "posse" walked through the halls, marvelling at the golden decor and splendiferous furniture. He gave me a brass knob he had unscrewed clandestinely from one of the fourposter beds and said he had felt ashamed ever since that he had stolen something unique to bring home to his wife.. and would we please bring it back to Versailles? Of course, we were happy to follow his wish and so one of the bed frame knobs in Versailles has a very secret story behind it.

Laura,
What a unique story!!!

Chère Marie-Françoise,
Tu as l'art de nous faire ressentir la nostalgie pour cette époque - un 'ancien temps' qui ne date même pas d'un demi siècle.

Ces scènes journalières et saisonnières sont tellement bien décrites que je m'imagine montant le long de ta rue étroite, respirant les odeurs d'oignon, d'ail, tomates et friture, enregistrant la voix des femmes, le ballet des casseroles et des plats, et puis, le silence de l'heure du repas, ponctué par le cliquetis des couteaux et fourchettes sur les assiettes!
J'irai avec plaisir faire un petit tour dans les jardins...

Les temps ont changé, mais à Châteauneuf-du-Pape, il y a encore quelques jardins, non? Les vieux jardiniers passent-ils leur savoir aux jeunes qui s'intéressent à la terre?
Mises à part d'excellentes recettes de cuisine que tu conserves précieusement et passera à la génération suivante, que reste-t-il de ce genre de vie aujourd'hui? Les gens ont-ils perdu le sens du partage, des échanges? …. de la bonhomie et serviabilité entre voisins?

Certes, une page est tournée ... Mille mercis pour ta façon de nous remémorer les points forts de 'la page précédente', et pour ta petite pointe malicieuse en finale (super 'pied de nez' aux OGM!). Tout ce que tu dis devrait nous aider à mieux apprécier et équilibrer nos 'valeurs & priorités' pour aller joyeusement de l'avant.

Merci encore pour cette riche évocation!

(I hope I don't butcher this nice story! What in the world is O.G.M.? I though perhaps MSG, but I found that translation easily enough)

"Noontime"

This rememberance goes back to when the quarter was one big family. No need for a safe key to lock out the night (and yet it happens that you forgot) or for a few day's travel.

At that time you could, a little before noon, help in the ballet of plates and casseroles.

When Mariette made eggplants with tomato sauce, she crossed the street to bring some to Lisette's place. If Lucienne made some of her famous deep fried zucchini flowers, there were enough for the neighbors. All the kitchens at the time faced onto the street, without vent hoods it was impossible to cook secretly - you could guess each one's menu - you could open ask for a recipe and the conversation would go like this:

"You start with garlic?"
"My grandma made..."

You needed a little flour! Tap on your the side door to get a little. Even, if some surprise you for your meal, you needed fear being short -- misery! -- of biscuits.

Some certain folks had outside of the village, between a couple of vines, little kitchen gardens and fruit trees. It was a reason for joyful distribution. Baskets of cherries were treats for the kids; the collection of tomatoes, an abundance that was shared together.

"Well, I'm going to stuff these big ones."
"I'm going to take you a few of the less ripe ones for salad"
"This year I'm going to succeed with my 'super purple' beans."

After these exchanges each went back to set the table. The street took back it's calm and became almost deserted while the ballet of forks was starting.

I inherited some recipes but I have not more garden vegetables but those looked after by my father in law, ripening quietly below the village then gathered and consumed the same day.

Nobody would have understood O.G.M. (?), on the contrary, you would say "Oh, I love it!".

Good morning Kristin (well morning in Canada anyway!),

I took a stab at translating the texts below, it looked like fun !

Sa bonhomie en faisait un compagnon agréable, malgré le fond de mélancolie neurasthénique que palliait la gaieté de son rire. -
Depending on the gender of the person the author is referring to :
Her/his good-naturedness was a pleasant compagnon, despite the neurotic melancoly that coloured the cheerfulness of his/her laugh.

Letters from my Terrace
by Marie-Françoise Vidal

''Noon-time''

This memory is from a time when the neighbourhood was a large family. There was no need to lock our doors at night (and often we forgot) or if we left for a few days.

During this period, when it was just before noon, we could often sit and watch the ballet of sauce pans and dishes.

When Mariette was preparing her eggplants with tomato sauce, she would cross the street to bring some to Lisette. If Lucienne had some of her famous zucchini flower fritters, she as well made enough for her neighbours. Anyway, the kitchens at the time faced out onto the street and were without a hood for the range, so it was difficult to hide was one was cooking. It was easy enough to guess the menus of each neighbour and the openness would turn into discussions about the recipes at hand:

"So you add the garlic first?"
"Well, my grand-mother did it like this..."

If you were missing a bit of flour, you simply had to knock on your neighbour's door for help. Therefore, if surprise guests stayed for dinner, you avoided the embarassment of being short on bread !

Some people had small vegetable gardens and fruit trees outside of town. These were times of happy sharing; children rejoiced at the baskets of cherries and the tomato harvest, which bore its fruit quickly and abundantly, was shared by all.

"Here, give those big ones to me, I'll stuff them!"
"I can take those less ripened ones off your hands, they're good for salad."
"This year's royal burgundy beans really turned out!".

Following these lively discussions, everyone went to each his and her respective homes for dinner. And the street would become quiet again, almost deserted, while the ballet of forks began.

I inherited a few of these recipes but I no longer have the garden vegetables that my father-in-law maintained, which quietly ripened at the foot of the village, to be harvested and enjoyed in the very same day...

Nobody would have understood the acronym O.G.M. at the time, but "delicious!" was always easy to the lips.

Ryan Catherine Breithaupt

Just a few comments...I translated/read the text pretty quickly and I read 'O.G.M.' as 'O.M.G.', as in OH MY GOD! Like the ''tweens'' like to text these days, haha...So I guess I misunderstood the French!
I would also like to edit my text as follows (just the occasionally visiting perfectionist in me):

Following these lively discussions, everyone would return to his and her respective homes for dinner. And the street would become quiet again, almost deserted, while the ballet of forks began.

Thanks Kristin, ciao !

Chere Marie-Francoise: Je crois que j'ai senti le parfum des nourritures dans les rues, la description etait tellement vivide. Alors, partagez avec nous certaines recettes qui sont faciles.

BTW, je ne peux pas traduire facilement alors je vais seulement lires les autres traductions et apprendre.

Bon weekend, et Mille Mercis

...translation of "Sa bonhomie en faisait un compagnon agréable, malgré le fond de mélancolie neurasthénique que palliait la gaieté de son rire."

His charm made him a pleasant companion, in spite of the depths of neurotic depression which dimmed the brightness of his laughter.

(This might also describe Baudelaire or Proust, would it not? OK - More Charles Baudelaire than Marcel Proust...)

Hi Leslie,
I just wanted to say that I think you are right about the comment regarding locking their doors only at night, now that I have re-read the French again...Also, I really like your suggestion for the OGM bit.

Pat, I live in a small town in North Carolina now and we never lock the doors!

Marie-Francoise, merci pour l'histoire, interessant & amusant.

Merci Tante Marie-Francoise: I'm going to take your story to Montreal later this year and share it with a retired linguist friend of mine. He's originally from Alexandria, Egypt, and he speaks ~5 languages (English, French, Italian, Greek, a little Arabic - plus some German).
I wish I had time to translate your whole letter right now (I will eventually), but I think the first paragraph means:
'This memory recalls the time when the whole neighbourhood was one big family. No need to lock the door, except at night (and sometimes that was forgotten), or when away for a few days.'
BTW, the official ambassador of festivities for the Quebec Winter Carnaval is Bonhomme. You'll see him at this link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quebec_City_Winter_Carnival

Some points:

1/ About the key in the second sentence: What Marie-Françoise says is that, in those days, there was:
“No need for a key / No need to have a key / a key was not necessary, (sauf pour) -> 'except to' lock the front door at night, (and even then, we sometimes forgot about it) or when we left the house for a few days”.

2/ “...... assister au ballet des casseroles et des plats”.
→ “assister” here doesn't mean to help, but to watch (as a spectator)
→ “casseroles” = saucepans, and “plats” = dishes

3/ beignets = fritters.
Beignets de fleurs de courgettes → Here is a link for Recipe with Video (voice not always clear, but there is a written text)
http://www.cookshow.com/recette-video/beignet-de-fleur-de-courgette-57
I wish I had some fresh "fleurs de courgettes" at my disposal!

4/ une hotte aspirante = an extractor hood (Great Britain). Is it a ventilator (US)?
5/ manquer de / être à court de = to be short of
6/ “on toquait à la porte d'à côté“
-> “on toquait” / “on frappait” = we would knock ('would', showing the habit)
-> à la porte d'à côté / à la porte à côté = at the next door neighbour's (house)

Sa bonhomie en faisait un compagnon agréable, malgré le fond de mélancolie neurasthénique que palliait la gaieté de son rire

His kind-heartedness made him a pleasant companion, despite his depressive character which overshadowed the happiness in his laugh.

Poor Paul Verlaine - the angry (orageux)poet. It brings back memories of French 'A' level and my passion, inspired by a wonderful french teacher, not only for the stormy poet, but for all things French. Inspiration enough to make France my home forthe last 12 years! Thank you for the links and the trip down memory lane!

Wow, what a quotation. Verlaine gives us in a sense a double negative (which is of course not as much of a problem in French but is usually eschewed in English). Something like, "his geniality made him a pleasant companion despite the deep melancholy that belied the cheerfulness of his laugh." Le tresor qui est la littérature française...

Que penser de ce billet qui ma litteralement scotchez ... royale ?