FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

I guess it was a foggy view but the sun came out with Smokey's presence.

I love the photo, looks so serene. I do have one question though. You keep showing photos of the "old" place yet I long to see your new home. Why is that?

I remember the chair in tall grass photo-inviting. Thanks for the stroll down memory lane.

Hi Kristin,
Love the foggy photo and the contrasting green grass! I'm looking forward to seeing some green grass soon! Only 19 more days until spring!!
Have a beautiful weekend!!

Most of all, I love your writing but your photos come in a very close second. I,too,recall these photos and think they are some of your best. Smokey's pale fur blends in with the grasses which have gone to seed allowing you to be almost hidden away while resting in the bamboo chair....Smokey's head on your lap. Lovely memories. Mille mercis et bon week-end.

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is why French doggies have to "go" on the sidewalk ... :-)

Almost 30 years ago I was visiting my friend Joel where he was a prof at the Université de Montréal. At the time, I had a cocker spaniel puppy named "Bissi." I took her on a walk into a nearby park that had beautiful grass, and we got kicked out with the explanation, "Les chiens sont inderdit au parc, monsieur." And it wasn't even France!

Bisous, Kristi

A French friend and I were visiting the Père LaChaise cemetery once, and we sat down in the grass to enjoy the sun and the peace and quiet. Of course, we were asked to move. My friend tried to explain that it was "a place of rest" but the police would hear none of it!

We lived in a rented house in Dijon, and the landlord had updated it prior to our move-in, including re-grading and re-planting the lawn, which by the time I got there was grown some but filled with prickly weeds. I hadn't brought my dandelion puller so I substituted a screwdriver, and that's how I met my neighbors, as La Folle Americaine is out there on her knees, taking pissenlit out with a tournevis. Later in December I'm sure they were equally impressed to see me out shoveling the walk with a dustpan (pelle à poussière?). It probably confirmed their opinion. They were however very gracious and very patient with my feeble French, and I learned a lot.

Most of the park signs in Paris state “Pelouse Interdit” – grass (lawn) forbidden -- rather than using the word 'gazon.'

Thanks Kristin, and I meant to add a PS - we are from Aotearoa New Zealand where grass is fair play and the very few "Keep off the grass" signs are disdainfully ignore - with the attitude that isn't the purpose of grass to be walked on, played on, picniced on etc?

Our dear Kristi,
What gorgeous pictures!!
You so captured that special place in memory and took us there with you to enjoy all over again. After reading about Jean Marc's dilligent hard work (with the help and support of his family!), I have new respect for what is inside those bottles of wine (and not just the names and labels on the outside!)I love to cook and your beautiful kitchen just totally captured my imagination!!
THANK YOU for starting the weekend off in such a wonderful way!
Love, Natalia XO

The picture of the foggy vinyard just took my breath away. Gorgeous! My only French grass story is being surprised to see students ALL OVER the grass at Luxembourg Gardens in Paris. I just shook my head, and thought, "what were all those warnings about keeping off the grass about?"

I believe a visit to Paris is incomplete without a stroll through Le Jardin du Luxembourg. One fine afternoon, a couple of friends and I ventured directly onto the sprawling lawns of the Jardin to spend a few hours in the sparkling sun, as we would have in India. Within 5 minutes of our contented laying, the policier arrived with his baton. He could see we were foreigners and explained to us that the lawn was out-of-bounds. Now, our experience had told us the French are nicer to those who speak their tongue. So we immediately started speaking to him in French and apologized, informing him that we didn't know about the rule. He was taken aback, especially when we shook our heads when he asked us if we were French. He listened to the story about how 2 Indians and a Brazilian happened to be in the Jardin and speak deceptively good French. When we saw him walk across the park towards us, we were afraid he would charge a fine or throw us out. Instead, he smiled at us and waved a friendly goodbye! We then walked away with inflated egos, chattering about how authentically French we sound!It's a story we still proudly relate to our friends and family as one of our adventures in France!

I must admit I was confused when I first visited Collioure, France, and discovered that walking on the grass was "interdit!" but nearby topless bathing was OK! Perhaps nudity is more natural than a lawn.