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Entries from November 2015

Faire de son mieux - to do one's best

James-blonde

France's own 007 and his sleek getaway car. Oh, if getting away from our villains were that easy! Read on....


TODAY'S WORD: faire de son mieux

    : to do one's best


ECOUTEZ/LISTEN hear Jean-Marc pronounce today's phrase 
Download MP3 or Download Wav file

Faire de son mieux. On peut toujours faire de son mieux.
To do one's best. One can always do his best.


Nov2014WHERE TO RENT IN FRANCE? Special thanks to our longtime sponsors--Marilyn, David, and Marianne--who have been a great support to my newsletter! See their French homes, click on their highlighted links, below:

  1. MAS DE PERDRIX. A home in France that artists and writers love to rent.  Work on your creative project in this inspiring environment.
  2. FRANCE & MONACO: - short-term holiday rental properties throughout France.
  3. SABLET HOME - for high quality vacation rentals in the heart of Provence.


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE
by Kristin Espinasse

Ma raison d'être?

In light of so much disheartening news, I keep asking myself the same question: what are we to do? What is, after all, something we can do? And, on a more personal level, what am I here to do?

To this last inquiry, I keep getting the same three-word response: do your best.

For the most part, this simple concept (one most have learned by the age of 7? 12?...) is helping. I have a clearer sense of direction and am more easily able to find peace. There are exceptions, as in right this moment--sitting here trying to find my words while being tortured to MADNESS by an unphilosophic fly!  

(Back now, after chasing la mouche around my bedroom - and failing to coax it out the window via a batting of expletives.)

Faire de son mieux. It is what I have done over and again this week, whether battling flies or resolving to go to tonight's 007 costume party. (All it took to motivate me was another simple question: what is the true purpose? To have an appropriate costume? Or to celebrate a friend's birthday--Yes-THAT IS IT!  I will now venture out of my comfort zone (a would-be cozy evening at home - loose pajamas, no makeup, no heels  and no small talk!) and focus on somebody else's happiness.

It could be argued that one's raîson d'être or "reason for being" involves much, much more than dressing up as James BLOND (that is the best I could come up with!) but I am taking each hurdle as it comes. And this little experiment seems to be working! Looking up, I see that two-bit fly is nowhere in sight - and I am now done with my short story offering for today!  Bon courage to you as you venture forth today and whatever it is you are facing...

Souvenez-vous de faire de votre mieux! Remember to just do your best.  

Amicalement,
Kristi


COMMENTS
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James-blond2
Faire de son mieux. In addition to doing one's best, we need to accept help, when needed, from others! Smokey, your glasses are on straight now. But the question remains: At tonight's theme party...will they know it is you -- and not me -- behind those sunglasses? Just kidding. I'll go. I'LL GO!

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A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Meme pas peur - the French phrase you've seen all over the media this week

Meme-pas-peur

Screenshot from the online magazine Elle.fr - sent to me by Antonia, who discovered the French Word-A-Day blog after googling the même pas peur expression.  

MEME PAS PEUR = NOT AFRAID
Recently, my word journal received a surge of activity after people all around the world began to google the French expression même pas peur. The popular French expression, featured here in January of 2013,  means You don't scare me at all!

You can learn more about the "Not afraid!" expression, and hear its pronunciation, here.

MEME PAS PEUR = YOU DON'T SCARE ME!
It is a fitting response to those who would try to manipulate our emotions. Perhaps the biggest thing we have to fear is fear's ability to alienate us from one another.  Let's promise to not let that happen. One way is to share our stories. Here is mine.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... 
by Kristin Espinasse

(The following was written in 2014. My mother-in-law has completely recovered.) 

Driving alone toward Marseilles, my pint-size Citroën was whipped to and fro by the Mistral wind. Passing a semi-truck was a chilling experience, but when cars swept by to my left, au même temps, I gripped the steering wheel in terror.

Wouldn't it be ironic to crash on the way to hospital? Just when I began picturing myself in bed beside my mother-in-law--sporting the same drip system as she--I shook my head, putting the brakes on an overactive imagination. I was not destined to be Michèle-France's hospital roommate. I was going to be her visitor!

Only, arriving at St. Joseph's réanimation wing, I learned visiting hours were over. In the salle d'attente, I waited to know whether hospital staff would make an exception. After all, I'd traveled far to get here--and even kept calm looking for parking when the hospital lot was complet!

Flipping through a fashion magazine, waiting for the staff's answer, a murmuring of Arabic tickled my ears. Two women seated en face were in a lively conversation. Every so often their sentences were peppered with French. 

The older woman wore a traditional dress and a head scarf and her daughter (?) faded jeans and dyed blond hair. She looked my age, le quarantaine. I set aside the magazine. Why look at models when you could admire the real thing? Authentic women! 

"You are mixing languages," I laughed, entering the conversation.

The blond smiled and her mom lit up. Thick gold fillings in Mom's teeth sparkled along with her smile.

"I do the same," I assured them. "Only in French and English--when I talk to my kids."

My waiting room friends giggled, and I thought to tell them about the wonderful movie I'd seen the night before: La Graine et le Mulet by Abdellatif Kechiche. Only I was quickly riddled with doubts. To  suddenly bring up an Algerian-Tunisian film... wasn't that, after all, assuming? Or dumb or ignorant or flippant? Along the lines of "Hey, I notice you're North African and I just saw a North African film!!!

Et alors? As if guessing or alluding to another's culture was a no-no. The tricks the mind plays on us to keep us silent and alienated one from the other! So what if I put my foot in my mouth? What was important was to reach out! 

"Where are you from?" I blurted, only to die a twelve-second death when the daughter hesitated.

(One-thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three....)

"Algeria."

"Oh, I hear Algeria is beautiful," I squeaked. 

One-thousand four, one thousand five... my new friend was looking at me silently. If she was seeing my thoughts, she was now picturing my great French aunt, who carried around a razor blade in her pocket! A war bride in Algeria, she was poised to slit her childrens' throats, then her own, rather than be killed by a native during la guerre d'indépendance Algérienne. It was a matter of dignity.

The shocking thought was but a flash, part of a great Kaleidescope of images that churn in my mind as it sifts life's experience. Here, now, with the bottle blond and the gold-toothed grandma, a new set of images swirled into the technicolor machine, a mind ever hungry for understanding.

Soon (back in the waiting room) a lively conversation began. As barriers quickly dropped talk turned sentimental. "I don't understand why we all can't get along," the bottle blond from Algeria said. Live and let live. We need only respect one another's religions.

Hallelujah! Inshallah! This was my kind of conversation: away with the small talk, get right down to matters of the heart. But just when we were getting to the soul of things, my telephone rang. It was my mother-in-law trying to talk me out of coming to the hospital.

"Too late," I said, "I'm here. Now if they'll only let me in to see you!"

When I hung up the phone, the women across the room were in an excited conversation as they turned to me. "But you should have told us your situation. Come!" said the younger woman, guiding me over to the door where a note was posted to the wall."

"You need to call this number and they will let you in!" she said. 

"But I've missed opening hours..."

"Tell them you've come from very far away!" And, with a smile and a wink, my new friend added, "Arizona, you said? Yes, tell them that!"

Our eyes embraced as we said goodbye to one another. We had so much in common, least of which our homelands in the desert.

 

COMMENTS
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Paris window (c) Kristin Espinasse

A picture (taken in Paris) that reminds me of my mother-in-law. I can almost see the stylish interior, inviting us inside for a taste of some delicious olive tapenade. Read a favorite story "Mal Barré" (Up The Creek) about my French mother-in-law. Click here.

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A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Impermeable + sang-froid in French

Jackies-trenchcoat
More behind the trenchcoat our daughter made, in today's story.

TODAY'S WORD : imperméable

    : raincoat

    : weatherproof, impervious (adj)

ECOUTEZ/LISTEN: hear Jean-Marc pronounce these French words:
MP3 file or Wav File

Imperméable. Nous sommes très fiers de Jackie pour la réalisation de son imperméable.
Raincoat. We are very proud of Jackie for completing her raincoat.


Nov2014WHERE TO RENT IN FRANCE? Special thanks to our longtime sponsors--Marilyn, David, and Marianne--who have been a great support to my newsletter! See their French homes, click on their highlighted links, below:

  1. MAS DE PERDRIX. A home in France that artists and writers love to rent.  Work on your creative project in this inspiring environment.
  2. FRANCE & MONACO: - short-term holiday rental properties throughout France.
  3. SABLET HOME - for high quality vacation rentals in the heart of Provence.



A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... 

by Kristin Espinasse

Weatherproof

"I don't know what to write about this morning," I said to Jean-Marc, who sat at the coffee table working on his computer. "Maybe YOU could write today's post--and talk about the mood here in France at the moment...."

"Laisse-moi réfléchir," Let me think about it,  Jean-Marc said, before answering, "Maybe it is time to tourner la page."

My husband was right. Each of us has shared, in his or her own way, a personal reaction to the Paris attack. November 13th, 2015 will forever be etched into our hearts. Now, the best we can do is to search for the unvanquished joy that still glimmers and sings all around us. And by singing, I'm referring to the toad that's taken up residence beneath our front porch. This week, as we quietly ate lunch beneath the still-shining sun, that bumbling, off-key crapaud piped up again and in so doing shook loose the sadness cloaking this countryside.

Just thinking about our loud-mouthed interloper makes me smile, and I can now summon a host of other hopeful images that have the same heart-strengthening effect. "Tu as raison," I said to Jean-Marc. "Maybe I could write about the trench coat that Jackie just made in design school! How do you say it in French? Le trench?"

"We don't say trench coat in French," Jean-Marc said.

His simple response absolutely crushed me. But the emotion-packed overreaction was swiftly replaced by a new determination: "Please tell me how to say trench coat in French! Google it... or find the Wikipedia definition.  Better yet, make a sound file, telling everyone how proud we are of our daughter for sewing a trench coat from scratch!" Having let go a barrage of orders, I waited for the answers, only to become doubtful that any of this would add up to a very meaningful offering in my French word journal.

Just then, Jean-Marc's first answer came: "Imperméable. On ne dit pas trenchcoat. On dit imperméable."

As my mind began to translate the word back into English --from trenchcoat to weatherproof--a new, symbolic meaning shined forth and, with it, the image of a protective shield.

A further translation might be via the term our French president uttered, in trembling speech, the day of the Paris attacks. In it, he saluted citizens for their sang-froid, or ability to remain calm in the face of terror. 

*    *    *

Examining every last detail of my daughter's "imperméable," I realize the sewing gene that she inherited from my Mom skipped a generation (which explains the crooked hem I put in a throw pillow recently). I am extremely proud of Jackie and the trench coat she worked to complete this week despite her own inquiétude. While her compatriots proclaimed "on n'a pas peur!", Jackie was sewing those very same words. At the very least it shows determination. But in this mother's eyes, her weatherproof coat is symbolic.  


COMMENTS
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Thank you for reading and sharing these posts. Wishing you a beautiful weekend. "With all its broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world." -Desiderata

Provence-tour
I leave you with a word from our good friends Lisa and Beth, who welcome you to join them in Provence each year. Experience Provence like a local on this unforgettable small group tour. Stroll the lavender fields, shop the farmers markets, enjoy private wine-tastings. Click here for more information.

 

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


A Short Letter from France

Eiffel-peace

Dear Friends,

Following the attack in Paris last night,  so many people are speechless. I don't know what to say,  either,  and so I will share a story and hope it comforts you as it did me.

Each of us will react in his or her own way in the face of terror. Don't let anybody tell you how you *should* feel. And be careful not to model your feelings after another's. Some of us are outraged. Others stunned. Still others are desensitized given so many years of sensational news headlines.  As a dear friend's mom used to say, "Feelings aren't right or wrong. They're there."

 There there. Take heart. Continue to share hope and comfort at every chance. With all its broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Amicalement,
Kristi

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE....

"The Morning After"

I was standing in Mr Bricolage,  looking at a display of window blinds,  when an old man walked past me only to stop in his tracks.  Turning, the stranger smiled and addressed me,  "Bonjour,  Dame Liberté!"

It took me a second to understand--to realize that--indeed!--what with the new table lamp I was holding out in my right hand, and the way I stood frozen before all the window treatments (and their corresponding measurements...but just how big was our kitchen window?),  I did look like the Statue of Liberty!

The Frenchman skipped off with a smile,  his door trim and his glue,  and I watched him gleefully - my heart suddenly swelling with a love for all humanity.

And for the first time since 9/11, I had the urge to reveal my roots. Despite the senseless attack on France,  and a mind still trying to process it all,  fear had instantly left me on hearing a Frenchman pronounce, with unbridled joy, the words "Dame Liberté."

"Oui,  Monsieur!"  I chirped,  "...et, en plus, JE SUIS AMERICAINE!"


*    *    *

COMMENTS
To leave a comment, click here.

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Armistice or Veterans Day & France's Wartime vegetable


Topinambours
In front of Smokey: just-harvested jerusalem artichokes. More about these meaningful root vegetables in today's story.

TODAY'S WORD: le topinambour

    : jerusalem artichoke, sunchoke

ECOUTER/LISTEN - hear Jean-Marc pronounce the example sentence, with topinambour, below: Download MP3 or Download Wav file

Sa diffusion en Europe se développe rapidement grâce à sa culture facile, sa rusticité et sa forte multiplication végétative, même dans des sols pauvres. Il est appelé poire de terre dans le Traité des aliments de Louis Lémery en 1723.  Lors de la Seconde Guerre mondiale, sa consommation en tant que légume de rationnement, souvent mal cuit et cuisiné sans matière grasse, a laissé dans certains pays d'Europe de mauvais souvenirs. En effet, le topinambour, tout comme le rutabaga (Brassica napus subsp. rapifera), a vu sa consommation augmenter, car il n'était pas, comme la pomme de terre, réquisitionné au titre des indemnités de guerre versées à l'Allemagne. -From French Wikipedia

Its spread in Europe developed quickly, thanks to its easiness to grow, its hardiness and its ability to populate, even in poor soil. It is called the "pear of the earth" in the Louis Lémery's Treatise of Foods in 1723. During the Second World War, its consumption as a rationing vegetable, often badly cooked and cooked without fats, left bad memories in certain European countries. In effect, the Jerusalem artichoke, like the rutabaga, saw its consumption augmenting, as it was not, like the potato, requisitionned by title of war indemnities paid to Germany.


Nov2014Mas de Perdrix. A home in France that artists and writers love to rent.  Work on your creative project in this inspiring environment.




A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE...


    by Kristin Espinasse

I was so disappointed to have missed the chance to honor veterans this year,  here in this French word journal. And then, by chance, I overheard a French woman say that Wednesday was férié! I checked my calendar and realized that le onze novembre had not yet passed--and it was indeed Remembrance Day!

Next, I went through my French vocabulary archives and, stumbling onto the word topinambour, reread the accompanying story.... But what does "jerusalem artichoke" have to do with Veterans Day, you may be wondering? I might have wondered the same, if I hadn't been sitting in our vineyard, last spring, listening to a planter tell of how this modest root vegetable helped save the French from wartime famine (read to the end of this story).

Then while admiring a pile of just-picked topinambours, it hit me the serendipity of it all. Those symbolic sunchokes were ready for harvesting on this sentimental day: Le Jour du Souvenir! And while I had picked those topinambours two days before, I will now mark my calendar to, dorénavant,  or from this day forward, on November 11th harvest this legume also known at le soleil vivace. Yes, this  "lively sun" - for the life these brave soldiers gave to everyone!


Share your thoughts on Veterans Day here in the comments box. I'm on my way outside now, to harvest more topinambours,  a little more mindfully than the last time.

COMMENTS
Click here to leave a comment.

FRENCH VOCABULARY
férié = holiday
le 11 novembre = l'Armistice, Armistic Day or le Jour du Souvenir

 

Kristin-Espinasse
Smokey and me, about to harvest more sunchokes. Share your Jerusalem artichoke recipes in the comments.  Photo by Tessa Baker

=> Check out Sablet home - for high quality vacation rentals in the heart of Provence.

Couche-du-soleil

While driving home with my daughter, we passed Sanary-sur-Mer, and this breathtaking sunset or couché du soleil. For more daily life photos (mostly of my French permaculture garden!) join me here at Instagram

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A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Lovers Quarrel and Accidental Revenge, in French

Olivetrees
Several olive trees have now been moved to make way for our 2016 vine planting. My husband and I don't agree on the uprooting of some of these trees, so this has been a rough week! How ironic to squabble over an olive tree when its very branches symbolize la paix. Read about prise de bec, in today's story column.

TODAY'S EXPRESSION: la vengeance est douce

    : revenge is sweet

ECOUTEZ/LISTEN
Hear Jean-Marc pronounce today's phrase. (Update: I have been working on these soundfiles. Let me know, in the comments box, if you still cannot hear the phrase when clicking on one of these: Download MP3 or Wav file


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE...
by Kristin Espinasse

"Monsieur Sticky Pits"

After Wednesday's lovers spat, when each of us had stormed off to a random boudoir (literally: a room where one boudes, or pouts), I realized my husband had scored by getting our spacious and cozy bedroom whilst I was left to sulk beside the bidet in the bathroom!  

There in my étroit chamber of self-righteousness, anger soon turned to ennui, and boredom, for me, often leads to an attack of the munchies. I remembered the fresh-baked French yogurt cake still cooling in the oven, and suddenly gluttony overcame pride. 

Only, what if Jean-Marc were to come out of hiding, too? How now to cross the war zone in dignity? Now that my stone face had turned into a dopey pie face I was losing credibility as Mrs Mad-at-You. Leave the room now and risk not being able to keep a straight face. More close to laughing, now, than to crying, all I wanted at this point was to let this whole thing blow over in time for cake! 

And yet, sitting there on the closed toilet seat, the hunger for righteousness was still slightly stronger than the hunger for gâteau, so I waited things out a while longer, amusing myself with a visual tour of our bathroom.

There was the fresh garden rosemary I had piled against the wall, to hide the unpainted pipes from our visitors. And there was the empty laundry basket (harrumph! look who is on top of the chores around here!). And there, on the edge of the sink, was my small can of hairspray. That's odd. Why was the hairspray out? I don't remember using it.... 

And then it dawned on me:  my husband had mistaken my hairspray for his aerosol deodorant.  Ah là là!  Revenge is sweet!
 


COMMENTS AND UPDATE
I mentioned the subject of our quarrel in the opening photo of this post. Update: Jean-Marc managed to keep most of the olive trees. We lost a few, but he did spare one - and had the giant tractor gently set the old tree in my permaculture garden! To comment on this post, click here.

FRENCH VOCABULARY
la paix = peace
la prise de bec = argument
le boudoir = woman's room, little office (also a "ladyfinger" or finger-shaped cookie)
le bidet = sink for washing your bottom
étroit = confined
l'ennui (m) = lack of interest, boredom
le gâteau = cake
Smokey-poser
 

A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
1.Zelle®, The best way to donate and there are no transaction fees. Zelle to [email protected]

2.Paypal or credit card
Or purchase my book for a friend and so help them discover this free weekly journal.
For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety


Immobilier, My Sister Heidi and Word of Mouth in French

Immobilier
Following his bike accident, Jean-Marc got his staples out Saturday and was out inspecting the fields around our home for our 2016 vine-planting. More photos you may have missed, at Instagram.

TODAY'S WORD: immobilier

    : property, real estate


ECOUTEZ/LISTEN - Hear Jean-Marc pronounce today's word and this example sentence. Download wav file or press the mp3 button:

Immobilier

My belle-soeur, Heidi, est une expert dans l'immobilier dans le  Colorado. Si vous avez besoin de ses services, n'hesitez pas à la contacter.
My sister-in-law, Heidi, is a realtor in Colorado. If need her help, don't hesitate to contact her. (See her email following today's column)


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE...
by Kristin Espinasse


My sister Heidi called the other day with a pertinent question. After reading about my recipe for parsley pesto, Heidi asked: "Why parsley? Why not basil?"

Mais bien sûr! What an obvious question, one that readers were sure to be wondering about: Mais pourquoi le persil? et non pas le basilic? Now's the chance to answer: because my garden is teeming with parsley! And second, because parsley pesto (or, more accurately la persillade) is absolutely delicious on everything - or simply eat it by the spoonful (like peanut butter. Miam-miam!)

But back to Heidi's call. This wouldn't be the first time my sister saved me from an oversight. There was that time I discovered The Eyebrow Pencil... and paraded around Scottsdale like Groucho Marx (in my mind I was Lauren Bacall...) until my sister saved me from the heavy-handedness.  

It may seem ironic that someone so clumsy with a brow pencil would go on to write for a living. (And, having written that smug sentence, it dawns on me this essay is about to trip over its own words - floundering from pesto to Groucho to je-ne-sais-quoi!! So please do like the citizen's of Scottsdale did--and ignore the big eyebrows as they walk on by! Yes, every so often a writer needs a reader who will look the other way....)

Psst! That's your clue to look over here as I return to the intended subject of this essay: my sister! After selling real estate in Arizona for many years, as a broker, Heidi is now focusing on Colorado immobilier. And she would really appreciate your help in order to find clients. So if you know anyone looking to buy or sell a home near Denver, would you please pass along her contact information, as seen below?

DE BOUCHE A L'OREILLE
You don't have to live in Denver to be of help. Most business contacts are the result of what the French call le bouche à l'oreille or word of mouth. So thank you very much for telling or emailing anyone you know about my sister the realtor in Denver! I leave you with this introduction, written by Heidi herself: 

HEIDI INGHAM STITELER
Heidi-reWorking as a licensed Real Estate Broker for over 20 years has provided me with valuable experience in all aspects of residential home sales, representing both buyers and sellers. In real estate, knowledge and experience matters.

Whether you’re looking to buy the perfect home to suit your individual needs or are interested in selling your home for the maximum return in the shortest time, I have the experience, market knowledge and dedication to help you achieve your goals.

At the end of the day, it’s relationships that matter most, and my greatest satisfaction comes from the successful client relationships I’ve made over the last two decades, as evidenced by my repeat and referral business. Loyalty and trust are the keys to my success.

Communities I Serve

Bonnie Brae (current resident), Cory Merrill, Belcaro, Washington Park, Platt Park, Observatory Park and Cherry Creek

Education

BS, Journalism/Marketing, Northern Arizona University
Licensed Real Estate Broker, State of Colorado
Licensed Real Estate Broker, State of Arizona

CONTACT INFORMATION

Heidi Ingham Stiteler
Broker Associate, Coldwell Banker Devonshire
200 Fillmore Street ~ Suite 300
Denver, CO  80206
Cell: 303.818.0609
[email protected]


 
Heidi immobilier

Heidi and family on vacation. Besides being a trusted and loyal realtor, my sister is so kind and a joy to be near! If you or someone you know is interested in buying or selling a home near Denver, contact Heidi at [email protected] 


A Message from KristiOngoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.

Ways to contribute:
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety