FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

 

Paused there at my front gate making sure the coast was clear, I had not imagined running into Mom's friend, who lived in a condo across the street. A week-old swordfish hidden in a sack behind my back, the idea was to avoid seeing anybody as I hurried over to the municipal garbage can to pitch the leftovers rotting in our frigo. Heaven forbid anyone would witness my stinky délit mineur (was it legal to use the public poubelle for one's private waste management? It's tricky to keep up with the garbage when the truck's already passed and you've missed the latest pick-up!).

 

There was no way this stinky espadon was going to sit 3 days in the back yard trash can. Recently I had come up with another option when things in our fridge perished: la poubelle municipale ! Intended for the plastic cups, cigarette packages, beer bottles and icecream wrappers the tourists sometimes tossed over our fence on their way back from the beach, this handy poubelle de rue is emptied daily. Surely I could use it for a fishy emergency?... Little did I know the Universe had an emergency of its own: to unite a couple of estranged voisines.... 

 

***
To be continued.... Sorry to have to cut the story in two. To make up for it, I've packed extra vocabulary in the first three paragraphs :-) 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

le malentendu = misunderstanding
le frigo = fridge
le délit mineur = misdemeanor 
la poubelle = garbage
l'espadon (m) = swordfish

le voisin, la voisine = neighbor


We received some encouraging feedback on Chapter 6 of the vineyard memoir Jean-Marc and I are writing together. I leave you with readers comments as well as another excerpt from The Lost Gardens. 

[A] heart-wrenching telling of a trying period. So vividly told. I remember reading the "same" stories while you were living them, and you were similarly adept at making the period sound stressful but ultimately rewarding... --Janet

Your raw, honest account of how you really felt at this time is stunning. And your sincerity is overwhelming. This story from you and Jean-Marc , written individually in your own words, is brilliant. Looking forward to future chapters. Bravo! --Chris

CHAPTER 6 (excerpt from The Lost Gardens)

On top of our bickering about all the little details of the harvest, Jean-Marc wasn’t himself lately. As he set out in every direction to bring this whole wine project together, he was losing a lot of weight. And he was constantly on the phone. I knew he was updating friends on his various exploits at his new vineyard, as well as ringing up suppliers--whether for extra harvest buckets or to locate a needed part for the tractor he'd just learned to operate. But were all of the calls to professionals? I began to wonder. What if there was another woman? As silly as that would seem when we were alone out here among fields of grapes, it would explain my husband's unusual behavior--especially the disconnection I had felt from him lately....