FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

A sunny view from the village of Auriol, where Jean-Marc and I had lunch Wednesday. In these southern French towns you'll hear a traditional Provençal end-of-the-year wish: Bon bout d'an!

TODAY'S WORD: Bon bout d'an!

    : Happy end of the year!

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO FILE
Listen to all the French words in today's story via the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section and check your comprehension.

Click here for the sound file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Our family had a cozy, casual get-together here at noon on December 25th. After delegating all the cooking (l'entrée, le plat principal, et le dessert) I found time to attend church Christmas morning. But on my leisurely way out of l'église I was caught in my sneaky tracks. "Linger a little bit longer..." my friend Enzo said, "and all the work will be done before you arrive home!"

Haha! Enzo was reading my mind!

One thing my mid-fifties are teaching me is the ability to "assumer" or "s'assumer" (to accept and stand by my choices) and to laugh at myself. Having cleaned the house, set the table, and paid for the groceries, I felt no guilt in assigning the holiday cooking to my adult children. And by the time I finally returned from church, warmth and deliciousness filled the air. Our son Max had collected the 3-kilo chapon from the butcher and stuffed it with une farce. He instructed his sister, Jackie, to baste the bird every half hour, which she did in between reheating the tarte tomate she'd made for appetizers (to go along with the foie gras toasts we assembled on my return).

If Max was absent for the bird's basting, that's because he was doing some delegating of his own: he had his aunt Cécile and Uncle Jacques arrive several hours early, to his own apartment, to help put up shelves in his kitchen. Il es malin lui, comme sa maman! He's clever that one, like his mom!

Now the trio was arriving and between the hugs and kisses and oh que ça sent bon!, Cécile noticed Jackie basting the large bird.

"C'est un chaperon," Jackie explained.
"On mange un chaperon?" Cécile questioned.
"Oui," my daughter affirmed. "Un chaperon."
Cécile suddenly smiled in comprehension. "Non, ceci c'est un chapon. Un chaperon, c'est quelqu'un qui surveille un jeune couple amoureux. "No, this is a capon. A chaperon is someone who supervises young lovers."
"Oh!" Jackie laughed.

(Later, while typing this post, I would chuckle at the English definition of chaperon(e): a young woman's moral guardian. Come to think of it, humanity needs a moral guardian--24/24. None of us knows just how far we are from the next moral slip-up. We are, after all, only human.)
 
As sheepish as I felt sticking my family with the holiday cooking, it was worth it to overhear this funny conversation between aunt and niece. To think if I'd lingered any longer at church, I might've missed it, and so would have you!

Well, bon bout d'an! Happy End of the Year to the loveliest readers anyone could wish for. Thank you for tuning in each week and giving me a reason to show up and write. Merci, merci! 

Amicalement,

Kristi
P.S. I leave you with a letter I received from my daughter last week. 

FRENCH VOCABULARY
Bon bout d'an = Happy end of the year!
l'entrée (f) = first course
le plat pricipal = main course
le dessert = dessert
s'assumer = to take responsibility for yourself
le chapon = capon (bird)
le chaperon = chaperone
la farce = stuffing
Il est malin lui, comme sa maman! = He's clever that one, like his mom!
oh que ça sent bon! = oh that's smells good!


My belle-soeur's starter was plate-licking good. Shrimp from Madagascar, sliced avocado, grapefruit, and coeurs de palmiers (hearts of palm). The secret sauce included raw egg and a special citrus fruit (a green combava, or kaffir lime?)

Sweet of the Week, No. 4: "Le Macaron." Max's sweetheart, Ana, made these mouth-watering salted caramel and chocolate macaroons for our collective holiday sweet tooth (do the French still use the term "bec sucré" for sweet tooth?) Having seen this popular cookie displayed in fancily wrapped boxes at high-end bakeries, I am amazed by those who make them at home. Bravo, Ana! 

Jean-Marc, right, and friends at one of the wine shop's events. Read on for some big news regarding my husband.

TODAY'S PHRASE: "se lancer dans l'inconnu"

    : to strike out into the unknown

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO FILE
Listen to all the French words in today's story by clicking on the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section and check your comprehension.

Click now to hear the audio

Se lancer dans l'inconnu, c'est un heureux cocktail d'enthousiasme, d'inconfort, de peur, de fierté. On est déstabilisé, parce que nos repères changent. Il y a cette forte sensation que tout peut arriver. To strike out into the unknown is a happy cocktail of enthusiasm, discomfort, fear and pride. We are destabilized because our reference points change. There is this strong feeling that anything can happen.
-from the blog Ouvrir Une Porte

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

A New Chapter in Chief Grape's Life

I have just returned from another stick hunt and boy did I hit the foraging jackpot today! C'est dommage Jean-Marc was not able to join in on the fun. He had to leave early for work and miss our morning stroll.

Raindrops began falling as I arranged all the wooden bâtons on our steps for drying. I quickly snapped a picture to cheer my husband. He is not as sparked as I am for each found stick, but that's because joy hasn't come easy for him this past year. Still, he is happy when I am happy and these days we are shooting for each other's happiness. A target worth aiming for wouldn't you say? If only we had fully comprehended The Happiness Secret sooner. Tant pis...

It is never too late to be what you might have been.  
Il n'est jamais trop tard pour devenir ce que nous aurions pu être.

Thank you, George Eliot, for that hopeful thought. I will share it with my husband on this, the eve of a major change in his life. And now, sans plus attendre, some big news: Jean-Marc has sold his wine shop! The complicated transaction has kept him suspended in a Never-Never land for 9 months. But now he's been delivered, or almost. (His last day at the shop is January 5th.)

So the start of the New Year corresponds to a new chapter in our lives. While Jean-Marc is itching to move somewhere, anywhere, I am digging my feet in this time. But I will try to keep open-hearted, about further changes, as he strikes out into the unknown unsure of what's next. 

Se lancer dans l'inconnu...
And now a question for you, dear reader. Did you strike out into the unknown later in life? Will you share, in the comments here, the positive changes that happened to you during/after a middle-age crisis? Did you switch careers? Move out of the country? Learn a new skill?

Did you live the truth in George Eliot's words, It is never too late to be what you might have been? Or did you discover that who you might have been was there all along?

As we pause to think about who we are becoming, I'll bid you good day. Madame Who I Might Have Been is itching to go outside and enjoy another exploratory ramble through the neighborhood. Instead of sticks, I could switch it up...and collect smiles this time (my mom's favorite sport: "Smile and see who smiles back at you!"). Ah, evolution!

Amicalement, 
Kristi

Don't miss the book A Very French Christmas, "this collection encapsulates the holiday spirit and proves that the French have mastered Christmas."

FRENCH VOCABULARY
se lancer dans l'inconnu = to strike out into the unknown
c'est dommage = it's too bad
le bâton = stick
tant pis! = never mind
sans plus attendre = without further delay
Il n'est jamais trop tard pour devenir ce que nous aurions pu être = It is never too late to be what you might have been.

Read about the opening of Jean-Marc's wine shop. Click below.




Sweet of the Week, No 3: French Yogurt Cake. Need an easy cake for Christmas? Simply spruce up this simple French yogurt cake! Add cranberries and pecans to the mix or candied orange and chocolate. This dessert became our go-to gâteau the day my brother-in-law, Jacques, made it for one of our family gatherings.  Yogurt Cake Recipe here. Enjoy and un Joyeux Noël to all!

Our town's tourist bureau produces a delightful series of travel posters. Here’s one for Christmas, spotted while Jackie and I enjoyed an evening stroll by the port. Notice the traditional wooden boat, or “pointu.”

TODAY’S WORD: la bouillotte  

  : hot water bottle

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO:
Avec le froid, la hausse du coût de l’énergie et la menace de coupures d’électricité,les gens s’équipent. La bouillotte revient à la mode. With the cold weather, the rising cost of energy and the threat of power cuts, people are getting equipped. The hot water bottle is back in fashion. -OuestFrance.fr

Click here to listen to the example sentence + all the French in today’s story

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

It's mid-December and with ice forming on the car's pare-brise and condensation dripping down our upstairs windows it’s been tricky keeping warm—even in the south of France. My husband and I have quit wrestling over the thermostat and come to a compromise: I'll keep the indoor temps a toasty 22C (71.6F)--and he can shut off the heat at bedtime...which makes for an icy visit to le petit coin in the middle of the night. As for Grandma Jules, we’ll turn a blind eye to her temperature-dial-doings in her studio around the side of our house. But even Jules's cranked-out space heater has its limits. Heureusement, Mom's new old cat has become more than good company these days: Lili is a good leg-warmer!

The term sobriété énergétique* seems to be a buzz-word in French politics lately. Citizens are incited to keep household temperatures no higher than 19C (66F). But even with extra layers of clothing and a wool cap and gloves (Grandma's tip) this eco-friendly environment feels hostile to me and my daughter. Is it true women suffer the cold more than men?

While collecting wood and making fires in la cheminée is one way to generate heat in winter, for a few years now I’ve relied on a good old-fashioned bouillotte to keep me warm in bed. Winter in our 1960s villa means the upstairs is Siberia while downstairs is Les Tropiques. This poses a dilemma when I go upstairs to the North Pole to read peacefully in bed while my husband stays by the fire, watching soccer in our sizzling salon. (BTW it's France vs. Morocco in tonight's World Cup semi-final. Things are really going to heat up...) As soon as I open the door to our stairwell, the frigid air makes me shiver. Sometimes I can see my own breath!

We do keep our upstairs bedroom "heated" (the quotes refer to our inefficient radiator on the wall. I do feel its warmth when I place my hand upon it, each time I enter the tiny room). Thankfully I have my hot water bottle ready to glisse beneath the sheets.

My trusty chaufferette was a gift from Max, and I love the extra-long version. It warms the length of my back and its non-scratchy housse is soft to the touch. The heavy, two-liter model is tricky to fill up but I have a system that works well: I fill half the bottle at the steaming kitchen tap and top it off with a kettle of near-boiling water. Occasionally I get burned (last night I lost my grip when the boiling water seared my skin as I filled the bottle. You should've seen me dancing to the tune of Ne lâche pas la bouteille! Don't drop the bottle! ) 

While la bouillotte has its hazards, it won't keep me from sleeping beside boiled water in cold winter. C'est douillet! They say hot water is a healthier source of heat (vs. electric heat, i.e. the electric blanket). A hot water bottle's chaleur lasts well into the night. Or long enough to temper the freezing in-between time after which you'll find me hurrying downstairs to switch back on our thermostat, before returning to bed with a hot cuppa. Ah, coffee, that marvelous inner-bouillotte that heats you through and through. Yet one more way to warm up this winter.

Restez au chaud et à bientôt,

Kristi

FRENCH VOCABULARY
le pare-brise = windshield, windscreen
le petit coin = toilet, bathroom, loo
heureusement = thankfully
la cheminée = fireplace
la bouillotte = hot water bottle
le salon = living room
glisse (glisser) = to slip
la chaufferette = heater, a small heating device
la housse = cover
Ne lâche pas la bouteille! = Don't let go of the bottle!
C'est douillet = It's cozy
Restez au chaud et à bientôt = stay warm and "see you" soon

*La sobriété énergétique. Energy sobriety is the reduction of energy consumption through lifestyle changes and social transformations.

Portrait of my husband. When Mom suddenly asked Jean-Marc to pose for a photo, he went with the moment. Here he is posing beside a small collection of found kindling, including sticks, pine cones, and some trusty cardboard. Wishing all of you a lovely rest of the week, and remember to go with the moment (where joy often hides).

Sweet of the Week, No. 2: Îles Flottantes. One of Max's Floating Islands (little meringue "islands" floating on crème anglaise... also known as Œufs à la Neige "Snow Eggs"). Max made this one with the sugar sprinkles when he was 15, after being an apprentice at a restaurant in Orange. (Twelve years later he followed his flair for flavor to the wine business.) Have you ever tried Îles flottantes? What is your favorite French dessert? Share with us in the comments.

Wooden boats all dressed up for the holidays. More about le bois in today's story. Enjoy French delicacies? Don't miss the sweet column at the end of the edition. If today's word is too easy for you, find some more advanced terms in the story below. 

TODAY'S WORD: le bois

    : wood

AUDIO: Listen to all the French words in today's story by clicking on the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section and check your comprehension.

Sound file for the French words

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

If it's wintertime where you live and you have a wood-burning stove or fireplace, maybe you have discovered the joy of collecting sticks? I talked last week about our morning promenades, and today I'll share one of the multi-purpose benefits of la marche--because besides being good for the mind and body walking is good for treasure-hunting. More about that in a minute. First, some history for the wood-related term "stere," from Wikipedia:

"The name was coined from the Greek stereós, "solid", in 1795 in France as a metric analogue to the cord. The unit was introduced to remove regional disparities of this former unit, for which the length could vary greatly from 6 to 13.5 m. It is not part of the modern metric system and is no longer a legal unit in France, but remains used in the commerce of firewood."

En hiver, a stère of wood is a treasure, especially when you have gone to collect the logs and stack them yourself. Jean-Marc drove to Aubagne recently, to a wood yard, where the two of us filled the back of our jeep with logs. It was amusing driving up onto the vehicle-size scale to weigh our car and then weigh it again after we filled it with le bois. I wish I'd brought gloves for protection, but we managed to pile a bunch of le chêne into our bagnole. After driving back onto the scale to weigh our load, a giant digital screen registered 190 kilos. The next step was to park in front of a trailer (inside of which a secretary was tallying up our purchase). The total price? 50 euros.

Returning home to stack les bûches beside our front door, I was surprised at how little 190 kilos amounted to once we stood back to admire our (short) wood stack! Ah well. The upside about helping my husband with the firewood--and learning to build a fire--is how it has opened my eyes to all the wood treasures out there. I can hardly wait to get out of bed each morning and take off in search of sticks!

It is amazing how much kindling can be found in our neighborhood here in town. This isn't the woody countryside. And yet, each morning I'm delighted to find small branches and hearty twigs here and there along le trottoir. It must be the wind blowing everything around at night. Trees lose their flimsy limbs, delivery trucks leave behind morcels of crates (or entire cageots), and beautiful pine cones salt and pepper the ground all around! 

In the beginning, before wood-collecting became our winter sport (it involves lots of lunging and bending), Jean-Marc and I would return home with a few sticks each, but as our outings continued, so did my appetite for kindling. Now we carry a bag (Jules' suggestion) and often manage to fill it.

Jean-Marc doesn't have the same enthusiasm for our firewood findings. He won't shout "LOOK AT THIS ONE!!” each time a thick stick is discovered. But he is a willing and faithful accomplice. (And just this morning he did finally shout “LOOK AT THIS ONE!!” if only to humor me. Or maybe he is finally feeling the joy in it? In nature's equivalent of dumpster diving!) 

Across the street from where the trucks deliver to the local eateries, there's the beach--another good place to treasure hunt. I have had my eye on an 8ft long log that washed up to shore a month ago. But pride keeps me from waking my husband and stealing out into the night with a giant saw. What if someone noticed us? Besides, there must be laws against collecting wood in certain areas. But picking up smaller pieces of driftwood seems to be ok....

When I feel self-conscious about how the two of us look walking home with armloads of sticks each day, I make a joke of it: "Our neighbors are going to start referring to us as Monsieur et Madame Bois or Monsieur et Madame Bâton..." Thankfully the older you get the less you care! How do you say that in French? Because I'm going to carve it on one of my bâtons!


Madame Bâton. The bag is practical (and helps with discretion).

When we return from our walk, I like to set all the wood along the stone stairs, where the sun helps to bake them dry. Stepping back to admire the short and tall bâtons, I see more than a lineup of sticks: I see so many funny characters.  

Free tinder or kindling in the city does have its downside (if some of you are smiling now, you have already figured out what took me weeks to understand: we have lots of dogs in town, and they only have one place to pee—on the ground, near...or on...these wood treasures). But even that won't stop me from picking up sticks. I'm too obsessed. (Lately, I wear gloves, when I remember to bring them.) More than an obsession, I like to think that, like the resourceful ant, we are building, day by day, a useful reserve for our family. And sitting here typing this story next to the fire, in a warm room, feels cozy and good!

*    *    *
P.S.: To be clear, none of the sticks I've picked up are smelly. No good dog would pee on a stick (would it?). Sticks are for tossing and chasing! And sticks are for hunting and heating. Tell me, what do you do with your picked-up sticks? Do you make art with driftwood? Let us know in the comments.


Smokey, and his stick of the day. Dog heaven must be teeming with sticks.


Sticks and wood collected on the beach--there's even a half-burnt log (score!), and a lot of driftwood.


This wild, woody pile was a gift from our son Max. Can you guess what it is? Hint: it comes from a vineyard and is excellent firewood for the BBQ. Answer: These are "les sarments" or woody vine shoots. Skip to the photo below for a French dessert or sweet of the same name....

FRENCH VOCABULARY

la marche = walking
un stère = stere of wood
en hiver = in winter
le chêne = oak
le bois = wood
la bagnole = (slang) car
une bûche = log
le trottoir = sidewalk
le cageot = crate
le bâton = stick
le sarment = vine shoot
la friandise = candy, sweet


Sweet of the Week, No. 1: Les Sarments. (Popularly known as "orangettes.") These chocolate orange “shoots” (sarments = that part of the grapevine that is pruned in winter) are made up of a piece of candied orange peel and dark chocolate.


This time of year you’ll see these candies drying behind the counter of our local pâtisserie, where my son Max picked up a few hundred grams of the delicacy for a recent Sunday lunch.

Sarments are a Christmas specialty and a favorite friandise to savor with coffee or tea. To be extra decadent have them with hot chocolate.

Sunset over the shipyard in La Ciotat, and a parasol pine tree about to release more cones. May you find many treasures in your day. See you next week and thank you for reading.