FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

There is no perfect Christmas. Not in France, not where you grew up, and not even at the North Pole. So relax and enjoy the season. Instead of a word, today's offering is a quote by French philosopher Jean Grenier:

"Il est aussi noble de tendre à l'équilibre qu'à la perfection ; car c'est une perfection que de garder l'équilibre"
"It is as noble to strive for balance as for perfection; for it is perfection to maintain balance."

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

If tradition is to put up le Sapin de Noël at the beginning of Advent, then I'm 8 days late this year. So when my son Max called, Monday, asking if I needed help, I eagerly accepted. "I'll be there in 20 minutes," said he. Good, I thought, Max can help with my least favorite part: assembling our artificial Christmas tree and carefully unfolding every metal branch.

With 20 minutes until my son's arrival, I hurried upstairs to try and do something with my hair. The last time Max dropped by I was wearing the same two-piece velvet set (a gift from Mom I've  taken off only to sleep) and my hair had not been washed in days. There is a verb for this behavior: se laisser aller: If there is one thing besides my husband that keeps me from completely letting go...it's my grown kids, especially my son.

Upstairs I tried pushing back my long, graying hair with the help of an odd pair of sunglasses from our "everything drawer". When this failed to spiff things up, I reasoned that though it was flat, it was clean! Rummaging through my trousse de toilette I found a perfume sampler, spritzed some on, and hurried down the stairs, a ribbon of Chanel No 5 in my wake. For someone who works from home this is my current definition of presentable, though it doesn’t hold a candle to my office-worker days when dressing for perfection was my whole life. (I like to think my life is more balanced now, even if that means a lot of bad hair days.)

Max still hadn't arrived so I tore open the old cardboard box and put together the Christmas tree myself. I took my time, hoping not to have to straighten all of those pesky branches alone. Forty minutes passed and still no show. Harrumph! I was almost done with the chore and beginning to feel that familiar foe: resentfulness. Looking around at all the opened storage boxes and the chaos of Christmas decorations, I grumbled: Who tossed those bulbs and lights in there like this? It's one tangled broken mess! Why am I always stuck with Christmas decorating?  Next year I'm going on a cruise—and getting far away from Christmas!

Whoah! Pausing to figure out where this grumpiness came from, I realized the morning was (so far) an all-work-no-breaks déséquilibre. Currently, at 11 am, I was caught in a tangle of ornaments and there was still laundry and lunch to prepare. The thought sent me spiraling farther down into the holiday hurricane. I knew that if my son walked through the door at that moment, he would meet the least best part of me: Mother Cranky.

I needed some ADR or Adult Time Out. I sat on our family couch, gazing at my sleeping dog. After several deep breaths and recalling all my blessings, I felt much better, ready to attack again (the tree and not my family). Just then, Max appeared with the biggest smile on his face and his signature big bear hug. "Hi Mom. Sorry I'm late. The neighbor needed help.”

"Was it the elderly couple on the ground floor of your apartment building?"

"No, it was the lady en face. She couldn't open her window. Another neighbor tells me she fell last week."

”Well, that was kind of you!” As we chatted beside the tree, I noticed how calmly Max began unraveling the rest of the tree’s branches. Next, he helped sort out all the Christmas paraphernalia into three piles: "à donner", “à garder”,  and “à jeter”. He even took the keepers outside to dust them off and set up the nativity scene, having found the santons.

We were ready to decorate the tree only the Christmas lights were nowhere to be found. “That's ok, Mom,” Max assured me.

“But the lights are the best part of the tree!” I insisted.

“Let’s keep going. We can use this string of lights, here...” Max said, rooting through the giveaway pile. With that, we carried on until the last ornaments were hung on our crooked little tree.

It wasn’t perfect with its scrawny string of lights, but our Christmas tree was sweetly ornamented. Infused with the stories we told each other as we decorated, of neighborly love, of family, and the affection and care of a son for his mother.//

COMMENTS
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Congratulations to our son, Max, who began a new job on Wednesday as sales manager at Château La Tour de L’Evêque. 🎉🎉 Picture taken after Grandma Jules sent him shopping for a few new costumes, or suits for work.

Max, chez lui (at his place). Thanks, Grandma Jules, for the beautiful suits! May he sell lots of wine from Château La Tour de L’Evêque.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to the French and English vocabulary

Le sapin de Noël = Christmas tree
se laisser  aller = to let oneself go
la trousse de toilette = makeup bag, toiletry bag 
le déséquilibre = imbalance
à donner = to give
à garder = to keep
à jeter = to toss, to throw away
le santon = traditional clay figurine from Provence
le costume = suit
en face = across the way

Congratulations to Jean-Marc and Max for finishing the Spartan Trail race in Morzine, the French Alps

Mom (a.k.a. Grandma Jules) and Ricci on a sunset walk this week.

REMERCIEMENTS - ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Mille mercis to readers sending in a blog donation for the first time, and to my returning patrons listed below. Your support keeps me going and I am truly grateful!

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 I so enjoy reading about your life. --Mary B. Washington, DC.

Hi, Kristi- I’ve been reading your newsletter for years and hope you have a merry holiday season! --Mary G

Merry Christmas to you and to your whole family!! Thank you for your loving sharing and encouragements to live day by day in Jesus. God bless you. Claudia P.

Max and Jackie trimming the Christmas tree years ago. "Croire" (to believe) is a Christmas story written when Jackie first questioned the existence of Le Père Noel. Click here to read this story from the archives.