FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Colorful buildings along the port of Cassis. Also, below, in the first six lines below, I am trying a new format for the word of the day. How do you like it? Do you have other suggestions for this weekly journal. Thanks for letting me know in the comments box.

TODAY'S WORD: Laquelle, Lequel

Pronunciation: [la-kell, le-kell]
Meaning: Which one? 

Example Sentence:
Je ne sais pas laquelle choisir.
(I don’t know which one to choose.)

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Laquelle? That is the question of the day! With so many things happening each week, picking just one incident to write about can be a real casse-tête.

Should I title this one Grand-mère Chérie and talk about the blessings of our aînés? Especially the French grandmother who warmed to Ricci and me while we were shopping for greens. Entering the maraîcher’s, the only other client in the tiny shop approached. “What a lovely dog!” she began. By the time our conversation was over, I knew exactly which champignons to buy (not those from Haute-Savoie—too gorged with liquid—wait another week, and the local chanterelles will be in stock). “Do you like Nougat?” my new friend continued. “They make it just over the hill from Ceyreste—in Signes...” And there I thought nougat was from Montélimar, only, and that signes was French for monkey (just kidding—that would be singes).

Putting geography and nougat aside for a moment (that last one will take willpower, n'est-ce pas?)... and back to our embarras de choix: I could write instead about Jean-Marc's latest Provence Wine Tour. What a treat to meet Donna, Jim, and Nancy over coffee at Le Rose Thé hotel here in La Ciotat. “We feel like we know you,” Donna shared, having read this blog for years. The feeling was mutual. Whether it was l'alchimie or sudden camaraderie, this encounter felt like reconnecting with old friends. After coffee, Donna’s husband, Jim, agreed to drive us to the world-renowned Château de Pibarnon, in the verdant hills above Bandol, then onto Cassis, to Domaine du Paternel. From Bandol’s hilltops to Cassis’ cliffs (falaises) and the hairpin turns in between, we were glad Jim was behind the wheel. Jean-Marc, our copilot, filled us in on the sights, adding a little history along the way.  It felt good to get our feet back on solid ground as we strolled through colorful Cassis after lunch on the port at Le Bar de La Marine. But not for long, we lifted off, once again, to reach the heights of La Route des Crêtes, where behind us the valley was carpeted with purple heather, and before us, a long way down the cliff, the turquoise blue sea spread out to infinity. I could go on about our picturesque périple, but back to our story-choice dilemma…

Maybe you’re curious to read about the monumental tongue-lashing Ricci and I received while sneaking across the beach, and the ice queen out at sea, hollering at me. During the off-season, their backyard having been battered all summer by tourists, the locals wander out to the empty beaches, often with their dogs. What a pleasure to see all the neighborhood chiens, bouncing and rollicking among the rocks and sand.

Normally, groups of people walk in the cold, shallow waters each morning, even in late fall. It is invigorating, wonderful exercise—and mood-lifting. But not for all….

"Get your dog off this beach!” The goggle-eyed woman thundered, stomping through the water. “It's disgusting. All the crap they leave is full of disease. Allez! Va-t-en! Get out of here!” I don’t know what crap she is referring to as I have rarely seen it on the beach (though there is plenty of  human generated litter…).

"Come on, Ricci!" I tugged at the leash, where a half dozen neon-pink doggie waste bags were tied at the ready (offered by the city—the pink is for Octobre Rose, breast cancer month). In addition to picking up after our dogs, we often pick up litter, giving those free bags extra duty.

During the woman’s tirade, Ricci dug her feet in, intent to do her business then and there…  Oh no! Not here! Just when I began sweating it—the fear, the condemnation, the public humiliation…..Plot twist! A crowd at the café began yelling back at the ice queen, “Ferme ta gueule! Shut up!” Caught in the crossfire, Ricci and I tiptoed off the battlefield... and hurried home to tell Mama Jules everything. "That's why I stay in bed," mom smiled. "Because, this time of day, all the nuts come out!"

Ouf! I’m tired just thinking about which story to expand upon. Wait a minute, there’s one more! I could write about that surreal wait, Monday, chez le gynéco, where everyone behaved like they were on the Paris Metro: not daring to look at each other lest they break some supernatural law. There in the waiting room, I found myself wondering what brought each woman here. Some were obvious—a pregnant belly here, perhaps birth control pills there... and as for we three middle-aged nanas: prolapsus? Incontinence? Menopause? All three? (Yes! But one doesn’t talk about such things! Just like on the Paris Metro, where you mustn't look into a stranger's eyes, certain subjects are best left unexamined. 

Enfin, voilà! Every week it's the same dilemma: which slice of life to share? So many stories, each has its drama, suspense, and even its own moral. But which one to write about? Laquelle? And therein lies the hitch: whether you’re a writer or a dreamer, you’ve got to choose a path today and ride it out to the end. Vroom! Vroom! After all, the journey is what makes each tale worth telling, each dream worth dreaming, and each day worth living.//

COMMENTS
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A snapshot from our Provence Wine Tour: Donna, Jim, Nancy, and Jean-Marc at Domaine de Paternel.

I love this old typography. Next time it's open, I'm stopping into Mr Lion in Cassis for a treat.

REMERCIEMENTS

With deep appreciation to Jeanne G. and Michele C. for your recent donations. Your kindness, along with the support of all my readers, breathes life into this journal and keeps it going. Merci du fond du cœur! — Kristi

"Thank you for a splendid post that took me right into the heart of your adventures." — Jeanne G.

At Bar de La Marine in Cassis. Borrowing Donna's reading glasses in order to see the menu. 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French words below

laquelle = which, which one
le casse-tête = the puzzle
la grand-mère = the grandmother
chéri(e) = dear, sweet
les aînés = the elders
le maraîcher = the greengrocer
les champignons = the mushrooms
la Haute-Savoie = the Haute-Savoie
le chanterelle = chanterelle (golden wild mushroom, fragrant and tasty.)
le nougat = the nougat
le Montélimar = the
Signes = a small village in the Provençal hinterland
le singe = monkey 
n'est-ce pas = isn't that true?
l'embarras du choix = overwhelming options
l'alchimie = the chemistry
les falaises = the cliffs
le périple = journey
le chien = dog
Allez! Va-t-en! = Go! Get out of here!
Octobre rose = pink October
ferme ta gueule! = shut your mouth!
ouf! = whew!
chez le gynéco = at the gynecologists
les nanas = women (informal, slang)
interdit = forbidden
enfin, voilà = so there you have it
merci du fond du coeur = thank you from the bottom of my heart

Did you notice any words missing from the list? Thanks for letting me know.

Tied to Ricci's leash are those pink sacs à déchets I told you about--for Octobre Rose. 

Fishing boats in Cassis

Le château de Cassis, high up on the cliff. What would you like to read about next week? Let me know in the comments.

I leave you with a story from the 2006 archives. The photo of my mom, Max, and Josephine was taken in 1997, when we lived in St. Maximin. Don't miss the story of Josephine and her famous friend Josephine, here. Given it is Octobre Rose, you might also read my mom's experience with breast cancer here in France, and facing her fears, in the story "Revivre", to live again.