Inébranlable: Unflappable in French (A Mother-Daughter story)
Thursday, January 23, 2025
Jackie and Ricci ordering tea and a Galette des Rois at Le Nageur café on the old port in La Ciotat. For more photos and to stay connected, follow me on Instagram @kristinespinasse
TODAY'S WORD: INÉBRANLABLE
: unshakeable, unflappable
A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
Hej! That's bonjour in Swedish. Twenty-five years ago, before taking the leap into writing, I worked at a vignoble in France owned by the Swedish State. Fanny, a young mother of two and the secretary there, made me feel welcome as I rejoined the workforce after my own little ones entered school.
As sweet as Fanny was, she was firm, and her sense of humor softened any blows. Throughout the day workers would come to her with their urgent demands, but Fanny, with her long strawberry blond curls, was never ruffled. One day le caviste arrived, pounding his fists on her desk, having run out of corks. “Mes bouchons! Didn’t you order them? I NEED THEM NOW!”
During such a meltdown, Fanny’s eyes would narrow as she chewed her gum thoughtfully. “Ne me fais pas un caca nerveux, Philippe!” she would answer calmly.
There at my desk facing hers, I nearly spit my coffee out translating Fanny’s words: “Now don’t go having a nervous poop, Philippe!” She sure knew how to de-dramatise the situation.
Fanny was my hero. I can still see that conspiratorial wink she would flash me as she managed such urgencies and the emotions surrounding them. I really could use Fanny’s calme inébranlable, her rock-solid composure when others (or my own) catastrophic imaginings get the best of me, as they did recently...
It began with a late-night call from my 27-year-old daughter. Jackie was at the airport in Palm Springs, on her way home to France when the ticketing agent warned her she risked being stopped at customs. The one-way ticket she purchased required her French passport when entering the Schengen zone and not the alternative American passport our little bi-national has had the option of using since birth. Though her brother, Max, assured her her American passport was stamped in the back, certifying she was a French national, Jackie feared she would be deported the moment she landed in Amsterdam. “They could send me back to California!”
“Jackie, that’s not going to happen!” I promised my daughter, having been through similar panics with her in the past. No! This time I was not going to drop everything and go searching high and low for the documents she was asking for. Not when I was finally warm in my bed after a day too challenging to write about or explain.
Never explain, never complain, ideally speaking, but reality is often different from our best intentions. Suddenly the phone line was jumping as mother and daughter tossed a proverbial hot potato:
“Mom! Quit shouting!”
“Jackie, I am not shouting!”
“Mom, if you will calm down I….”
“I am calm! Now just tell me where those papers are!”
“Why are you so upset?”
“I am not upset. I am tired!” What I didn’t tell Jackie was that earlier, when I had gone to bed, my only prayer was that she would make it home safely. And now this administrative glitch might prolong that dreaded 3-flight journey back.
Our argument amounted to both of us releasing that stress. Round and round we went until finally, down the cold stairwell I hurried, to go rifling through Jackie’s room. This restless impatience isn’t limited to moments like these—it spills into my writing, where I second-guess every word and wonder if I’ll ever relax enough to simply tell the story. If only I wouldn’t get so worked up before completing the task at hand… It’s as if I need so much built-up tension for the goods to come spilling out. Is there an art to such pressure? Shouldn’t creation simply flow? Is this essay getting off-track?
Finally, to my surprise, Jackie’s documents were easy to find when I followed her simple directions. I quickly snapped photos of her French passport and her French national identity card and sent them on, wishing I’d done so immediately—and so avoided a long drawn-out drama! Talk about a caca nerveux!
In the end, our little globe-trotter passed la douane (no need for the extra documents, the stamp on the back of her passport was, as her bro said, sufficient) and Jackie arrived safely home. There she stood on our front steps, wearing a stylish, modern cowboy hat, and all black, her valises on either side of her. Our enguelade instantly forgotten, we hugged each other tightly. Thank God she had a safe journey. I could now release any remaining tension.
“I’m so glad you’re home. I love you,” I said, tugging the brim of her hat.
“Me too, I love you.” Reaching down to calm an overexcited Ricci, Jackie murmured, “Et oui. Je t’aime aussi!”
The next day we set out with Ricci on a mother-daughter hike up to le sémaphore, to help with jet lag and to clear the air between us. It was also the chance to talk about Jackie’s plans. The marketing program she began last semester was not what she thought it would be. Recently, she’s developed an interest in Pilates….
“You know, I can really see you as a physical trainer!” I said, huffing and puffing my way up the hill. “Can I be your first student when you get your certificate?”
“Oh, Mom. I’m so relieved you are not disappointed in me for leaving school!”
“I think you are one smart cookie and you are finding your way. You have the emotional intelligence, caring heart, and the experience to work in the health and fitness industry. I never did see you behind a computer all day long.”
We paused along the jagged trail to contemplate a new beginning. Below us, the deep blue bay of La Ciotat hugged the rocky coastline. The hills rising up to le sémaphore glowed with faded blossoms, reflecting the auburn highlights in my daughter’s hair. In the quiet, several tiny birds flitted back and forth between the bushes, like colorful strokes on a brand new canvas. The picture was bright.
Jackie’s next words stirred the paint, before the universe added an unexpected brushstroke to our horizon…
“Max called from le chantier. He wanted to know if he and Jacques could come over for dinner tonight. And maybe Ana will be here. Oh, and let’s invite Aunt Cécile!”
Just like that, I began panicking over what to cook for a growing party of last-minute guests. With Jean-Marc away in South America, I’d lost my boussole—my compass in times of family gatherings. Who’ll serve the wine? Who’ll grill? Who’ll make bananes flambées? My internal chatter was spiraling again. Let’s see… Max will serve the wine…we don’t have to barbecue…and everyone loves ice cream—especially Grandma. But how would we get Jules to join us—oh, yes, ice cream!
“Mom relax, I’ll take care of it!” Jackie said, sounding very much like her father. Her growing smile won me over. Pourquoi pas? Why not have a dinner party? My youngest was home safe, with a new, exciting plan. This was a cause to celebrate!
Somewhere, I like to think Fanny is smiling too. I see her winking at me as she snaps her chewing gum with a playful pop. “Now, stay cool, ma belle. Enjoy your family, and continue to write about this beautiful life. It is worth sharing.
I also see several little birds flitting back and forth along the path, prepping the canvas for the next chapter…
***
COMMENTS
Your comments are encouraging and your correction are so helpful. Thanks in advance! To leave a message, click here.
Our Provençal Christmas tree moved to the patio, where our doves enjoy hanging out.
FRENCH VOCABULARY
Listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the following French words
inébranlable = unflappable
le vignoble = vineyard
le caviste = cellar worker
les bouchons = corks
le caca nerveux = nervous poop, meltdown
Ne me fais pas un caca nerveux = Don’t freak out
la douane = customs
la valise = suitcase
l’enguelade = argument, row
et oui = and yes
Je t’aime aussi = I love you too
le sémaphore = signal station (a hilltop building used historically for maritime communication, offering stunning views)
le chantier = the renovation site
la boussole = compass
la banane flambée = Bananas Foster, carmelized banana with rum
pourquoi pas? = why not?
ma belle, mon beau = darling (an elegant way to say my dear)
Jackie at the Living Desert Zoo and Gardens in Palm Desert. She had an inspiring visit with her grandparents in California.
I left my job at the Swedish vineyard to begin French Word-A-Day in October of 2002. I would drop the kids at school, write all day, and pick them up in time for le goûter (after school snack). Life, then, in the medieval village of Les Arcs-sur-Argens, offered a lot of "grist for the mill"--plenty to write about. Those stories are collected in the book Words in a French Life: Lessons in Love and Language from the South of France
REMERCIEMENTS
Heartfelt thanks to the readers who contributed after my last post. Your support means so much and helps keep this journal alive and thriving—I couldn’t do it without you!
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Parlez-Vous Provence
Mom, on her wedding day in Sedona, Arizona. Her marriage license was never filed. Don't miss the story of how Jules came to France, in the post "Le Collier" (The Necklace)
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety
Love this story💛🌳🌿
Posted by: Kim | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 09:42 AM
This was such a fun story. I always appreciate reading your life's stories, musings, lessons! And I now have a new expression to use on my husband. ;)
Posted by: Jennifer | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 12:22 PM
Bonjour Kristi!
Loved this story and the photos! Such a beautiful scene with Rocco on the path with the sea in the background!
I am going through pilates teacher training now! Tell Jackie to go for it!
Blessings,
Eileen
Posted by: Eileen | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 01:13 PM
A lovely story and a beautiful photo to brighten this cold day in New Jersey for me. Thank you, Kristi. I love that new phrase!!
Posted by: Suzanne in Monroe Twp, NJ | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 03:03 PM
What a marvelous and loving mother you are Kristi!
Mary Liz
Posted by: Mary Liz higgins | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 03:06 PM
Thank you for the lovely story and photos bout a loving family. Have a great day.
Posted by: Nancy | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 03:43 PM
Bon Nouvel An, Kristi!
Isn’t it great to be together, knowing everyone is safe? Tell Jackie, that having a Pilates certificate is wonderful! I have my own home studio as Oaks Pilates and have been doing it since I left the dance world. It’s a really satisfying endeavor, not only for oneself, but for anyone who practices it!
Sending hugs!
Posted by: Patti Raffy | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 03:55 PM
Quick dinner party? PASTA PASTA PASTA...for a first bruschette with olive oil and anchovies or chopped tomatoes with basil, cilantro, lemon thyme, salt and peppe, whatever you have! 3-minute ice cream: KEEP fresh fruit from summer or buy frozen mangos a PICARD and pop them in the top of a food processor with sugar to taste, a shot of vanilla and spin the frozen fruit into small pieces, then add heavy cream or even yogurt to make instant ice cream. Stop pulsing when it looks exactly like ice cream and serve quickly. People go mad....keep that frozen fruit all year round for emergencies like this. Or spend about 30 minutes one day making chocolate truffles and keep them in the freezer. ALWAYS welcome as dessert....see my substack for recipes. You did well with the batti beco (beating of the beaks in Italian) but mammas and daughters sometimes have these....pas de souci.❤️❤️❤️
Posted by: Suzanne Dunaway | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 04:06 PM
Tres reele, tres drove, j'identifie.
Posted by: CindyPoling | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 06:32 PM
Kristi,
I am so happy to receive again French word a day after a hiatus ??
As always your writing is sincere, spontaneous from your heart. I relate to your story today, mother/daughter interactions, nonetheless, filled with love. Changing careers, finding your niche is totally normal, my daughter went through that experience. Change, at the end, it leads to what one really loves to do. Jackie will too. Bon courage Jackie❣️
Posted by: Marti Hinman | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 07:21 PM
Our dear Kristi ,
Your wonderful words( pictures!-- AND vocabulary!) never fail to reach out and wrap themselves around our hearts.The bonds you share with Jackie,Max,Jules,Jean Marc-- all of your beautiful family-- are truly gifts from God and an create an example for all of us.
Life is so short already without the placement of additional distractions and negativity.
You handled the surprise dinner party with grace. I personally have never been the one to be cool as a cucumber when a surprise like that falls into my lap.Again-- as always!,-- BRAVO CHERE KRISTI!!
Blessings always
Arms tight around you all
Love
Natalia
Posted by: Natalia | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 08:46 PM
Very interesting human story. I loved the picture, the first one, just above your Christmas tree on the patio. What a beautiful scenery. I wish i was an artist! Remain blessed with your family.
Posted by: Dr Abdul Malik de Canada | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 09:10 PM
Picards! Picards! Picards! Don't work yourself into a lather over entertaining. Cook one main dish and then leave the rest to Picards. And visit the boulangerie and/or patisserie. It's just family.
I like following Jackie's adventures. She may change her mind often regarding her future, but at least she keeps moving.
Posted by: Julie Farrar | Thursday, January 23, 2025 at 10:37 PM
Bonjour Kristi
Not sure this is the correct place to respond
But here goes:
John Mueller
3:25 PM (1 minute ago)
to Kristin
Bonjour Kristi
Grist for the mill--indeed
I just read your latest epistle and noticed the phrase--
"grist for the mill"--coincidentally I am now reading a book
by Baba Ram Dass entitled "Grist for the Mill"--
not to make too much of it but
je comprend, je pense, this saying
and enjoyed (not sure that is the right word)
seeing it in your email
so, anyway--we do what we can do---one way
or the other
Merci pour tout
John Mueller
Posted by: John Mueller | Friday, January 24, 2025 at 12:30 AM
Love this story, Kristi. I can’t wait to use the new phrase when my lovely but outrageous neighbor gets too dramatic! I’m in the blue sky’s and sunshine of San Miguel de Allende right now but will be home in (hopefully warmer) Antibes soon. Bisoys
Posted by: Jacqueline | Friday, January 24, 2025 at 02:29 AM
Dear Kristi, I love all your posts and the photos are always fun, but what resonates with me the most is how you describe your emotions. I feel like we are related. When you described the frantic call with Jackie and how it was resolved--oh my, that's me! And surprises connected with planning meals for a group- ouf! How that can get my blood pressure sky high. I'd really like suggestions from you and other readers how to deal with those situations. Mille mercis.
Posted by: Diane Heinecke | Friday, January 24, 2025 at 03:39 AM
Bonjour, Kristi
We've all "been there," with family shifting our plans, unexpectedly. You capture every slice of life perfectly. Thank you for your perspective.
I admire your photographic eye, too.
Marion
Posted by: Marion Johnson | Friday, January 24, 2025 at 03:01 PM
You open your loving heart with such courage and honesty Kristi. I feel every step of your way. You are a wonderful mother too.
Posted by: Margaret Morris | Saturday, January 25, 2025 at 01:59 PM
Oh my. You began in October 2002 and I discovered you and began reading in January 2003. Max and Jacquie were just tiny wee ones. I have loved every step of your journey, but the best was visiting you and Jean Marc at Domaine Rouge-Bleu.
I wish I had assimilated every French word you have shared. What a vocabulary I would have.
Posted by: Sherry | Sunday, January 26, 2025 at 09:26 PM
I have been looking in your archives for the recipe that you have mentioned several times for yogurt cake. I can’t seem to find it. Would you mind posting that again? Lynne Schweitzer
Posted by: Lynne | Tuesday, January 28, 2025 at 08:30 AM