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! 

A giant sapin de noël in the Mediterranean port of Bandol, south of France.

TODAY'S WORD: la flemme

    : laziness, reluctance 

Consider all these translations for "j'ai la flemme":
I don't feel like, I'm too lazy, I'm not motivated, I can't be bothered, I don't even care, I haven't the courage

Audio/Listening: Click the link below to hear Jean-Marc pronounce the French words in the following story. Then scroll down to the vocabulary list to check your French comprehension.

French pronunciation MP3 file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
“For the joy it brings”

As I look up to the highest cupboard in our house, guilty thoughts permeate my mind: What if we skip the tree this year? Would anyone notice or care? Is it a crime not to deck the halls at Christmastime?

Recognizing the lassitude as one big bout of holiday flemme, I had a little pep talk with my inner flemmarde:  It's time to prendre du poil de la bête! Time to pep up, se requinquer! and the only way to do it is to move it. Move that energy. Start by moving the tree!

Ni chaud ni froid?
Dragging a bistro chair over to the mile-high cupboard, I retrieved our sapin artificiel and began decorating it, beginning with la guirlande lumineuse. I began to think about why I had been so reluctant to trim our tree: Was it indifference (ça ne me fait ni chaud ni froid?) Or lack of novelty? (Our Christmas tree lingered until Easter last year...) Or was it because no one was participating this time—does my family have la flemme too? I tested the theory when my son returned from work: "Max, help me put some ornaments on the tree?" 

"Désolé. Trop occupé!" Jean-Marc was busy, too, with les cadeaux de fin d’année (delivering wine to Toulon, to Aubagne, to Marseilles...) and Jules was in her studio, keeping warm under a pile of blankets (Smokey being part of that pile). Jackie would have helped faire le sapin, but she moved out last week--which brings me back to Pourquoi?

Pourquoi faire? What's the point in decorating? Who am I doing this for anyway?

From flemme...to flamme!
Once the fairy lights were on the little tree I stepped back and, Holy Flamme! There it was: une étincelle. A spark in my heart...and then another. I hurried over to get Mom and drag her with me into The Spirit of Christmas, as it moved through our home--an Eternal Flamme overcoming la flemme.

"I'll be there in a minute," Mom said, putting on her lipstick.

I ran back to the house to put on some Christmas music and light a pine-scented candle (the best friend of a faux sapin). When I turned I saw Mom at the glass door. Those same sparks in my heart were now in Mom’s eyes which were lit with excitement. Even Smokey had the spark, bark! bark!

The mixture of surprise and delight on Mom's face as she discovered the lighted Christmas tree put an end to a nagging question—Pourquoi?

The answer was so simple now: for the joy it brings! Pour la joie que cela procure!

FRENCH VOCABULARY
la flemme = laziness, reluctance 
J’ai la flemme = I don’t feel like it
le (la) flemmard(e) = idler, lazybones
prendre du poil de la bête = to bounce back
se requinquer = perk up, pep up
le sapin = fir tree, pine tree
artificiel = imitation, fake, ersatz
la guirlande lumineuse = Christmas-tree lights
ni chaud ni froid = indifference
Ça ne me fait ni chaud ni froid = I don’t mind either way
désolé = sorry
je suis trop occupé = I’m too busy
le cadeau de fin d’année = year-end gift clients give each other
faire le sapin = to put up a Christmas tree
pourquoi? = why?
pourquoi faire = why do it
pour la joie que cela procure = for the joy it brings

...a few words missing from the soundfile
une étincelle = spark
une flamme = flame
un faux sapin = fake tree

Bark, bark! 12-year-old Smokey beneath the fairy lights, doing his best impression of Le Flemmard, or Lazybones.

One year ago, looking in the window at my French family who joined us here for le repas de Noël.

TODAY'S WORD: une mangeoire

        : feeding trough, manger


EXAMPLE SENTENCE:
Là, dans la saleté et entre les animaux, elle mit son bébé au monde. Puis elle l'enveloppa chaudement et, comme il n'y avait pas de berceau, elle le déposa dans *une mangeoire* pour qu'il puisse dormir... There, in the dirt and among the animals, she brought her baby into the world. Then she covered him snugly and, as there was no cradle, she put him in a feeding trough. --from the book "Grande Bible Pour Les Enfants," Chantecler edition


ECOUTEZ:
Listen to our son Max pronounce today's French word and example sentence: Download Mangeoire


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE   by Kristi Espinasse

(Story written years ago...when the kids were little)

Reading to my Francophone children in their native tongue is a humbling, sometimes humiliating experience. Not only for the pause pronunciation—child-issued breaks in which I must stop reading in order to repeat a French word that I have tripped up on—but also for the words that I still do not know: both French... and in English.

Thankfully, not all "readings" are cause for reprimand. De temps en temps, there are eye-opening moments when suddenly, more than a word making sense, the world seems to take on new meaning as well.

It was while reading a chapter called "The birth..." or La naissance de Jésus to my daughter that I felt a lump in my throat and a sting in my eyes. An English word with which I've had but a yearly encounter—usually during the holiday season—suddenly defined itself as its French counterpart moved up my vocal chords and exited in a French chorus of sound and meaning. The text preceding the word (indicated between asterisks, below) only served to set the dramatic stage:

Replacing the word "manger" with "feeding trough", its equivalent, gives the account an even more heartrending effect; "manger" is poetic, while "feeding trough" effectively evokes the brutal bed that was the only resting place for the delicate newborn.

Nativité par Federico Barocci

As for those instances of humiliation—whether in fumbling through French text before a ten-year-old... or in the stories that I have lived that will never be told—my mind now calls up a peaceful bergerie, wherein an unspoiled baby would come to suffer all humility -- Him, instead of me.

FRENCH VOCABULARY
une mangeoire = feeding trough
le repas de Noël = Christmas dinner
de temps en temps = from time to time
La Naissance de Jésus = The Birth of Jesus
la bergerie (f) = shelter (sheepfold)

MERRY CHRISTMAS! Je vous souhaite un joyeux Noël. And in case you were looking for it, here is the recipe for a classic French cake. (If you cut it into thirds--and stuffed it a bit--it could almost pass for the famous bûche de Noël. That's 3 cakes in one! :-)

Christmas lights in our village of  St Cyr-sur-Mer, South of France

TODAY'S WORD: le menuisier

    : carpenter

ECOUTEZ/LISTEN: hear Jean-Marc pronounce the following sentence: 
Download MP3 or Download Wav

    Le menuisier. Le menuisier a donner à Kristi un cadeau de grand signification.
    Carpenter. The carpenter gave Kristi a meaningful gift.


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse

Today, in the seaside town of La Ciotat, I received a gift from a complete stranger after I wandered into his workshop... which turned out to be an antiques store.

"What are you looking for?" he asked with a warm welcome. But there was nothing I could think of. On my way through the shop, packed with intricately-carved armoirs and gilded mirrors, I saw a cross so forgotten that it was camouflaged right into the cold stone wall--a threshold between the showroom and the carpenter shop.

"What about this?" I said. The antiques dealer plucked up the dusty crucifix which was mounted on a threadbare wooden cross.

Gazing at the worn and tattered relic, he suddenly handed it over to me. "It's been here forever. Have it, it's yours.”

The stranger's words lingered in my mind all day, throughout the chaos and the rush before Christmas. Tonight, I finally see the meaning in those last two lines, and I am so grateful for this gift and for the mystery behind it.

***

Sideview of the crucifix: ripped, frayed, tarnished and long-forgotten.

Just back from a doctor's appointment in Marseilles (Youpie! No need for elbow surgery--just a lot of kiné, or physiotherapy visits to repair my coude. Today's photos , and the following post, are from 2 years ago. Meantime, it is not too late to enter the drawing for a one week stay in this Provençal village home.

PEACE ON EARTH - LA PAIX SUR LA TERRE
The other day, while Smokey and I waited in the school parking lot for Jackie, kids filed past our car, occasionally stopping to point and laugh: "Mais regarde sa langue! Just look at his funny tongue! Ahahahaha!"

Laisse tomber! Don't worry about it, Smokey. They don't know your story and there are so many stories out there. The holidays are a time to open up our minds and our hearts. Joyeuses Fêtes.

le pin (pahn) noun, masculine 

: pine tree

Also:

le pin d'Alep = Provencal white pine
le pignon de pin = pine nut
la pomme de pin = pine cone
le code pin, le numéro pin = pin code, pin number

AUDIO FILE:  listen to Jean-Marc read todays word, phrase, and example sentence: Download MP3 or Download Wav

Cette année, notre sapin de Noël est un petit pin d'Alep.
This year our Christmas tree is a Provençal pine.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse

When Jean-Marc suggested hunting for this year's Christmas tree in the forêt behind our house, our daughter wrinkled her nose. Now there was a grimace I could translate in French or English: it said that all her friends probably had REAL Christmas trees, the kind on display at the mall!

Our daughter's reaction made my husband even more determined. It was high time to lift the consumer veil from our children's eyes: A true arbre de Noël didn't always come from the checkout lane! Not this year anyway--not when a forest dense with pines crowded our back yard.

Allez! Jean-Marc persisted, dragging our Christmas tree snob off the couch.

I hid in our room, where I'd taken refuge from all the holiday frenzy. There, in the quiet, I heard the crunch of leaves as my husband, our teenager, and the dogs crossed over the boules court on their way to la chenaîe. 

Not 10 minutes later and they were back. Strange.... They must have encountered les chasseurs and had to postpone their search. I sank deeply into my bed, wondering just when the tree chore would get done! Why didn't I keep the ugly plastic tree of yesteryear? It had been so easy to part with it, while cramming the contents of our lives into two economy trucks last September. What a bad decision that was! (the tree, not the cheap movers. Not one lamp broken in the deal!).

But what was the deal with our tree? I threw back the covers and got out of bed. In the living room I found Jackie back on the couch, watching TV. 

"Well, what happened?" 

My daughter smiled. "Rien". 

"But did you find a Christmas tree?"

"Oui..."

"Well, do you like it?"

"Oui," Jackie nodded, and the stars twinkling in her eyes were proof of that. I felt a bit star-struck myself, bewildered by the peaceful atmosphere. Wasn't tree-shopping supposed to be chaotic? Et bien, we had skipped the commercial venture this time!

My daughter followed me into the entryway to our home, where a rustic fireplace and two felt-covered fauteuils have become a favorite resting spot.

There stood our Christmas tree, between the cozy sas and the dining room. Jackie knelt down on the ground to arrange the area beneath the tree. "Papa collected some mousse in the forest," she explained, as she borrowed some of the characters from the crèche, setting them on top of the deep green ground cover.

The door opened and Jean-Marc came in, his arms full of firewood for the cheminée. "Alors? Ça va l'arbre? Your daughter cut it down."

"It's beautiful!" I admitted. "What kind is it?"

"Un pin d'Alep."

I ran to my dictionary to look up the term. Un pin d'alep is a Provençal pine. What could a hopeless Francophile want more than a French Christmas?

Un Noël Provençal! 

And what more could our daughter want than a real arbe de Noël? From the sparkle in her eyes, it was clear: this year she got her wish.

*** 

Bonnes fêtes! Happy holidays dear reader. May the spirit of the season grab you... filling you with peace, love, and forgiveness. 

Amicalement,

Kristi

French Vocabulary

allez! = come on!

la forêt = forest

un arbre de Noël = a Christmas tree

allez! = come on!

la chenaîe = pin oak grove

les boules = the game of Pétanque, read Gary's story

le chasseur = hunter

rien = nothing

le sas = (a synonym for sas is chambre, or room, but here it refers to a small entry way)

le fauteuil = chair

le papa = dad, father

la mousse = moss

la crèche = nativity scene

la cheminée = fireplace

amicalement = warmly

    
French Christmas Music: "Mon Beau Sapin", "Sainte Nuit", "La Marche des Rois", "Petite Ville Bethléem", "Il est né Le Divin Enfant". Order CD here.

Smokey has taught himself how to eat, despite his handicap. And he has a trick or two for keeping his nerve-damaged tongue in place.... So if you see him walking around town like this, he's not snobbing you--he is only trying to hold himself together!

May you, too, hold yourself together this time of year--doing whatever you need to do to enjoy the moment. Not everyone will understand your position (just look at Smokey's!), but that's not your problem. Ce n'est pas ton souci :-)

To comment on this post, click here.

Thanks for sharing today's post with somebody, and see you next week!

The other day while Smokey and I waited in the school parking lot for Jackie, kids filed past our car, occasionally stopping to point and to laugh: "Mais regarde sa langue! Just look at his funny tongue! Ahahahaha!"

"Laisse tomber! Don't worry about it, Smokey. They don't know your story." So many stories out there... how little we know of the "strange" looking people we pass on the street. The holidays are as good a time as any to open up our minds and our hearts.

le pin (pahn) noun, masculine 

: pine tree

le pin d'Alep = Provencal white pine

Audio File: listen to Jean-Marc read todays word, phrase, and example sentence: Download MP3 or Download Wav

Cette année, notre sapin de Noël est un petit pin d'Alep.
This year our Christmas tree is a Provençal pine.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse

When Jean-Marc suggested hunting for this year's Christmas tree in the forêt behind our house, our daughter wrinkled her nose. Now there was a grimace I could translate in French or English: it said that all her friends probably had real Christmas trees, the kind on display at the mall!

Our daughter's reaction made my husband even more determined. It was high time to lift the consumer veil from our children's eyes: A true arbre de Noël didn't always come from the checkout lane! Not this year anyway... not when a forest dense with pines crowded our back yard.

Allez! Jean-Marc persisted, dragging our 15-year-old Christmas tree snob off the couch.

I remained hidden in my room, where I'd taken refuge from all the holiday frenzy. There, in the quiet, I heard footsteps as my husband, our teenager, and the dogs crossed over the boules court on their way to the forest. 

Not 10 minutes later and they were back. The brisk foray seemed a bad sign... they must have encountered les chasseurs and had to postpone their search. I sank more deeply into my bed, wondering just when the tree chore would get done! Why didn't I keep the ugly plastic tree of yesteryear? It had been so easy to decide to part with it, while trying to cram our entire life into two economy trucks last September. What a dumb decision that was! (the tree, not the cheap movers—not one lamp broken in the deal!).

But what was the deal with our tree? I threw back the covers and got out of bed. In the living room I found Jackie back on the couch, watching TV. 

"Well, what happened?" 

My daughter smiled. "Rien". 

"But did you find tree?"

"Oh, oui..."

"Well, do you like it?"

"Oui," she nodded, and the stars twinkling in her eyes were proof of that. I felt a bit star-struck myself, bewildered by the peaceful atmosphere, when it was chaos I had anticipated.

My daughter followed me into the sas, the cozy entryway to our home, where a rustic fireplace and two felt-covered fauteuils have become a favorite resting spot.

There the tree stood, between the cozy sas and the dining room, punctuating the two spaces like a semi-colon that joins independent clauses—in this case santa clauses!

Leave it to that delicate, sweep of a tree to join all our Christmases of yesteryear, to the one just before us, the one I had tried to steer clear of!

Jackie knelt down on the ground to arrange the area beneath the tree. "Papa collected some mousse in the forest," she explained, as she borrowed some of the characters from the crèche, setting them on top of the deep green ground cover.

The door opened and Jean-Marc came in, his arms full of firewood for the cheminée. "Alors? Ça va l'arbre? Your daughter cut it down."

"It's beautiful!" I admitted. "What kind is it?"

"Un pin d'Alep."

I ran to my dictionary to look up the term. Un pin d'alep equalled a Provençal pine. What more could a hopeless Francophile want than a French Christmas? This year it would be un Noël Provençal! 

And what more could our daughter want than a real arbe de Noël. From the sparkle in her eyes, it was clear this year she had one.

*** 

Bonnes fêtes! Happy holidays dear reader. May the spirit of the season grab you... filling you with peace, love, and forgiveness. Thank you for reading these missives and for your encouragement to continue writing them. 

Amicalement,

Kristi

To comment on this post, click here. 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

la forêt = forest

un arbre de Noël = a Christmas tree

 allez! = come on!

les boules = the game of Pétanque, read Gary's story

le chasseur = hunter

rien = nothing

le sas = (a synonym for sas is chambre, or room, but here it refers to a small entry way)

le fauteuil = chair

le papa = dad, father

la mousse = moss

la crèche = nativity scene

la cheminée = fireplace

amicalement = warmly (is "friendlily" a word?...)

Paris Metro Cuff! It also makes a wonderful conversational piece -- to wear on your wrist.  A wonderful "conversation piece" for your wardrobe. Order one here.

    
French Christmas Music: "Mon Beau Sapin", "Sainte Nuit", "La Marche des Rois", "Petite Ville Bethléem", "Il est né Le Divin Enfant". Order CD here.

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Smokey has taught himself how to eat, despite his little handicap (we won't go into details, but he may have learned the trick from a mama bird...). And he has a trick or two for keeping his tongue in place. Name this photo--your thought bubbles are most welcome! To comment on any item in this post, click here.

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If you enjoy these words and photos, thanks for sharing them with a friend or classmate or teacher--anyone who loves France!

Do you feel like this Santa, during the holiday rush. Just hanging on? Waiting for it all to pass? Read on.

fêtard(e) (feh-tar, feh-tard)

    : party animal, someone who likes to party

Audio File: Listen to the following sentence in French Download MP3 or Wave file

Dans ma jeunesse, j'étais une fêtarde.
In my youth, I was a party animal.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse

Last weekend the pressure was on to begin decorating our home for Christmas. Have you got your tree up yet? my Anglophone friends wanted to know. Feeling worse and worse for procrastinating, I clung to the thought that most French homes wouldn't have a tree up by now... but a quick trip to the supermarket, for a few staples, revealed another story. 

There at the checkout line, Christmas trees were selling like hotcakes! I dragged my feet over to the display, to check out the stock of cellophane-wrapped trees.

There were two sizes and two prices : 35 euros ($45) or 45 euros ($60). I examined the two models that were on display (all the other trees were wrapped tighter than a bound umbrella, measuring not much longer than one either!). I noted the large gaps in branches, as well as the crooked aspect of the arbres. If these were the display models, surely the ones in cellophane were a sorry lot! I collected my groceries, and left the supermarket. I tried not to look at the other cars in the parking lot, as the drivers packed their sapins de Noël into their trunks. But averting my eyes wouldn't avert panic: Now even the French were on time for Christmas!

What had been worry, or guilt, quickly turned into grumpiness and finger-pointingness. I began to lash out, in my mind, at all the goody-two-shoes who were early to Christmas—with their goody-two-shoes trees and their goody-two-shoes decorations (by the way just where were our decorations? Having moved homes a few months ago, not all of our boxes were unpacked... which meant they could be anywhere! Now on top of finding a tree—we had to find the damned decorations! *&@!!!).

Shoving the groceries into the fridge, I hurried to my room to take refuge at the bottom of my bed. I began counting the days. It would all be over before long. Christmas would come and go... but then there would be New Year's Eve to deal with... and then Paques! And then What are your plans for Bastille Day? and What are you doing for Thanksgiving?

And to think that some of these celebrations are not even sacred observances. To the French, they are no more than traditions! This last reality made me even more frustrated.  

As I sank lower into my bed, I feared the unthinkable: was I, deep down, no more than a grinch? If not a grinch, perhaps a spoil sport? If not a spoil sport wasn't I, at bottom, just one big party pooper?

...or just pooped?

Worn out or not, it is peace I am after ... and, after all, it is peace we can share.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

un arbre = tree (story here)
le sapin de Noël = Christmas tree (click here for the story)
Paques = Easter (story here)

I'm getting ready to film the first in a series of videos about our home renovation. Don't miss a clip! - subscribe to our YouTube channel. Forward this and tell a design savvy architecturally-minded friend about the channel. They might have fun following us on this project in the sunny South of France (...meantime we are freezing in this heat-challenged home). Photo taken in Serre Chevalier, near Briançon.

Sapin (sah-pahn) noun, masculine

fir tree, Christmas tree
. 

Today's story is from Blossoming in Provence. Please keep my book in mind for your gift-giving needs! Your book support helps to keep this word journal going. Click here to order. Merci beaucoup!

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE... by Kristin Espinasse

When Max came into the kitchen announcing, "Papa a acheté un sapin," I folded the dishtowel, set it down and took a deep breath. I knew the Christmas tree would be trunk-size—all the better to fit into the back of our economy car—and not tall, like the spruce my mom used to whisk home (space limits were not an issue... Mom had the tree tied to the top of her '68 Camaro). 

"Cela suffira," I reminded myself, hoping to have finally learned a lesson. The tree, whatever it is, will be just what we need, and failing that, it will at least be real! Only, when I saw what my husband, The Nonconsumer, brought home this time, every nerve in my body became a live wire. 

There in the center of the salon stood the most abominable tree that I had ever laid eyes on. I knew better than to open my mouth lest the bassesse of language, French or English, should spew forth. Meanwhile my nerves began to short-circuit, and it was only a matter of time before the sparks reached my tongue, causing it to ignite.

"How much did you pay for it?" I questioned, teeth clamped.

"Twelve euros," Jean-Marc answered, jaws relaxed.

Twelve euros! That's 15 dollars... about how much he would spend on a decent bottle of wine—one that we might share in a single night. But a Christmas tree—that's something we could have spent a little more on, as we would enjoy it for an entire month! 

After a moment of silence so thick you could hang tinsel on it, Jean-Marc challenged me: "You can take it back if you don't like it." His remark was delivered with the coolness of a peppermint candy cane.

"It is not for me to take back. YOU take it back!"

My husband's next response was to slam the door. I watched the ripple effect as the tinsel fell to the floor. 

My attention drifted back to the artificial arbre. A Christmas tree should be at least as tall as a child! I reasoned. Staring at the sapin de Noël, I noticed its mangled branches and its missing foliage. It was a fake fir, one so cheap that it came with its own styrofoam ornaments! And was that "presto tinsel" stuck to the branches? 

I thought about the nine-foot-tall Colorado spruce that was Mom's joy to decorate. The ornaments were not automatically glued to the branches. They were handmade! One year Mom covered the tree with white colombes and pheasant plumes. She took the ordinary blue boules and dressed them up with peacock feathers (using only the fancy tops, or  what she called the "eyes" of the feathers). Her zeal for holiday decorating didn't stop at the giant tree—she had those doves "flying" from the branches to the front door!

My eyes returned to the bedroom door, which had just been slammed shut. I looked back down at the Christmas tree. The longer I stared, the uglier it appeared. 

"It is the ugliest tree that I have ever seen!" I grumbled, pulling off what decorations Jean-Marc and Jackie had put up. I yanked apart the tree and shoved it into the stupid bag from which it came. Still smarting, I returned to the kitchen and slammed the dirty pots and pans around in the sink, the sink without a garbage disposal! Only in France!

"You're so complicated," my Frenchman used to say as I struggled to adapt to his country, to his ways, to his small-treed holidays. Over the years, I began to suspect that he had a point. Indignation turned to industry as, little by little, I began ousting the surplus and the superflu—learning the difference between want and besoin, all the while simplifying, simplifying! 

The sum of all that effort now stood before me, concrete in form, via this, the simplest tree.

"But I want a COMPLICATED Christmas treeeeeee!" I cried out, shoving the sponge back into the pan as I scoured and glowered. "I want a showy, superfluous, SUPERCALIFRAGILISTIC spruce!"

Just then I heard the rustle of faux branches and a whisper....

"Il est beau!" Max was saying to his sister. 

"Oui, regarde," she agreed, softly. 

I listened to the clanking of aluminum bulbs.... Peeking around the corner, I witnessed the scene. Max had pulled the tree back out of the bag and reassembled it. The branches, still tordues, now had a colorful array of bulbs, some chipped, some dusty, some new—all carefully hung. There were so many decorations that the empty parts, where branches seemed to be missing, were now filled in.

Jean-Marc was on his knees searching for an electrical outlet. Finding one, he plugged in the tree lights, but when he turned to reach for the switch.... my hand was already on it. Our eyes locked. 

My husband smiled as I flipped the switch. When the tree lights went on, the room came to a swift hush. In the silence she appeared: La Joie—an étincelle here, a sparkle there—happiness filling the room, its presence so real, so palpable, you could hang tinsel on it.

 ***

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P.S. Special thanks to the readers who helped edit today's story! You can see their comments in the original post, from the archives.
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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Papa a acheté un sapin = Papa's bought a Christmas tree
çela suffira = that'll suffice
le salon = living room
la bassesse = baseness
un arbre = tree
le sapin de Noël = Christmas tree
la colombe = dove (read about the kind-hearted "dove man" I met in Sicily! click here.)
la plume = feather
la boule = ball
le superflu = superfluity
le besoin = need
il est beau = it is beautiful (tree)
oui, regarde = yes, look
tordu(e) = twisted, bent
la joie = joy
une étincelle = spark, sparkle

Paris Metro Cuff! It also makes a wonderful conversational piece -- to wear on your wrist.  A wonderful "conversation piece" for your wardrobe. Order one here.

   
French Christmas Music: "Mon Beau Sapin", "Sainte Nuit", "La Marche des Rois", "Petite Ville Bethléem", "Il est né Le Divin Enfant". Order CD here.

Does the Christmas rush "kill" the joy of the holidays? And re gift-giving, how much is too much and how little, too little? or is it all just over the top? Are we remembering the reason for the season? Read on in today's story column. 

 tuer (too-ay)

    : to kill

tuer le temps = to kill time

Reverse Dictionary

killjoy (spoilsport) = un(e) rabat-joie
to kill two birds with one stone = faire d'une pierre deux coups
to make a killing = réussir un bon coup 

Audio File: listen to our daugher, Jackie, read these French words from today's story:
Download MP3 or Download Wav

    Trop de cadeaux tuent les cadeaux.
    Too many presents kill the presents.


French Christmas Music: "Mon Beau Sapin", "Sainte Nuit", "La Marche des Rois", "Petite Ville Bethléem", "Il est né Le Divin Enfant". Order CD here. 

A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

Jackie got a head start on the holiday season by drawing up her liste de voeux in November. Since, she has taken every opportunity to remind us just what it is she would like for Noël.

I think that reciting her Christmas list gives our girl as much joy as the items listed on it will one day give her.

"Jackie," I tease, "What was it you said you wanted for Christmas?" I watch my 14-year-old's face light up as I listen to the familiar rundown.

Despite her seeming greed for the gift-giving season, there are only four items on Jackie's list: one costs nothing (our daughter is asking for a certain droit—hint, read her bilingual post on the subject), though another item seems a bit pricey!

Because I doubt she will get everything on her list, I ask Santa's darling to write down a few more wishes for us clueless Père Noëls. Instead, she bowls me over with this response.

"Trop de cadeaux tuent les cadeaux!" 

Comment? Have I heard my daughter correctly?  Did she just say that "too many presents kill the presents?"

My mind calls forth a parade of images in which children are ripping open brightly wrapped boxes only to quickly push them aside and reach for more gifts. Did they even see what was in the box? one wonders. Perhaps they did... and the joy and the fun are simply in opening the presents?

Or perhaps trop de cadeaux tuent les cadeaux as Jackie sees it. I am so moved by this most recent leap toward maturity that I want to buy my daughter everything on her list and then some... but wouldn't this be defeating the purpose?

Let's see, what was the purpose?... (Perhaps I should add "memory recall" to my own Wish List?) Oh, yes: gift-giving and the balance between underdoing it and overdoing it. As we ask ourselves this question this holiday season, let's not lose sight of the greater picture: Love, Joy, Peace, and Forgiveness—these are among the greatest gifts of all. I think I'll take my daughter's example, and recite them—like a cherished Liste de Voeux—at every chance. More than that, I'm going to wrap them up right now, in the biggest most glittery box, and send them off to you... Joyeuses Fêtes! 

Le Coin Commentaires
Love, joy, peace... what to add to this list? What would you like to wish others this season? Leave your wish in the comments box. You might also share your gift-giving philosophy and any thoughts you are having this time of year. Merci beaucoup!

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On a grammar note, Jackie tells me that the expression she shared was inspired by the following popular expression: trop de... tue/tuent le/la...  Some examples are:

Trop de travail tue le travail (too much works kills the work) 

Trop de gâteaux tuent le gâteau (too much cake kills the cake)

Trop d'amusement tuent l'amusement (too much fun kills fun)

French Vocabulary

la liste de voeux = wish list

le Noël = Christmas

le droit = right

le Père Noël = Santa Claus

comment = what's that? what did you say?

Joyeuses Fêtes = Happy Holidays

Maybe the question is not "how much to give?" but rather, "How can I help?" In front of one of Paris's soup kitchens, the sign reads reads, simply: "Help us if you can".