FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Bubbles in Barcelona: Enjoy the story of our father-daughters’ Mediterranean reunion in today's entry “Papa Chéri.”

TODAY’S WORD: PAPA CHÉRI
Sweet Dad, Darling Dad

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

It’s 4:15 a.m., and I’ve just hugged my sister, Heidi, goodbye. She is on her way home to Denver. In another three hours, it will be time to send off our other sister, Kelley, and our dad, who will fly back to Seattle. We have just spent nine days together, laughing, reminiscing, and toasting to this collective effort to be together once again—and the sunny Mediterranean was the ideal backdrop for our family reunion at sea!

After our dad launched the idea of a father-daughter voyage a few years ago, it was our little sister who tracked down the ideal seven-day séjour. Kelley, a flight attendant, learned about Azamara cruises thanks to her colleague Susie, who is experienced in les croisières. Being cruise novices, we weren’t sure what to expect, but since our goal was to spend time together and celebrate Dad’s upcoming 83rd birthday, we didn’t really care about perfection—though that’s exactly what we got!

Our Mediterranean itinerary began in Spain and stopped at ports along the south of France. While it may seem strange to go port-hopping so close to home (Collioure, Marseille, Toulon, Sanary-sur-Mer, Nice, Monaco—and even Ajaccio are familiar spots), I appreciated my family’s willingness to travel in my direction. My Dad was hesitant, but agreed to traverse three international airports, security, customs, and the rest. He was accompanied all the way by a first-class flight attendant—Kelley—which made the deal a little sweeter.

There in Barcelona, before boarding Azamara’s 700-passenger ship, Onward, my sister Heidi and I waited our turn in line to check our bags. Ahead of us stood a tall, beautiful blonde and a distinguished gentleman who could have been her father. That’s because he was her father—only onlookers could easily make the wrong assumption! We needed to have T-shirts printed to clear up any confusion. One would read “That’s my Dad” (with a large arrow) and the other, “That’s my daughter —>.” On second thought, why not have Dad’s T-shirt read “Sugar Daddy” and give those accidental gawkers something to gossip about! Given the range of characters aboard our ship, there was no shortage of misconceptions, and we enjoyed every minute of people-watching—and making our own colorful conclusions.

After checking our bags and going through security, we boarded the cruise ship and headed straight to lunch, poolside. Incidentally, poolside would be the only part of the ship we’d easily recognize, as we never did figure out exactly where we were on the 181-meter-long, multi-storied vessel. To borrow a line from our sister, “Passengers tend to check their brains with their bags…” Kelley means that tenderly, as that’s what vacation is all about: relaxing the mind.

With seven days ahead of us, we had plenty of time to orient ourselves. Though I still can’t tell you whether these places were bow, starboard, port, or stern side, here are the spots we frequented most: the Cabaret Room (for evening entertainment, including Disco Night and Bingo), the Den (for the piano bar), the walking/jogging track for daily exercise (and a spectacular early morning view of the latest port), the library, and the various eateries.

Every morning, we began with breakfast at Windows Café. The selection was vast—from le saumon fumé to pancakes—it was, as the French say, l’embarras du choix, overwhelming! Each night we dined at Discoveries Restaurant, and it was as good as the fine dining (five floors up) we experienced the first night. Lobster, filet mignon, crab cakes, lamb… the selection was gastronomique. Everything was cooked to order and delicious. Located near two onboard boutiques, the Mosaic Café was my favorite stop for a twice-daily latté and les gourmandises (cookies, carrot cake, lemon tart). There was even an array of dainty tea sandwiches. Ordering whatever you desire felt like being Charlie in The Chocolate Factory. On this cruise ship, everything is included—even le pourboire! My conscience was rattled at every meal, but the waiters insisted waste was dealt with ecologically (if not geographically. In a perfect world all the untouched food would be packed up at delivered fresh to the ports for immediate redistribution). 

The flower market in Nice

Our room being located above the bow, we were shaken awake that first morning by the lowering of a massive anchor! We dressed, had breakfast, and took a tender off the boat to reach our first destination: Port Vendres. Just in front of the tourist office, we stepped onto Le Petit Train, heading towards Collioure. The weather was so sunny and warm, people were swimming in the sparkling cove—in October!

Cathedrale de la Major in Marseille

We made it back to the boat for lunch and a little siesta, followed by drinks and dinner. We repeated this agreeable schedule daily (except in Marseille, where we met up with Jackie for a private shopping tour and lunch near Le Vieux Port. Aunt Heidi and Aunt Kelley were delighted to see their nièce, but Grandpa stayed on the boat, nursing a slight cold. He would gladly catch up with his granddaughter later in the week).

Kelley, me, Heidi at a café in the bustling port of Toulon

As for catching up, on this trip my sisters were on a sentimental mission: to make up for lost time. Heidi and I grew up in the Arizona desert, while Kelley was born and raised in Washington State. Beginning when Kelley was a teenager, we three gathered whenever possible, but a geographical distance made it challenging. Now, in mid-life, here we were, together again and taking enough pictures to crash our dad’s phone. We may not have a family picture or Christmas card from bygone days but, ouistiti! there was no stopping us now.

“Here, let me help you with your hair,” Heidi said one evening, offering me a salon-worthy blowout. She had this amazing brush and, after enough hints, she gifted it to me just to shut me up! Like teenagers, we shared each other’s stuff and savoir-faire, as siblings do. Kelley offered us each a trousse de toilette, filled with lotions and potions and we all giggled when Dad chimed in, telling us how much he enjoyed the eye mask. We had to give Dad credit for managing to participate in all our girly conversations, though he drew the line at window shopping, or “lécher les vitrines” as the French say (literally “licking windows”). We could spend hours in antique stores and boutiques at every port.

During the cruise, we each reveled in one-on-one time with Dad. While my sisters enjoyed father-daughter conversations on the sundeck, I relished our indoor tête-à-têtes, always tender and amusante. Over coffee with Dad at the Mosaic Café, we were talking about tap water when Dad casually mentioned he was drinking from the bathroom sink in his cabin. “Dad!” I cautioned, “You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can. I drink tap water all the time.”

I called the barista over to explain why this was a bad idea, given how much bleach they use to treat seawater. Dad allowed the young man to elaborate before replying, “Well, it may have some imperfection... but it’s not poisonous imperfection! I’ll stick to the cabin water!”

Speaking of cabins—or “staterooms”—Dad and Kelley shared one with twin beds, while Heidi and I were one floor below in a near-identical layout. Everything was comfortable except the temperature… and so began the thermostat wars. My sisters, with their Antarctic leanings, would’ve been better climate companions for each other. Dad and I prefer heat, so when the girls were sleeping, we turned up the dials!

In the artsy town of Collioure

One night, on our way up to the Atlas Bar on the 10th floor for our evening apéro—“Parisians” (champagne cocktails) for them, Perrier for moi—an elegant couple entered the elevator. Dad, captivated by the woman’s beaded jacket, flashed me a mischievous look before swiping at a string of dangling beads on the back. Unbeknownst to the glamorous fashionista and her civilized companion, the beads swayed innocently. I almost died!

“Dad!!!” was our not-so-indignant response to every mischievous word or deed coming from our papa chéri.

One particularly poignant evening balanced out these daily shenanigans. Over dinner, we asked Dad about his time in the Air Force, when we were with him in the Philippines, after he married Mom and adopted Heidi. He told us very little about the Vietnam War, but his visible sadness spoke volumes. As we quietly contemplated Dad’s words, a passenger from a nearby table appeared. “Thank you, Sir, for your service,” she said, simply. There followed a cosmic lull: time stood still. Next I knew my sisters had tears in their eyes. I felt a ball form in my throat imagining the full impact of war—on those targeted and those sent out to target others. Glancing over at Dad, I saw tears in his eyes for the first time.

In addition to so many tragic losses, there was the fallout among families, too. As Kelley dried her tears, I reminded her of something our Mom (Heidi’s and mine) often says when we feel sadness about the breakup of our family. According to Jules, “If it wasn’t for the divorce, we would have never gotten our precious Kelley!” (who toddled joyfully into this world after Dad remarried and who, all grown up now, became our compass on this trip, handling all the logistics and guiding us through the ports).

That emotional night brought a tender closeness to the rest of our chanceux father-daughter journey. As we disembarked from the ship, we felt a wave of gratitude for the way this time together had fortified our family ties. The sunny ports of the Mediterranean were enchanting, but it was the shared stories, laughter, and meaningful moments with Dad that made our trip shine. We raise our glasses to those memories, now, Tchin! Tchin!—and to our papa chéri.

***

Post Note: Papa chéri in French translates to "sweet dad." You might say our would-be Sugar Daddy T-shirts are fitting after all! :-)

Me, Kelley, Dad, and Heidi. Thanks again, Susie, for recommending this outstanding cruise company. We toasted to you every night--including White Night, which is a tradition onboard. (It was the chance to wear my wedding dress once again!)

COMMENTS
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FRENCH VOCABULARY

Audio File: Click here to listen to the French terms below 

la croisière = cruise
le séjour = stay
gastronomique = gourmet
la gourmandise = treats
le pourboire = tip
le saumon fumé = smoked salmon
la pâtisserie = pastry, cake
Le Petit Train = the Little Train
le Vieux Port = the Old Port
la nièce = niece
ouistiti! = say cheese!
la trousse de toilette = toiletry kit
le tête-à-tête = one-on-one conversation
amusante = funny
le barista = a person who serves coffee in a coffee bar
lécher les vitrines = window shopping (literally "lick the windows")
chanceux = lucky
l’apéro (m) = pre-dinner drink
moi = me
papa chéri= sweet Dad, darling Dad
chanceux = lucky
tchin! tchin! = cheers

REMERCIEMENTS
With sincere thanks to the following readers for their recent donations. Your continued support brings life to this journal and keeps it going. Merci du fond du cœur! — Kristi

Susan G.
Holly R.-J.
Carol Lynn S.

My son picked up "Words in a French Life" at one of our Little Free Libraries here in Shorewood, Wisconsin. I treat myself to a chapter every morning and dream of being transported! Thank you! --Carol Lynn

You can see our ship in the distance, off the shore of Collioure 

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Look who's back! Jean-Marc has returned from New Zealand. Today, read about the sweet reunion while learning several new French words and phrases. Photo taken on Tongariro.

TODAY’S WORD: " LA BANDEROLE"

    : banner 

Are you an expat and need to file your US tax return? I am using Expatfile again this year to complete all tax forms quickly and easily and I highly recommend it. Click here.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

On the eve of American Mother’s Day (which differs from La Fêtes des Mères here in France if only by the date) our matriarch Jules was up all night, busy contemplating the sky. Lying in her cozy bed, gazing out la baie vitrée beyond the pine trees to a patch of sky blanketing our sleepy seaside town, Mom was guessing the exact celestial location of her beau-fils, who, after 3 months away, was en route from New Zealand to France.

“I didn’t sleep all night!” Mom said, excited to see her “Number 1 Son” as she calls him. It was rare for Mom to appear on my doorstep before noon, but this was not a normal day. “What time will he be here?!” Jules pressed.
“Mom! I’ve told you many times. Jean-Marc touches down in Marseille at 10:15 a.m. By the time he goes through immigration, collects his bags, clears customs, and meets Max for the drive home, it will be noon.”

“Grandma, I need your help with the Welcome Home banner,” Jackie said, diverting her grand-mère’s attention. It was my daughter’s idea to create une banderole, but we didn’t have many craft supplies and we were running out of time. Shouldn’t we put our energy into something more reasonable—like making dessert for our reunion lunch?

“Oh, Mom. Come on! We’ll figure it out. Where are the felt tip pens?” 
“They’re upstairs,” I relented. “I’ll get them….”

Motion has a way of stirring creative thought and by the time I reached the top of the stairs, boom! It hit me. A roll of wax paper. Ça fera l’affaire! Returning with the pens, I grabbed some papier de cuisson from the drawer beneath the microwave and unrolled 4 feet of wax paper.

“Will you write the sign?” Jackie asked.  
“But you are the one with the pretty handwriting!” Realizing this was no time to dawdle, I accepted the honor and sketched the words “Welcome Home” in all caps before grandmother and granddaughter went to work decorating l’affiche. Jackie drew the mountains Jean-Marc had climbed (Taranaki and Tongariro) on one side and, in the center, she doodled a partial world map joining France and New Zealand via a dotted line with an airplane flying midway along les points.

Jules, who normally paints scenes using her palette knife, paused for several moments holding a foreign object in her hand: a Sharpie. To Mom, a pen was something you wrote with; nevertheless, she painted, this time, with words:

“Jean-Marc is the Greatest Son in the World!” she exclaimed, in one stroke, and “I love my beautiful son!! XOXO Mom” in another. A final flourish read, simply “I love you” (enclosed in a pink heart). 

A bright yellow orb shone from the right side of la banderole. Beside le soleil the words SO PROUD OF YOU! summed up our collective message. Finally, to the lower right, I carved out an old-fashioned heart with our initials JM + K. Voilà our heartfelt banner–and there I’d thought it would be a complicated project. Sometimes you’ve got to trust in la spontanéité. Speaking of which…the queen of spontaneity had an idea:

“Here, take my credit card and go buy some of those little patisseries at the baker!” Just like that, Jules had graciously solved our dessert dilemma. Meantime, Jackie could not find any balloons but located some sparklers and attached them to a bottle of rosé to be carried out as the family sang Bienvenue, Papa! 

We had just pulled everything together, including the cake run, when we heard voices in the garden--and those weren't the neighborhood cats. Max came in first, in time to hurry over to la banderole and add a final message for his dad: it read “Vigneron du monde!” (Worldwide Wine Maker!) En effet, if Jean-Marc had left for New Zealand in the first place, it was for more than climbing mountains, he was there to help a team of winemakers as well as to reach new summits in his own wine path: he even managed to make 50 liters of rosé on the side. (Unfortunately, there was too much sugar in the grapes or this would have been his 5th batch of Ephemera: a series of ephemeral wines he makes now and then, from various locations: Willamette Valley, OR,  USA, Etna, Sicily, Italy, and Provence, France).

His own ephemeral journey over, here he was now, in the flesh, our Chief Grape! He had dropped 4 kilos but that mischievous grin was bigger than ever as he stood there on the threshold of our home. Ricci ran up, and we all held our collective breath. Would she recognize the disheveled voyager? After all, we had recently adopted her before Jean-Marc left for New Zealand. 

Our little shepherd approached cautiously until a warm recognition came over her. Ça y est. Son maitre était de retour! With that, the room erupted in cheers:

“Bienvenue, Papa!”
“Papouche!!”
“Welcome home, Chérito!”
“There’s my son!”
“Woof! woof!”

Jean-Marc’s eyes glassed over as he hugged each of us, deeply touched by the warm welcome. “Merci pour ce chaleureux accueil. Merci, merci, c’est gentil,” he repeated, his voice full of emotion. In the distance, the colorful banner added extra cheer, reminding me of the spontaneous joy that comes from following a loving hunch. Bravo, Jackie, for the symbolic banderole. It will be a tradition from here on out, wax paper and all!

***

Post Note: After the heartfelt reunion everyone ran to the beach to jump into the sea—everyone, except Grandma, Ricci, and me. As my husband often reminds me, "Just do what you want to do!" Chacun fait ce qu’il a envie de faire! I leave you with that little bit of Chief Grape wisdom, along with a touch of my own (learned from a French grammar teacher in college): “There are exceptions to every rule.” Do what you want to do—go to the party or don’t if you don’t want to, but know when you must go.

This is how my husband and I were able to give each other the freedom to pursue our personal interests these past three months. He climbed mountains, and I dove deep into my own challenging and rewarding pursuits, including writing and caring for my Mom. This together-apart fusion reminds me of the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry:

“Aimer, ce n'est pas se regarder l'un l'autre, c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction.”

Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction. 

Jackie and Jules, our resident artists working on the Welcome Home banderole. All that was missing was a paw print from Ricci! What could we have used for that? Half a beet? Spontaneity says It's not too late to add it now.

COMMENTS
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Corrections are welcome and appreciated.

REMERCIEMENTS
Sincere thanks to readers for sending in a donation towards creating this French word journal. Your support makes such a difference and I appreciate it!

Chuck V.
Carol L.
Mazzie W.
Debra M.

Jean-Marc and Ricci's reunion, followed by our dog's first swim!  

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

Click here to listen to the French words and expressions banderole

La Fête des Mères = Mother's Day

la baie vitrée = bay window

le beau-fils = son-in-law

la grand-mère = grandmother

une banderole = a banner

la spontanéité = spontaneity

le soleil = the sun

le papier de cuisson = wax paper

l’affiche = the poster

les points = the points (the dots)

Vigneron du monde = Worldwide Wine Maker

Ça fera l’affaire = That will do the trick

Ça y est = There it is

Son maître était de retour = Her master was back

Chérito = (a term of endearment, similar to "dear" or "darling")

le chaleureux accueil = warm welcome

Chacun fait ce qu’il a envie de faire = Everyone does what they want to do

Aimer, ce n'est pas se regarder l'un l'autre, c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction = Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction

Félicitations, Chief Grape, for following your dreams to New Zealand and making wine.

PROVENCE WINE TOURS
Jean-Marc is back and ready to begin his Provence Wine Tours. Contact him to reserve a date at [email protected]


Jean-Marc on the top of Taranaki. Where will he go next?

Wait! Maybe it's time for me and mom to travel next! (I'm only dreaming. We are still waiting for Mom's health insurance to renew so she can get to the bottom of her current health issues. So I have made this hopeful poster/dream board of the two of us, to look at until this dream comes true!)

Some friendly characters encountered back in the Southwest, USA.

BLOSSOMING IN PROVENCE BOOK REVIEW by PERFECTLY PROVENCE
"The book’s chapters weave through the realities of being a mother, wife, and daughter living in an adopted country with different rules, cultural norms and language nuances." Read Carolyne Kauser-Abbott's review of Blossoming in Provence.

TODAY'S FRENCH WORD: Un câlin

    : a hug

Rien ne vaut le sentiment d'être avec sa famille--et un câlin.
Nothing is worth the feeling of being with one's family--and a hug.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Salut! Ça va? My two-week congé is over and I am home now in France--back to the murmur of French, to the scent of the Mediterranean Sea, to bright yellow mimosa and extended family. Sunday's cousinade, or gathering with the cousins near Aix-en-Provence was a joyous occasion even if I am still queasy with le décalage horaire. Surely jetlag was responsible for the confusion when my aunt-in-law, Annie, said I could set down the dirty dishes dans le potager. Now for me, potager means "vegetable garden," but who am I to question the authority of une véritable countrywoman?

Balancing a stack of dessert plates I was headed to the garden when doubt stopped me in my tracks. This time I consulted Cousin Sabine…
"Dit, Annie tells me the dirty dishes go in the potager???"

"Ah," Sabine laughed, "Maman is referring to le comptoir! We call that le potager. Voilà dear reader, an old-fashioned term for you the next time you're referring to the kitchen counter!

I spent a lot of time at the kitchen counter--er, le potager--back in the States, where my daughter Jackie and I had the chance to spend time with our American family. This short and sweet réunion de famille began with a brief stop in Denver, where my sister Heidi nurtured us back from desynchronosis or time zone syndrome. While filling up on everything from homemade tacos to spaghetti and meatballs, I savored time with my nephew and niece, Payne and Reagan, who came home from college CU Boulder for a visit before Jackie and I ubered back to the airport, direction Californie. I was headed to the desert on a very specific mission: to hug my dad.

From cousinade to "calinade"
While family back home often reassure me the phone is marvelous technology, rien ne vaut une bonne câlinade--nothing compares to holding your loved ones close. So, after, several calins back in Colorado, it was time to hug a few more family members. My little sister, Kelley flew in from Washington State, followed by Heidi, and we spent 4 memorable days in Palm Springs with Dad and belle-mère Marsha, enjoying lots of time at le potager, chatting at the kitchen counter, and lots and lots of hugs! But the best was seeing Dad looking so fit, healthy, and happy, grâce à son épouse, Marsha, who is also a doting hostess to us girls. And it was great to finally enjoy our "coffee with Kristi" as Dad calls our father-daughter chats, in the same room instead of on different continents, technology permitting.

Over breakfast of fruit and Raisin Bran, I watched Dad toss blueberries directly from the carton into his bowl. "Dad, don’t you wash the pesticides off those berries?" My father smiled: “I think the body does a good job sorting these things out.  I'm not worried.” I like Dad's relaxed attitude and realize all the stress of keeping my food clean is more harmful than a handful of unwashed berries. It's these bits of no-nonsense wisdom—and Dad’s endearing presence I miss so much...and the fact I can’t see the blueberries--those little things he does daily that speak of his philosophie de vie. So I soak in as much together time as possible and make a vow with my sisters to visit more often.

While chasing each other in golf carts, accompanying Dad and Jasper to the dog Park, or gathering around the potager/comptoir…we all seized the chance to laugh, shed a few tears, and encourage each other. All of these are important for an expatrié, for anyone living an ocean apart from loved ones. Yes, the telephone is a marvelous invention (and Whatsapp and FaceTime, too) but those warm hugs are vital. Rien ne vaut un bon câlin!

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Heidi, Me, Kelley, Dad, Marsha, and Jackie.

A sister sleepover, with Heidi (center) and Kelley (right)

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

First study the French terms below, then click here to listen to them

salut = hi
ça va = how are you?
la cousinade = reunion of cousins
le décalage horaire = time difference, jet lag
le potager = kitchen garden, kitchen counter (in old Provençal)
dit = tell me
la réunion de famille = family reunion
la câlinade = a made up word for hug fest
le câlin = hug
la belle-mère = stepmother (can also mean mother-in-law)
la Californie = California
grâce à son épouse = thanks to his wife
la philosophie de vie = life philosophy 
rien ne vaut = nothing equals 

REMERCIEMENTS/ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 
With much appreciation for your donations to my French word journal. Merci beaucoup! 

Odile G.
Dan St G.
Sherry P.
Bill and Mary
Martha and Charles M.

Thanks again for your blog and amazing photos. Odile

I look forward to reading your stories and looking at the beautiful photos, and appreciate the time and care that you put into trying to make everything just right. Be of good courage! Peace and all good, Sherry

Love the blog and stories of life. It's also a good media for Martha & I to keep up with you folks. Thanks again for all the good reads. Charlie and Martha

RELATED POSTS
Don't miss the story about my belle-mère, Marsha.
And a favorite memory "Joie de Vivre" about Dad's visit to La Ciotat

In addition to seeing my family, the scent of the desert and its familiar landscape brought me back to my roots. This year marks 30 years since I said "I do" and permanently moved to France from the Arizona Desert.

By the time the leaves turn gold in Lyon, we'll be meeting up with part of my American family. Read about our virtual meetup in today's story, and pick up a host of new French words.

TODAY’S WORD: UNE FAUTE DE FRAPPE

    : typing error,
    : error made when hitting the wrong button

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

I wish I had a written transcript of our accidental family video chat, week before last. The surprising live conference began when my dad tried ringing me via Messenger and, d’un coup, several family members burst onto the screen--POP! POP! POP!--one by one appearing before us en temps réel...

POP! - My little sister manifested from her living room in Washington State. I could almost hear the crabs snapping their claws on Shaw Island where Kelley and her husband Brad (also visible) catch them.

POP! - And there was my daughter in Lyon, hair tied back and wearing stylish non-prescription glasses. Was she at school?

POP! - Then suddenly my husband popped onto l’écran! Beyond Jean-Marc's seatbelt, just past his left shoulder, I could see the familiar landscape of the Southern French Alps as he drove north for a week of hiking and biking. 

These sudden POPS were followed by a couple of POTENTIAL POPS as Jules, Heidi, Max, my nephew Payne, and niece Reagan were being automatically dialed up in La Ciotat, Denver, and Boulder. Mon Dieu! I felt the need to warn my mother and my sister of their imminent exposure. Au fait.... Was Mom entirely dressed? (Slim chance in this heatwave!) And Heidi…Just where would she be? Hopefully not in the W.-C.! No use transferring my own insecurities onto others--besides it was too late, here we were, THE ORIGINAL POPS, staring at each other, wondering what the heck had just happened. Indeed, qu'est-ce qui vient de se passer?

UNE FAUTE DE FRAPPE...
"Hi Dad. Hi Everyone!" I giggled. “Dad, did you accidentally hit the ‘Family’ tab?” (That's the name of our Messenger chat group. We use it for sending each other photos, updates, and milestones. But this time, with his unintentional frappe, Dad was teleporting his kin into a live conference!)

"I don't know,” my father replied, in his characteristic innocence and étonnement. “I was just trying to call you." Dad was referring to our weekly appel, the one he’s affectionately dubbed "Coffee with Kristi”, but today's call with all the gang was more like Happy Hour! All we needed was champagne… and sparkling water pour moi.

As we smiled at each other, a little tongue-tied from the surprise, Brad chimed in with news about his and Kelley's upcoming visit to France, and would Jackie be available to dine with them in Lyon? 

Jackie lit up, "Oh, I’d love to! Avec plaisir!" And just like that the screen came alive with conversation.

I sat back and enjoyed seeing my family’s faces, thinking it amazing how quickly we’d all showed up to this unscheduled party. And how easy it would be to reach everyone again if ever in need or—soyons fous!—just spontaneously.

Maybe that’s what Dad was thinking when he “accidentally” hit the wrong button and POP! POP! POP! POP! he got a sudden burst of smiling faces in return. It all just goes to show that, sometimes, it pays to throw caution to the wind… and hit the Family Button.

This one's for you, Dad, OUR ORIGINAL POP❤️.  

COMMENTS
To leave a comment, or to read one, click here. My Dad, who is hopefully reading, enjoys a brief weather report so please include one along with the city you’re writing in from. Merci. Click here to comment.

Une faute de frappe led to everyone in this picture (except Max) being virtually teleported into our live video conference. Left to right: Max, Dad, Brad, my belle-mère Marsha, Jackie, Kelley, Me, and Jean-Marc. 

Below: A screenshot of the message I sent after our chat ended. (Re “Marsha joined the chat”: Dad shares his account with my belle-mère Marsha.)

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

Click here to listen to the French words

une faute de frappe = a typing error
d’un coup = all at once, in one go
en temps réel = real time, instantly
l'écran = computer, phone screen
Mon Dieu! = My God!
le W.-C. = water closet (bathroom)
au fait = by the way
Qu'est-ce qui vient de se passer? = what just happened?
un appel = phone call
l’étonnement = surprise
pour moi = for me
avec plaisir = with pleasure
Soyons fous = be a little wild, be a little crazy
la belle-mère = stepmother

REMERCIEMENTS

Mille mercis to the readers listed below who have recently sent in blog donations, or purchased our memoir--or bought postcards! Your contributions go a long way in not only backing this journal but also in inspiring me to maintain my writing momentum during the summer break. Your support means a lot, and I'm truly grateful. Amicalement, Kristi

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Joan L.
Patty C.
Leslie B.
Judith L.
Sandra D.
Kitty W.P.
Suzanne P.
Jacquelin H.
Marshall & Caroline M.

"Our dear Kristi, wishing you & Jackie many more delightful getaways! xox" Patty C.

"…avec des câlins pour la façon dont vos splendides écrits nous enrichissent." Kitty W.P.

My son Max, up to his usual shenanigans--cuz Mom can't have enough hats!

End of winter in La Ciotat. By the way, have you ever wondered how to pronounce the name of our town? Listen to the sound file and find out....

I loved the French word bisette the moment I learned it and am using it now in email endings in place of "amicalement" (unless you are the IRS or some such other). See an example at the end of this post. 

TODAY'S FRENCH WORD: bisettes

    : kisses
    
synonyms for bisette include bécot (peck) and bise (kiss)

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

My goal is to write one essay per week chronicling our family life in France. But how to pick among the many little happenings both meaningful and dull? It isn't that our life is exciting, it's that when I look back decades from now I hope to have captured the right fragments de vie--enough to ignite more memories.

This may be why I ditched today's essay on sourdough starter . Levain! While the topic has enraptured my mind, I'm betting it isn't something you (or Future Me) are passionate about. So for today, I've decided to do a photo essay instead--and update us all on my family. Let's begin with Chief Grape...

Jean-Marc. This man...in his favorite T-shirt and doing a puzzle...Do you remember when we called him "Chief Grape"--after he took on his first vineyard? Two vineyards and one wine shop later, my husband is still pursuing wine, c-à-d, he is doing a little bit of export and offering personalized wine tours (contact him at [email protected] if you are interested in a wine tour). Jean-Marc is also excited to be making more wine in 2023 via two more Ephemera wine projects in France.


Max. Our 27-year-old swung by this week to dig up some plants from our garden to use chez lui. Jules and I helped Max transfer irises, rosemary, a baby aloe vera, and an avocado plant into these terracotta pots. Next, our aspiring green thumb invited Mom and me back to his condo, which Jules could not stop raving about. She loved the couch. She loved the kitchen. She loved the dining table. And she would love to babysit the place next time Max is out of town. Hint, hint, hint, if you're reading this Max....

My firstborn and me.

Jackie. Our 25-year-old is settled now in Lyon. She's finished the first week of computer school and is finding her way around. Jackie spent the cash Jules gave her on this lively plant which, désormais, will be called "Neptune" (after Jackie's interest in outer space. The unfathomable size of space is comforting as it puts life's stresses into perspective, according to J.).


 Jules a.k.a. Mama Jules or Mom is doing a little better after overdoing it. These flowers are for her. Mom's recent walk turned into a chase when she tried to help an errant photographer capture the right model (a certain exotic pedestrian and her prize dog who slipped the photographer's notice and were now halfway to the Vieux-Port). But by the time Jules caught up to the would-be mannequin it was too late--the spontaneous moment was lost, and the photographer was long gone.). Now Mom is recovering in bed, dreaming of her own camera. I think Jules would be an excellent street photographer. Don't you?


Getting some vitamin D with Lili the cat, and enjoying the "tidy" part of our garden after JM and I carried hundreds of buckets of gravel, over the past week, to this area of the jardin. Now to keep the leaves off of it. (The wine barrels will be used to grow tomatoes.)

I hope you enjoyed today's photo update (or maybe an essay on yeast would've been more to your liking?). I leave you with my new favorite French word and hope you'll get a lot of use out of it in your emails or internet correspondence. I'm off now to geek out over some sourdough starter. It's like a whole galaxy in a jar!

Grosses bisettes,

Kristi

A galaxy in a jar. It is amazing how flour + water = levain, or sourdough starter. I love the idea of "harvesting yeast" from the air, from the flour, from who knows where. In only 4 days the flour/water fermentation was active enough to use in some bread dough and the resulting loaf was delicious. (photo from a previous go at sourdough)

NEVER MISS A POST
Follow me on Instagram or here on Facebook to ensure you are receiving the weekly posts (which don't always end up in your emails--owing to filters, a full inbox, and other issues beyond our control). Thanks for reading and on with the French word for the day... 


FRENCH VOCABULARY
Listen to the following list via this audio recording:

Click here for the audio file

La Ciotat = a town near Cassis, in southern France
bisettes = kisses
amicalement = yours
le bécot = kiss, peck
la bise = kiss
les fragments de vie = pieces of life
le levain = starter, sourdough starter
c-à-d (c'est-à-dire) = that is to say
désormais = from now on
le mannequin = model
grosses bisettes = big kisses

Jules's wild doves, Mama (left, with the white feather on her left wing...) and Papa. 


Lili the cat having a siesta on the side porch, near the shoe rack beside our front door.

Wishing you a Joyeuse St. Valentin today, as this journal won't go out on Valentine's Day. In the meantime, please follow me here on Instagram. Merci!

Today's Word: chapeau bas

    : hats off!, bravo!

When we say "chapeau bas!" we recognize the merit or the value of someone

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.

Click here for the MP3 soundfile


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE
Kristi Espinasse

Carefully entering Jules' studio, I notice Mom seems relaxed. Last night when we parted we were both froissées. The subject of our little clash, our escarmouche?: a project Mom shared with me, one she was excited about before I added mon grain de sel...and dried up her enthusiasm. 

(Not to worry, Dear Reader. The Universe, or Our Heavenly Father, as I like to refer to that mysterious force guiding us all--would straighten me out, tôt ou tard. And I reminded Mom of that much, lest she thinks I am blind to my own faults. It never fails to amaze me how we must learn the lessons we so forcefully try to teach others.).

Tiptoeing over to Mom's bed in the corner of her studio, I asked if I might sit down. "Sure, grab some pillows," Jules said, straightening her wool hat. She was wearing a down-feathered coat, too, which meant she was leaving all the windows open again, en hiver, to accommodate our old dog who now lives chez elle. "He gets too hot in here," Mom explained. Just when I thought Mom, who brought us up in the Sonoran desert, would never get used to this colder climate, here she is bundling up for another's comfort. Chapeau bas! Mom has my full respect (even if she doesn't always know it).

Smokey shuffled up to the bedside, his queue wagging in that special way of his. "There goes that helicopter tail," Mom smiled, patting our golden retriever on the head.  With that, Old Smokey backed up several yards... and charged forward, picking up enough speed to hoist himself onto the bed. If only his helicopter tail could lift his body (just as it lifts our spirits)! 

"I'm going to need to lower my bed. Smokey is getting too old to jump up here." 

"Yes, we'll do that, Mom," I said gently. And, on saying so, I became of aware of a lot of "Yes, we'll dos" that we haven't yet dones:

We'll do the art supply store (to get some needed "medium" for Mom's paints)
We'll do the bus terminal... (to look into a bus pass for Mom)
We'll do Van Life (one wish of Jules's is to hit the road with Smokey and me. Oh the places we would see!)

"Are you leaving this afternoon for the mountains?" Mom asked, waking me from my rêverie (in which the three of us were cramped in a van, looking for yet another road stop W.-C.).

"Uh...oh yes, we’ll  be away 3 days."

"Why don't you take ski lessons this time?" Jules was right. At 54, it was never too late for me to learn to ski. 

(I would like to preface the next few paragraphs by pointing out that I may have misunderstood or misremembered Mom's ski tips, so if anything seems off, blame the writer and not the instructor...)

"Roll your ankles when you want to turn," Mom began, and with that Jules offered an on-the-fly ski lesson from bed, where, with her woolen hat and doudoune she was already dressed the part of La Monitrice de Ski.

Tip No. 2 had something to do with the skis' edges. "Put all your weight down on them to turn. And remember your ankles!" Tip No. 3 "Lean forward!" and Tip 4 "Get an instructor whom you don't know. And one that's cute!"

Mom reminded me that when everybody else goes off to ski, instead of ambling around town in the cold... waiting to join my family for lunch, I could be taking lessons. 

"This can be your secret," Mom concluded. "Never share your dreams or people will stomp on them!"

Oups! It was clear Mom was still smarting from last night's mère-fille melee. If there was any tension in the room now, Smokey felt it first. I watched as his gray-whiskered face moved back and forth from mother to daughter, anticipating what would happen next.... 

"Mom!" I said. "I didn't mean to stomp on your dreams. I only wanted to help you with the details. I realize now that you weren't asking for my help, you only wanted me to listen and to share your enthusiasm. I get it."

And I realize I want the same when I share my plans with others (my husband, Mr. Fixit, comes to mind...).  That's what we all want, isn't it? For someone to listen to our dreams, our goals, our projects...and not interfere via their own doubts, negativity, or concerns.

“..and if they do have anything to say," Mom added, "let it be uplifting. Always lift people up!”

Chapeau bas, Maman! You are one lovely human. With that Smokey's queue began spirling again. Mr. Helicopter Tail seemed to agree, wholeheartedly.

**
Post note: I didn't take ski lessons when we visited our daughter, in the Alps last weekend. I think I need a few more pointers from Mom, first. 


More photos from our trip in my Instagram gallery

FRENCH VOCABULARY
froisser = to offend, to hurt
froissé = hurt
une escarmouche = skirmish
mon grain de sel = my two cents' worth
en hiver = in winter
chez elle = at her place
chapeau bas! = hats off!
la queue = tail
le W.-C. = toilette
le moniteur/la monitrice = ski instructor
la doudoune = down jacket
oups! = whoops!

My Mom, Jules, in her studio with Smokey. 

A flower shop in Sospel, France. The hearts in the fleuriste's window hint at today's word. The story below reveals the full meaning. Enjoy two sound files in today's post and thank you for sharing this journal with a friend.

Today's Word: s'épancher

    : to pour out one's heart

Example Sentence and Sound File
Retenir ses larmes, voilà bien, selon moi, le comble du " charnel " ; car lorsqu'on refuse à son coeur de s'épancher, le chagrin ne s'ancre-t-il pas en nous, pesant comme un fardeau? To hold back one's tears is, in my opinion, the height of the "carnal"; for when one refuses to let one's heart out, does not grief become anchored in us, weighing us down like a burden? -Jostein Gaarder, author of Sophie's World

Click to hear the quote in French

A DAY in a FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
"Life Unraveling as it Should"

I was blowdrying my hair when Mom knocked on the bathroom door.

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going to stay home," Jules said. I noticed she was hunched over.

Our plans were now changing and this rattled me--especially as I had waited an extra hour to wake up Mom (had I known she wasn't coming with me, I'd have left for the grocery store earlier). In my frustration, I couldn't help but wonder whether Mom was really sick or did she just want to ditch the shopping errand and get back in bed?

"Mom, stand up straight!" I said, assessing the situation. I had never seen her hunched like that and wanted it to stop. (My own kids have a similar reaction when I am not brimming with health. They don't ever want to see their parents weak.)

"I'm not going to the store," Mom put her foot down.
 
"Well, I don't want to go to the store either!" I announced.

"Then don't go," Mom challenged.  

"But I have to!"

In the 30-second standoff that followed, huffs and puffs could be heard...followed by a move on the more mature one's part:

"Here," Mom said, waving some cash.

"No. You keep it!" I thought Mom was giving me pocket money again. If she had 50 dollars to her name, she'd still give us l'argent de poche--no matter our age, for the joy it brings.  

"Just get me some grape juice and bread please."

"Don't worry. I'll get a bunch of goodies," I said, thanking Mom for le flouze.

When I got into my car I saw Mom walking toward me from her studio, reminding me to bring her the pommes de terre I'd cooked earlier. She needed them to make the fried potatoes we were having for lunch. I got out of the car, walked back to the house (pausing to pet our old dog) then back around the house, to Mom's place, patates en main.


                                 Mom's hand resting on Smokey

"Oh, and the bacon..." Mom reminded. Right, les lardons! I hurried back around the house (pausing to pet Smokey) unlocked the front door, ran to the kitchen...then back to Mom's.

(Old Smokey needed more pats on the way back. And because his time is limited, I had to slow down.)

Finally, in my car, seatbelt on.... and zut! I forgot my phone! Oh, leave it. No, you need it or you'll forget what's on your list... One more dash back to the house, and up the stairs to my room.... I sensed at that moment that all the va-et-vient, though annoying, amounted to Life unraveling as it should.

***

At Monoprix supermarket I took a deep breath. You're here now. Take your time. Get what you need. You can catch up with everything else later....

In the frozen food aisle, a petite woman with soft platinum curls approached me. "Pardonnez-moi. Je cherche les épinards."

"Oh, spinach... there it is," I said, walking with Madame over to the display: "il y a des épinards en branches, épinards hachées, épinards à la crème fraîche...."

"Merci beaucoup," she said, "You are so kind. You are so kind."

"Oh. I only showed you where the spinach was," I smiled.

"I'm so lost." Madame said suddenly. "My husband just passed away. I don't know why I am telling you this."    

I stood there holding her gaze and reached for her arm. The widow now held on to mine. 

"And I lost my daughter. She was 45...."

"Oh, I am so sorry! I am...holding you in my heart," was all I could think to say. We stood there in our flimsy paper masks, clinging to each other. I gently squeezed la veuve's arm, hoping the tender gesture would make up for a lack of words.

"Merci, merci, vous êtes gentille," the widow repeated. 

"I will be here shopping for a while,” I assured her. “If you need me, je suis dans les parages."

I continued shopping, glancing here and there for the lost soul, but the widow had vanished. 

***

Back at home Mom was much better (hmmm....) and after lunch we sat together in the sunshine, Mom popping up from time to time to show me her ideas for our garden: “And I'm going to have Max dig a trench here and one there for flowers! Lots of flowers!”

Mom sat back down in her favorite papillon chair, looked over at me at snickered. "Stand up straight! I used to tell you girls that when you were little."

Obviously, somebody was still irritated by the comment I made earlier. "Mom, I'm sorry if I was harsh with you," I apologized. “That was just Fear talking. I didn't want you to be sick. And also, I get frustrated when plans change. And then I had a hard time getting out the door. Back and forth, back and forth."

"To and fro, to and fro, like the Holy Spirit," Mom smiled, in reference to our celestial helper.

It dawned on me then that every little change, every empêchement in my schedule, added up to the chance encounter with a stranger in need. It is a lesson the universe continues to teach: Everything is unfolding as it should, setbacks and all. Just trust that you are in the right place at the right time, right now. (And always be respectful and loving to your Mom!)

Jules. My beautiful Mom.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to the French terms below

s'épancher = to pour out one'sheart
la pomme de terre = potato
les patates en main = potatoes in hand
le lardon = bacon strip
l'argent de poche = pocket money, spending money
le flouze = cash
zut = shoot!
va-et-vient = back-and-forth
épinards en branches, hachées, à la crème fraîche =
je suis dans les parages = I’m in the area
Vous êtes gentille = you are kind
Merci beaucoup = thank you
un empêchement = a delay

Words missing from the sound file:
le/la fleuriste = florist, flower shop
le papillon = butterfly (read about Mom's butterfly chair)

I leave you with a photo from the archives, from the story «Faire Bisquer » (to rile someone) 

A new window, or "vitrine", at Jean-Marc's wine shop. It depicts the local coastline, including Cassis!

Zut! There's a blooper, une gaffe, at the end of today's sound file. Listen for Jean-Marc, who tells me I've made two mistakes. Hear all the French vocabulary in today's story when you click on the link, below:

Audio file, click here

Conciliabule
(kohn-see-lya-bewl)
: conventicle

Conciliabule--what a cool word in French! A "conventicle" is a secret meeting of nonconformists, and it's perfect for today's missive about a recent family pow wow. Synonyms in French or English for consiliabule: tête-à-tête, conversation, entretien, chat, meeting, discussion

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
Our 3-Generation Household & La Thérapie Familiale

If ever there were 5 adult family members more challenged for multigenerational living, c'est nous! What with one ex-winemaker and wine shop owner (Jean-Marc), one bartender (Jackie), one wine salesman (Max), one wine thief (Grandma), and one teetotaler (moi...), le conflit est inévitable—even if booze has nothing to do with it. 

One thing we've been needing to do with is our new living arrangement. A recent visit to Jean-Marc's cave à vin provided an opportunity for such a meeting (which I like to call pow-wow if only to slip in one more English term for my kids to learn).

"What is a pow wow?" our son asks, stumped.

"C'est une réunion familiale," I answer, flustered to be speaking bad French when I mean to speak English to my kidults. Seated around a table at Le Vin Sobre, my husband’s wine shop in La Ciotat, we're here to support Jean-Marc in his latest inspiration: une pause déjeuner for customers interested in a simple lunch option at the store.  All family members are present, except Grandma, who is siesting at home (no worries, our wine cellar is locked!).

Last night’s storm has left us feeling out of sorts, so maybe this isn't the time for the conciliabule I have in mind but, with 5 strong personalities now living together (2.5 of us have short tempers and the other 2.5 wish to avoid conflict at all costs),  je me lance!:

"I need help cleaning la salle de bain!" I say.

One of our tribe, the elder fiston, speaks up, arguing that if the bathroom is already propre, why clean it? I feel my blood begin to boil. If it's clean, that's because I keep cleaning it!

Later, at home, after our tummies are full (blood sugar intact) there’s another attempt at group communication and already 2 of us (mother and son) are wrestling with a resurfaced rancune. "Would you please back me up?" I say, glaring at our Chief, who remains bouche cousue. This is not how I imagined our do-it-yourself family therapy session! Maybe we needed outside help?

Max and I managed to work it out all on our own, and what a relief it was. "OK,” I agreed, “I will work on being less controlling if you will work on...." (I let my son fill in the blank)...

"...not losing my patience," Max agreed. Très bien, a successful pow wow at last!

Our 12-year-old golden retriever, Smokey, relaxing in Mom's butterfly chair

Now that the storm is past, instead of grumbling over qui fait quoi I can focus on and appreciate each family member's contribution (even if that doesn't include scrubbing toilets and washing floors...):

My Mom, Jules, waters our garden, and her free spirit (which I am always trying to tame) helps us to lighten up and see life from a creative perspective. Jules also takes good care of her roommate, Smokey, qui veille sur Jules aussi!

My husband, Jean-Marc, takes care of the bureaucratic paperwork we all avoid. Plus he is willing to do anything on my Honey-Do list (if only I'll settle down and write it!).

I take care of the house and yard, do the cooking and try to make everything run smoothly around here by keeping everyone in line when I should probably let go and go with the flow. (But we all should remember the saying: “walk a mile in my shoes!”)

My 26-year-old, Max, is "our supply guy." While on the road as a wine salesman, he sees all sorts of bonnes affaires: from free-for-the picking persimmons to retro bistro chairs (from a wine shop that was tossing them) to a giant antique mirror (found by the side of the road) he gifted Grandma. He's that family member who brings useful/abandoned stuff home for redistribution. Plus, he's a neat freak so he takes care of details I don't think of (like washing down our portable clothesline after the storm).

And my 24-year-old, Jackie, is the peacemaker. Calm, quiet, and thoughtful, she is the listener (and still the dreamer). I am amazed by her ability to simplify and express in words a complex notion or emotion. I've always felt she would be an excellent therapist or advocate given her innate sense of justice. Ironically she is currently recovering from a terrible injustice and this has brought her back to France, to the frenzied fold she escaped years ago.

"Mom," Jackie texted, after I was still spinning from our family meltdown, "everything will be fine, I promise. Everyone is under tension today. Don't blame yourself or anyone. Let's be patient...."

Late that same evening, worn out from emotion as we sat gathered around the salon, I had the last word: “Look, we may not be a perfect family... but would you trade ours for another and maybe a whole other set of problems? We have made it this far and that is a beautiful thing. And right now, at this time in our lives, for various reasons, we are living together again and I believe this is not by coincidence. We all need each other. And, just think, when will we ever have a chance to live together like this again—parents, kids, and Grandma? It’s kind of cool, isn’t it?”

Or, as Jackie said of our multigenerational foyer, “We’re  like an Italian family!” 

We all nodded in appreciation of such exotisme. Yes, indeed. C’est la dolce vita! I think Jules would toast to that...just as she did when she snuck into Jean-Marc’s wine cellar, dragging a neighbor down with her. She must have swiped a very good vintage (Domaine du Banneret, Châteauneuf du Pape?) because when her son-in-law burst into her room the next day, il l’a grondée!

FRENCH VOCABULARY
c'est nous = it's us
le conflit est inévitable = conflit is unavoidable
la cave à vin = wine cellar, wine shop
une réunion familiale = a family gathering
la pause déjeuner = lunch break
conciliabule = discussion, chat, pow-wow
je me lance = I go for it
la salle de bain = bathroom
le fiston = son, boy
propre = clean
la rancune = grudge, resentment, hard feelings
la bouche cousue = tight lipped
qui fait quoi = who does what
veille (veiller) = to take care of
une bonne affaire = a good deal
le salon = living room
C’est la dolce vita = it’s the good life 
il l’a grondée = he reprimanded her!
*At the end of the sound file, Jean-Marc is saying: "voilà 'gronder' c'est 'é'...Ah zut!" (I had spelled it 'gronder'.

A favorite picture of my free-spirited Mom, Jules.

"Take a new road each day," Mom says. Like that, I discovered this quaint, unfamiliar rue on my way to our little Baptist church here in La Ciotat. The vine-flanked ruelle was as peaceful as the photo, with neighbors chatting at a window sill and laundry fluttering in the breeze. 

TODAY'S WORD: un défaut (day-fo)

    : fault, flaw, shortcoming, vice

la curiosité est un vilain défaut = curiosity killed the cat

AUDIO FILE: Listen to Jean-Marc read the French vocabulary in today's post:

Vocabulary List, click here to listen to the French

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Coucou! I love this two-syllable, cozy French greeting for "hello, hiya, hey there, salut"--all very warm ways to reconnect after a brief absence. How did your summer go? Did you thrive or just survive? (Or a combination of the two?)

Ah, c'est la vie! 

That is life indeed and, if you are new here, life or la vie quotidienne is the subject of these posts. Life and all of its joys and absurdities. Because family life is the heart of this journal, now is a good time to reintroduce you to our lovable (mostly--on a tous nos défauts!) cast of characters:

JULES: the matriarch of the family and my mom. Jules came to live with us here in La Ciotat 3 years ago. Time flies and so do her trusty friends: all the neighborhood birds who she feeds. 

JEAN-MARC: a.k.a. "Chief Grape", my French husband, who began two vineyards in Provence. He currently runs a wine shop ("Le Vin Sobre") when he is not plotting his next sport adventure, like a triathlon in Spain

MAX: our 26-year-old son, who had the nerve to choose a career in wine after we made the difficult decision to sell our vineyard! (Now he dreams of having vines of his own!) Meantime, he works near Aix-en-Provence and loves the wine business.

JACKIE: our 23-year-old daughter, born and raised in France and who felt the need to discover her American roots. She currently lives in Miami where she is trying to decide whether to return to Fashion design school, learn finance, move to a new state or return to France....

SMOKEY: our 12-year-old golden retriever who survived a two-dog attack as a puppy. Scars and all, he keeps on trucking--and caring for my Mom (a job he assumed 3 years ago) keeps him going.

MR. SACKS: Jean-Marc's loveable 22-year-old sidekick (see a bunch of pictures of him here)

KRISTI: founder of French Word-A-Day.com, I grew up in Arizona, moved to France in 1992, and began this French word journal ten years later, as a way to carve out a place in my dream profession: writing. Thank you for reading and for keeping me employed!

YOU. Saperlipopette! I nearly left out a most important member of our French Word-a-Day family. YOU. It would mean a lot to all of us here if you would introduce yourself in the comments section below. What city do you call home? What's your favorite past-time? Are you old enough to remember WWII? Thank you. I look forward to reading your words and I thank you for reading mine as I gear up for a new year of postings. Bonne rentrée!

Amicalement,

Kristi

FRENCH VOCABULARY
la rue = street, road
la ruelle = lane, narrow street, back alley
la curiosité est un vilain défaut = curiosity killed the cat
coucou = hey, hi there
salut = hi
c'est la vie = that's life
la vie quotidienne = daily life
on a tous nos défauts! = we all have our faults!
saperlipopette = goodness me! good heavens!
bonne rentrée = have a good fall (happy back-to-school, return from summer)
amicalement = yours (way to sign off a French email or letter)

LA RECETTE DU JOUR: La Tarte Tomate
Visit the tasty recipe archives and discover this most delicious way to use some still-in-season tomatoes. Click here.

Click the recipe link above this photo for easy instructions on how to make a tomato tart.

I leave you with a homey scene from La Ciotat, France. Prenez soin de vous et à bientôt!

Mom and I at the Roussillon Book Fair last September. I didn't have many books to sell... so I dragged Mom to the event to fill up some space.
.
Today's French Word: partager(par-tuh-zhay)
   
    : to share; to divide

Audio clip (Note: the sound file will be away for a while...)
.

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

Ever since mom arrived for a two-month stay I've noticed an ever-so-slight reluctance I feel on the part of sharing things. It began with my trusty slippers: "Here Mom, you can wear these." My husband had left on a two-week business trip; I could just borrow his slippers, I reckoned. Flopping around the house in pantoufles* twice my size, I couldn't help but envy Mom and her fluffy, form-fitting, "foot" digs.

Then there was the hairbrush she needed (I gave her mine and went back to using a comb), the garden shoes (I'm getting by with my son's sandales de piscine*), the camera (pictured, above), and the books (Mom and I have a way of glomming onto the same reading material, so that magazines and books that had up till recently been ignored... now have us asking one another "Are you reading that now? May I have a look for a minute? (hopefully more...)".

Of all the things that we are currently sharing, it is the computer that is most emotionally wearing... Last Monday night Mom accidentally hacked my ordinateur*! On Tuesday I woke up to find myself locked out of the log-in screen. And so the downward spiral began (ending with Le Big Fry, completely unrelated to Le Hack).

Sharing is a virtue that we are taught from a very young age, where jealousy and injustice lurk around every "claimed" corner (This, here, is my turf!). Of all the things we share, perhaps friendship is the most valuable ... So after the slippers, the brush, the garden shoes, the camera, the books, the computer... it looks as though I'm now sharing you, dear reader! Here's a message I found just yesterday, in "our" comments box:

HI TO ALL OF MY FRIENDS -
KRISTI AND I ARE SHARING MAX'S COMPUTER SINCE THE "BIG FRY". I MISS HAVING MY OWN LAPTOP...THEN I WAS ABLE TO CHECK "COMMENTS" several times a day. I miss all of you, Kristi is busy bossing me around, I have managed to meet three new people out in the vineyards surrounding Kristi's house. One a very handsome FRENCHMAN driving a red tractor - collecting all of the old vine stumps that are no longer alive, I waved him to a halt so I could take photos of him dumping the stumps in a giant pile. I managed to extend the normal three kisses on the cheek into kisses each time I felt we had a camera shot worthy of a reward...he.he.he.

Kristi wants to lock me in my room. I also met a beautiful woman from Marocco (sp?) out trimming the vines, I have been taking her a hot cup of tea around 10 a.m. each morning, plus some candy I have swiped from Kristi's STASH. Her name is Alise and she has invited me to her village Rasteau---I think this is supposed to be one of the most beautiful villages in France...I will take photos for all of you and have Kristi post them when I do a little story.
Please pray for me to have the strength to be the MOTHER Kristi needs at this time of her life...
XOXO
JULES
 

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Comments, corrections--and stories of your own--always welcome in the comments box. We love reading your words, too.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~French Vocabulary~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
la pantoufle (f) = slipper; les sandales (f) de piscine = pool sandals; un ordinateur (m) = computer