FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

One of the vocabulary words in today's story is brise-bise, for these charming half-curtains seen across France

TODAY'S WORD: un logiciel

    : software

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Good news! Our daughter will be moving to Lyon to begin a 10-month intensive program in Web Design. Since returning from Miami in September of 2021, Jackie's path has been hit and miss and the highs and lows were beginning to take a toll. So after she completed a 4-week computer coding program, a guidance counselor at Pôle Emploi suggested she apply for an intensive study in Lyon, and this is how Jackie found herself, last week, awaiting the second selection. (16 out of 50 applicants made the first cut.)

While waiting, Jackie found a room in Lyon and did as much as she could to prepare for a potentially imminent departure. Then came the call. She didn't make the second cut.... and then, as fate would have it, they called back...and she was in!

This rollercoaster of emotions came to a peaceful pause Tuesday night. After a quiet knock at the bedroom door, Mama Jules appeared waving a 50-euro billet. Jackie and I were curled up on the bed, spending precious time together before her next-day departure. 

"Buy yourself a nice plant! It will make you feel at home in your new place. And you might think of getting some of those little half-curtains..."

A good idea given Jackie's fenêtre overlooks a busy street. "They're called le brise-bise," I added. 

"Thank you, Grandma!" As Jackie hugged her grandmother, I thought about Jules' perfect timing and her abundant generosity (générosité abondante--is that an oxymoron or a pleonasm? Oh, who cares about WORDS at a time like this! Sometimes GESTURES mark the moment, and I really appreciated Jules's thoughtful housewarming gift for her petite-fille.)

This isn't the first time our Jackie has flown the nest. So why does it get harder each time? And yet it was my eyes that were dry when we parted. My 25-year-old's were full of larmes. "I love you so much I don't want to leave you!" cried our 4-time fledgling.

How to say "ditto" in French? The truth is, I love Jackie so much I don't ever want her to leave le nid familial, and surely that is not the best thing for her. For either of us. So I watched, dry-eyed as she flew off Wednesday afternoon (in fact, she took the train. And lucky for us, Lyon is only a 2-hr train ride from nearby Marseilles).

Back in Jules's studio, a two-second walk from our front door, I am comforted by our daily mère-fille moment. The air is scented with Mom's favorite, Shalimar, which brings me back to my childhood in the desert. Our tête-à-tête is presided over by Lili the Cat who arrived on the heels of Smokey's departure last summer.

Jules' hair fell in a silver braid over her left shoulder, and she wore her bonnet for extra warmth. The space heater rumbled in the background and with it came my first pang of sadness. (That rumbling blade reminded me of "brown noise"--something Jackie often talked about. Ever since living in Miami, with a loud ceiling fan in her room, she has grown to appreciate the benefits of le bruit brun and its ability to neutralize a noisy environment. We enjoyed many talks about the subject, and categorizing various sounds became a kind of game.) 

My mind drifted back from the space heater to Jules. As Mom brushed Lili with her own rat-tail comb I rattled on. "Jackie's gone from fashion design to bartending to web design. Is computer programming really for her?"

I don't remember Jules's exact words, only her wisdom: This is not about computers. It's about the people Jackie will come in contact with. It's about the next phase of a young woman's life.... 

L'École de La Vie
As I listened to Jules, a couple of doves alighted on her window sill. The feathered duo is none other than Mama and Papa, her beloved wild birds, les tourtereaux. How serendipitous. Jules was now able to illustrate her point, and she did so while gazing at the love birds: "Don't worry about Jackie or school or what will come of this. This is about continuing the cycle of life."

Jules set down her rat-tail comb and headed to the counter to use the electric mixer I gave her. She poured a half-cup of dry dog food inside (Smokey's croquettes, which are, dorénavant, sustenance for the doves). Oh, the cycle of life with its sadness and joy! Mom and I covered our ears as the machine pulverized the croquettes. I laughed, thinking this is definitely not brown noise (does "red noise" exist?). I hope Jackie will laugh too, when she reads this from her new digs. Bon courage, My Girl! You've got this! 


FRENCH VOCABULARY
le logiciel = software
Pôle Emploi = the public employement service in France
le billet = bill, banknote
la petite-fille = granddaughter
la fenêtre = window
le brise-bise = half curtain, café curtain
la larme = tear
le nid familial = the family nest
mère-fille = mother-daughter
le tête-à-tête = conversation between two people
le bonnet = knit cap, wooly hat
le bruit brun = brown noise
l'école de la vie = school of life
les tourtereaux = lovebirds
dorénavant = from now on

Mama and Papa, the two doves from today's story, alighting on a pile of pea gravel. We are finally topping up the old gravier in our yard, which may have been poured when this house was built in 1960. Your comments and corrections to this post are much appreciated. Merci d'avance!

The sign on this quirky façade in Alsace reads Le Chat qui Pêche ("The Cat that Fishes"). Read on for a story about another smart cat...and don't miss the photo at the end of this post.

TODAY'S COOL WORD: "désinvolte"

: casual, nonchalant, detached, glib

A FEW BLOOPERS...Today's sound file, recorded by Jean-Marc, has a funny mistake. The good news is you will hear both the term and the translation (in English).  Click the link below for the audio, then scroll to the vocabulary section to check your French comprehension.
Click here for the audio file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

I was looking for a word to describe Mom's new pet, son animal de compagnie, when Jules offered a suggestion: "ALOOF. Cats are aloof." Well that seemed like a good term to share with you today... until I saw the boring French translation:

"réservé" "distant"...

Bof! You already know those words, in French and English! Luckily, the dictionary offered an interesting synonym for aloof: désinvolte, which reminds me of "revolt" which is what Lili The Cat did when we moved into her house 5 years ago. You see, Lili belonged to the family living here before us. But they were moving abroad and were unable to transport their 12-year-old minette overseas...So we agreed to help out by adopting Lili. But when our new chat figured out our golden retriever, Smokey, was part of the Live-Together deal, she hightailed it over the border, to the neighbor's.

Then, mysteriously, the very day Smokey passed away, Lili quietly migrated back....

I almost stepped on her while watering the rose bushes. Longhaired Lili was the same color as the muddy gravel surrounding her. Lifting her up I had a shock: she weighed less than an empty sock and she resembled as much. This wasn't the neighbor's fault. Our kind voisine regularly fed her, along with the other felines living over there (including one of Lili's offspring), but Lili is a fussy eater, picky to the extreme. "And she is not sociable and won't come into the house—not even when it storms!" My neighbor filled me in on a few of Lili’s quirks as we chatted at our little “window” in the hedge between our yards..

The day Lili met Jules everything changed, for both immigrants. My mom, who moved to France 4 years ago, when her husband passed, was now grieving over the loss of her best friend and confidant, Smokey. "He used to sleep beside me, with his head on my pillow. We used to talk to each other all night long," Mom shared. I remembered their special language, and loved it when Mom impersonated a talking Smokey! 

Since Smokey departed a great void filled Jules' studio... until sock-light Lili appeared! Lili, as you know, had this reputation of being distant, unfriendly, unpredictable, ungrateful--and maybe even a little bit sociopathic...à vrai dire). So we had zero expectations when she returned after 5 years, and instinct told me to reroute the errant cat over to Jules' place, to the little studio 15 meters from our front door.

This many months later and Lili weighs almost as much as our chubby puppy (Smokey never looked his age, even at almost 13 years). "She won't eat anymore home-cooked salmon, so I'm giving her meatballs," Mom explained, during one of our daily "Lili chats". I love going over to Mom's and sitting on the edge of her bed in time to hear of Lili's latest exploits (just as we used to discuss darling Smokey antics):

"She ran off the other cat," Mom said, of the stray with the broken tail who used to eat Lili's leftovers. "And she loves to sit behind the window and glare at the two hedgehogs when they come for their dinner!" (Jules offers Smokey's unused dog food to the spiky hérissons... carefully soaking it in water first). "I can't believe she is 17 years old," Mom confides, petting her new boarder. "You love Grandma, don't you? You can have anything you want! You deserve it!"

I can't believe Lili has come this far--from misanthrope to Miss (that's "beauty queen," in French). It remains a mystery how this cat manifested in time to become Jules' new confidant. I like to think that some tubby golden-haired angel in heaven is smiling down: I promised I would never leave you alone, Grandma! Smokey is saying, in that special, human parlance he uses with Mom.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

un animal de compagnie = a pet
désinvolte = nonchalant, detached
bof! = meh, nah
le chat = cat
le voisin, la voisine = neighbor
la minette = kitty, kitty cat
à vrai dire = to tell you the truth
un hérisson = hedgehog
la Miss = beauty queen


Lili, beside Mom's pillow, doing her best impression of Smokey. 

Max, working from his new îlot central. After 8 months of renovation, our son is finally settled into his new appartement.  

Visiting La Ciotat or a nearby town? Stop in and see us at Jean-Marc's wineshop. Call ahead and we'll set up a visit.

Today's Word: piquer
    : prick, bite, sting
    : to steal, nab, nick

Her Own Legacy by Debra Borchert: A Woman Fights for Her Legacy as the French Revolution Erupts. Available in paperback or read it on Kindle


FRENCH SOUND FILE: Click the following link to hear Jean-Marc pronounce piquer +hear all of the French words in today's post. Then scroll down to the vocabulary section to check your French comprehension.

Click here for the audio file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE...by Kristi Espinasse
Lunch Chez Max

Mom and I were driving to Max's new digs when I cautionned my passenger for the nième time to Hang on! 

But what is there to hang on to when you are seated with a cactus? We had just bought the prickly housewarming gift at la pépinière's, only to discover it was too tall to fit into the back of our jeep. That left the passenger seat....

As the tires eased over another nid-de-poule in the road, Jules shielded herself with a flimsy towel, using it as a barrier between her and the spiky cadeau which was set on the floorboard and stood level with Mom's shoulders. By the time we arrived at Max's condo complex, both driver and passenger were already worn out from the gift-buying adventure. Only now there were four flights of stairs to climb (pas d'ascenseur), to make it to Max's pad.

Introducting FLOF = "Free Lunch on Friday"...
We are so proud of Max for the way he planned and orchestrated the renovation of his appart (make that "condo" in English,  because even if apartments and condos look similar in France, in some cultures you don't buy an apartment--you rent one). Max called on friends and family for all works associated with his condo and managed this bighearted team on his own. Max and Uncle Jacques demolished walls and Jacques put in the dry wall, Aunt Cécile did the woodwork, architect friend Zoë drew up a floorplan, pal Clément installed the electricity, best friend Yann, his brother, and father put in the floortiles, Anaïs added many loving final touches and Jean-Marc and I did various errands and a lot of cooking! In the 8 months it took Max et compagnie to renovate his apartment, and while he continued to live here at home--nourri, logé, blanchi--I often hinted that it would be nice to eat chez lui one day. "We can call it FLOF! Free Lunch on Fridays!" Thus, FLOF was born and here we were, about to enjoy a meal--our first FLOF--chez Max! 

But, as guests...what to buy for someone who has everything? Let me tell you a little bit about how that happened. First, do you know the verb in French for "swipe" or "steal"? It's "piquer"! Here are some examples/funny synonyms of piquer--as well as a list of missing items from our family home:

Max a piqué le canapé... he nabbed the couch

il a piqué le gel douche... he pinched the shower gel 

il a piqué la lessive... he pilfered the laundry detergent

il a piqué le miroir... he lifted the mirror

il a piqué la table de nuit... he swiped the nightstand

il a piqué le repose-pied ... he stole the foot rest

il a piqué trois tabourets de la cave de Jean-Marc... he took three bar stools from Jean-Marc's wineshop

il a piqué la planche à découper...and he ran off with the cutting board!

(He yanked that last item right out from beneath the veggies I was about to chop! And, as usual, he offered a grinning and irresistable explanation: he's taken these items in the name of sentimentality. He grew up with a lot of this stuff--and would like it to live on chez lui. Blame it on la nostalgie!) As for the shower gel and clothes soap, his sister stole it back. (Go, Jackie!) I'd like Aunt Cécile's cutting board returned, but it does look good in Max's kitchen and who can resist that devilish grin, that twinkle in his eyes that says: it's mine now. 

Despite all that our son looted, I still got him an early crémaillière present. So, you might ask, what does one offer someone who steals? (Quelqu'un qui pique?)

Something piquant, of course!

And so, dear reader, we got him a cactus.

***

The cactus gives a touch of Max's southwest American roots.


While saving for a dining room table, Max is using this foldout card table (also snatched from our place...). He got the bistro chairs free, too, from our friend Fabrice, at Le Vin Sobre Marseilles, who was clearing out his own wine shop. The chess board was a gift from grand-mère Michèle-France, years ago. Max's cork bar stools (you can barely see one there at the kitchen island) are are available here. The bar stool reminds us of a champage cork and the wire cage surrounding it. 

***
Related Stories from the Blog Archives:
Mortgage is a Creepy Word... (Max looks to buy an appartement
Nid-de-Poule - insight into one of our vocab words via a story Max wrote when he was in high school
Cécile's work - a story about my belle-soeur

FRENCH VOCABULARY
un îlot central (de cuisine) = kitchen island
un appartement = condo
piquer = pinch, nab, nick, steal
nième = umpteenth
la pépinière = the garden center, nursery
le nid-de-poule = pothhole
le cadeau = present
nourri, logé, blanchi = "fed, housed, laundered", the term is often used in a humorous, sarcastic sense
Max a piqué le canapé = he nabbed the couch
il a piqué le gel douche = he pinched the shower gel
il a piqué la lessive = he pilftered the laundry detergent
il a piqué le miroir = he lifted the mirrorµ
il a piqué la table de nuit = he swiped the nightstand
il a piqué le repose-pied = he stole the foot rest
il a piqué trois tabourets de la cave de Jean-Marc = he took three bar stools from Jean-Marc's wineshop
il a piquer la planche à découper...and he took off with the cutting board
la crémaillère = housewarming party
piquant(e) = prickly

Max and his grand-mère, Jules


Feathers and clouds... 

Jean-Marc enjoying Max's pasta. Max also made a delicious green salad and served Magnum ice cream chocolate pops for dessert.

Our soon-to-be 13-year-old, Smokey and day lilies from our friends Anne and Kirk. Don't miss a beautiful picture of my Mom, Jules, at the close of this post (if your are reading via email, click on the link somewhere below to continue reading).

TODAY'S WORD: "un malentendu" 

: a misunderstanding, misinterpretation, misapprehension

AUDIO: click here to listen to the example sentence below

Un quiproquo est un malentendu où l'on prend un être vivant, un objet ou une situation pour une autre. A quiproquo is a misunderstanding where one takes a living being, an object or a situation for another.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse 

During yesterday’s heatwave I was looking for a cold treat to bring Mom. In the frigo I took a yogurt and a banana and headed out the kitchen door, to our garage-turned-studio where Jules has lived for four years now. Le temps vole!

Beyond the sliding glass doors I saw Mom resting on her bed. The ventilateur on the nightstand that had been cooling her was now whirring loudly on the floor beside our golden retriever.

“Mom, are you keeping cool enough? Let me bring in another fan!” I said.

“No, I’m OK. Pull up that chair I brought in for you.”

I set the goûter in the fridge beside the very same yogurt I’d brought previously and noticed it was untouched. On my way back I picked up the green metal fauteuil and set it in front of the kitchen island, facing Mom’s bed, and we settled into our late afternoon tête-à-tête, chatting while petting and fussing over Smokey, who turns 13 next month. As I caressed our dog I suddenly felt another bosse, this time between his neck and shoulder, nestled deep enough to go unnoticed as it grew…and grew. It was nearly the size of a tennis ball!

“When we had all those bumps removed 4 months ago, I knew it was only the surface of the iceberg.” I said to Mom, as a heaviness filled the room.

“Well,” Jules replied, searching the positive side, “he is one happy dog!”

That is true. And so much of it is thanks to Mom, who gives all the credit right back to Smokey. “Do you hear him talking to me?” Mom asks, as we gaze at one of the favorite members of our family, his blond hair whirling in the ventilator's breeze.

Yes, I do hear those two. I hear Smokey barking suggestions to Jules all day long, and have the pleasure and delight of hearing Mom translate them all to me as the two go about their day. At 7 in the morning Smokey says: Bark bark! It’s time for breakfast, Grandma, and by 8: Should we go out to the garden now, Grandma? Bark, bark!  Sometimes at 11, he'll wonder, Is it time for a snack, Grandma? Bark! And finally at 8 pm. It’s late now, Grandma, let’s head in for the night! Smokey’s humble, easygoing, loving and caring dogness is an ever present sweetness in our lives—and as you have seen, he is a helpful guide in Jules’s life. If I begin to think about our life without him I….

“Honey, reach up and turn off the stove,” Mom said, immediately dispersing our troubled thoughts.

I swung around, still in my chair, and turned off the electric burner. “What’s cooking?” I asked Mom.

Jules' face contorted at the thought of duck. “You know I raised ducklings as a child…”

Where this duck came from is a mystery. Mom’s been talking about it for a while. “I can always cook that duck,” Mom will say, when she wants to put off going to the supermarché. 

That duck. Mom said it was part of the purchase she made at Jean-Marc’s boutique, but I don’t remember my husband selling canard in his épicerie-wine shop. I turned around again to look at Mom’s fry pan. Inside there were kidney beans and strips of that duck.

“You must be desperate,” I said, and we both chuckled at Mom’s predicament. On second glance, I noticed something unusual: la viande était blanche.

“Mom, that’s not duck.”

“It isn’t?” Jules looked hopeful.

“No. It looks like chicken to me. It could even be frogs’ legs!” (The “strips” were similar in length...)

“Frogs’ legs!” Mom gasped. Even Smokey was surprised and he lifted his head in time to wrinkle his nose. Sniff, sniff…

“Could you show me the package?” I asked. Mom retrieved it and there, on the label, it was clear where the quiproquo began.

“Mom, it says ‘dinde,’ not ‘duck’.”

“Dinde?”

“Yes, Dinde…turkey!” 

“Dinde, dinde, wonderful! Am I pronouncing it correctly?” From the looks of things Mom had won the food lottery (and gained a new favorite French word).

“Would you happen to have any rice to go along with it?”

I offered to go and make some, but first, I reached down to caress Smokey. What I’d give to sort out his situation as easily as we did Mom’s. 

“Everything is going to be OK," Jules said, finding just the needed words. "We are all in God’s hands."

As for these heavy hearts, I'll remember He comforts those too. With this spiritual balm easing our painful emotions, we are now free to live each day to the best of our ability--for us, this means rearranging priorities in time to play ball and run through the sprinklers! Or whatever else our favorite furry family member enjoys this side of the rainbow bridge, and may it be miles and miles and miles away. Vive Smokey!
 

Smokey, resting from another tennis ball run. It's true what they say about dogs: every lesson we need about life can be learned from man's best friend. For starters, Get up, go outside, chase the ball today. Always wag your tail. Never complain. Show enthusiasm at all times. Be one big furry ball of love. 

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

Audio File for vocabulary

Audio file here

le frigo = fridge

le temps vole = time flies

le ventilateur = fan

le fauteuil = armchair 

le goûter = 4 o’clock snack, tea time

le tête-à-tête = private talk

la bosse = lump, bump

le supermarché = supermarket, grocery store

le canard = duck

une épicerie fine = fine foods, delicatessen

la viande était blanche = the meat was white 

quiproquo = misunderstanding, mistake

la dinde = turkey

vive = long live

Photos: a closeup of Mom’s kitchen island and its decor

July 14th, 2022. Jules, the first garden tomatoes of the season, and a smiling Smokey. He really is a happy dog. Thanks so much, Mom, for spoiling him with your round-the-clock presence, love, and treats.

These baby doves were discovered in our garden one week ago. Don't miss the story, below. See any mistakes in today's post? Your edits are helpful and appreciated. Merci d'avance.

TODAY’S FRENCH WORD: un oisillon 

: baby bird, chick

SOUND FILE: Click the link to hear Jean-Marc pronounce the French words in today's post. Then scroll down to the vocabulary section to check your French comprehension.

Click here for the soundfile

EXAMPLE SENTENCE
Vous POUVEZ remettre un oisillon dans son nid. Contrairement à un mythe très répandu, les parents ne sentiront pas votre odeur si vous le touchez (l'odorat des oiseaux n'est en général pas très développé).

You CAN put a baby bird back in its nest. Contrary to a common myth, the parents will not smell you if you touch it (birds' sense of smell is usually not very developed). --intra-science.com

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

A week ago, Thursday, Jean-Marc and Jackie found baby birds in our yard, below the 20ft palm tree. My husband was getting ready to BBQ some salmon when he stepped back and almost crushed something under his shoe: a nestling, with all its feathers, scraggly looking and weak. Moments later our daughter discovered a second oisillon, severely injured and bleeding. There were scrapes all along its side, on the wing, and a deep, large gash on its back from un prédateur? Un chat?

I hurried and got a box, set a towel inside, and ran around the side of the house to Mom's studio. Jules shot into action: examining the doves, she began to wash the wounds of the injured one with water and drops of Bétadine. As she cared for them, Mom kept repeating, “They are big, these babies are big,” giving us all hope the lost ones would make it through their ordeal.

These fledglings were tourterelles turques, or Eurasian collared doves–very common in our neighborhood. Lucky little rescapés! To think their life hinged on a banal and flippant decision: earlier there was a question of cooking our lunch (fish) on the BBQ or in the frying pan. I kept hesitating until, oh let Jean-Marc cook outside--less of a mess in the kitchen! We would never have found the struggling oiselets had JM not gone out to the yard. Surely the cats would have come back in that scenario….

After lunch (the little orphans with us on the bench), Jules disappeared, leaving the helpless birds to Jackie… I didn’t understand why Mom would abandon her doves (we voted Jules as Chief Nurse) until she returned a while later having done a crash course via YouTube on how to care for fallen or injured birds. Apparently we had on hand all supplies needed, including dog croquettes… and the human touch, which Mom said was the most important ingredient. As Jules cradled the injured birdling, my thoughts slipped out, “Mom, haven’t you ever heard you’re not supposed to touch a baby bird? The parents will reject it!”

Jules wasted no time arguing. Tearing up her favorite wool nightshirt, she swaddled each chick. Emmitouflés, snug and warm they were carefully fed "un velouté de croquettes" (enough to nourish and hydrate them) before being placed near the heater in Mom’s tiny salle-de-bain.

I didn’t think the injured one would make it through the night, but early the next day I found Mom awake, feeding one of the nestlings, who now had a name: "Betty." I knew right away the other was "Rusty," after Mom’s dear, departed brother.

We took Rusty and Betty outside to the “nursery” (the center of our garden, beside the weeping pepper tree). There on a carpet of delicate white flowers we set the baby birds. The sun and fresh air began to dry Betty’s wounds. If it wasn’t amazing enough to see them alive Day Two, Day Three presented a miracle when a couple of doves landed beside the box and began feeding the baby birds!

It was no other than Mama and Papa, a pair of doves Jules befriended 3 years ago. So tame, they feed right out of Jules' hands and have landed on her head and shoulders dozens of times. Here they were, taking turns feeding Rusty and Betty. But were these fallen chicks their offspring? I didn't think so, but Jules insisted they were!

I noticed the parents opening wide their beaks for the babies to reach in and feed (I always thought it was the other way around, with the mama putting the food into the baby's beak).  "This is good!" I said to Mom, happy she would have relief from the regular day/night feedings. 

"And the good news is I don’t have to teach them to fly!" Mom smiled. Sacré Jules. I could just see her flapping her wings!

They next days were a treasure, with our family gathered in the garden for the 3 or so daily feedings, in which Mama and Papa flew in to nourish the babies, who began trembling each time they were ready to eat (see video below). If it was awesome to watch the feeding you should have seen these fierce protectors dive bomb any bird that came near our yard (parts of which are now covered in feathers). They even chased the cats away!

Sacré Mama and Papa. I never did understand why Mom named the doves this way (always wished she'd come up with something zippier--Suzette and Fritz, for example. But now I see it clearly. Mama and Papa have come into their names.

This morning I went to get Rusty and Betty from Mom's, to put them out in the "nursery." Mama and Papa flew in immediately and began feeding their kids. Jackie and I sat chatting on the edge of the little pond/fountain, Smokey beside us, as usual. (Mama and Papa practically walk over his paws to get to where they're going and the baby doves find it normal to have a giant golden retriever looking over them.) This morning was one of the loveliest and when it came time to put the baby birds back into the box.... Rusty flew up to a branch!

I ran to get Mom, who hurried out. Jules's reflex was to get Rusty down off that branch (a rainstorm was coming in...) but as she approached the parents flew in and Rusty took off in a spectacular arc over our yard landing in the tree on the corner of our lot (above the busy crossroads in our neighborhood). He's been there now 8 hours, his parents looking on from the telephone pole beside the tree. 

Should we get a ladder? Toss a ball near the branch? Will he survive the night? He must be getting cold. What will happen to little Rusty? The overall feeling (beside helplessness) is to leave the parents to take over from here on. But why aren't the stealth dive bombers moving him along, steering their young one back to the nest? 

Please send good wishes Rusty's way. Meantime Betty is back with Mom. Ever a fighter with those battle scars, she's ready to fly too. But with the rain coming in we want to keep her dry and warm a little while longer.

I worry about Jules as much as the nestlings. She's put her everything into nursing them back to life, and she didn't get to say goodbye to one of the little ragamuffins, as she called them. I want this story to have a happy ending for the birds and for my Mom, but will have to stop here and cross fingers. Bonne chance, Rusty and à demain, j'éspère.

Click the arrow in the screen below to start the video, or view directly on my Instagram

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

un oisillon = chick, baby bird
un petit oiseau baby bird
tomber = to fall
blessé = hurt, injured
le prédateur = predator
le chat = cat
le nid = nest
la Bétadine = Povidone-iodine, a popular antiseptic 
la tourterelle = dove, see "lovebirds" in French
l'orphelin, l'orpheline = orphan
un (une) rescapé(e) = survivor
un oiselet = baby bird, chick
la croquette = dog biscuit, kibble, dry food
emmitoufler = to wrap up warmly, to swaddle
un velouté de croquettes = cream of kibble soup
la salle de bain = bathroom
sautiller = to bounce, jump
voler = to fly
soigner = to care for
à demain, j'éspère = see you tomorrow, I hope

The blossoming tree where Rusty landed. See him camouflaged there in the center? 

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) 

My son, Max, spearfishing here in La Ciotat. In today's story, his grandmother Jules goes fishing in the garden, while I reel in a boatful of new French words for you. Enjoy, and please share this post with somebody who loves France or the French language. Merci!

Today’s French expressions: avoir la pêche (vs) aller à la pêche

  : avoir la pêche = to feel great, to feel happy
  : aller à la pêche = to go fishing

Listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the following sentence in French:

Quand ma belle-mère, Jules, a la pêche...Elle va à la pêche!
When my mother-in-law, Jules, is feeling energetic, she goes fishing!

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi ESPINASSE

“I feel good!”  my mom announces, stretching out her arms beside the budding fig tree. “Look how rosy my cheeks are!”

En effet! After hibernating all winter, Jules a la pêche. Her energy stores are full and she is ready to return to work as our resident Tuyau Operator, in charge of watering all the flowers and veggies. It’s about time Sleeping Beauty woke up. Les hibiscus ont soif!

Mom surveys the wild garden and its unruly grass, its patches of buttercups, dandelions, grape hyacinths, and, oh—look at those two-foot-high beanstalks! Our front yard has come to life, just like Mom and her furry, elderly assistant, Smokey (who’s put on a few pounds after guarding Grandma all winter. The two share the afternoon goûter in bed, and I suspect it’s not the only snack for nos aînés gourmands!).

Plus de Pantoufles!
When Jules, in her black Converse high tops, marches past her favorite Papillon chair, you know she means business. No contemplating the clouds today, c’est l’heure d’arroser.

I pass by the fountain on my way to meet her, and the water begins to tremble. Can you believe that’s 4 dozen baby koi rushing to the surface? The doves use a similar attention-getting strategy, going as far as to knock on the window until Jules gets up to feed them! Everyone is hungry now that winter is over, ou presque…

Un guet-apens? (An ambush?)
Jules grabs the long wooden pole and net—the épuisette—and plunges it in and out of the water sending petrified poissons darting toward the papyrus for cover.

“I caught 5!” Mom gasps, upending the net and watching the fish land in the copper jam pan (a recent gift Mom picked up for us at la Coop Agricole). 

“Hurry! Get some water in there!” Mom signals, as the fish flop around their copper tôle, or prison.

Les yeux ébahis, I scramble to fill the copper jam pan with water before the fish (that's slang for inmates!) go into shock. Visiblement, Mom’s energy is running ahead of her again. If you think her motor is charged, you should see Smokey! Our 11-year-old golden retriever has leaped over the fence and is trespassing in the neighbor’s yard, probably eating the cat food again! “Smokey! Reviens ici!” Whereas moments ago our senior chien jumped over the fence, he is now crawling under the flimsy barrier, comme si de rien n’était.

As you can see, I’ve got my hands full keeping these thrill-seekers in line. But I’m not complaining. I’m too dazzled by the koi swimming in the copper jam pan. Jules has the coolest ideas and her creativity is enough to wake a zombie (or anyone feeling lethargic during a pandemic!).

“It would be a fabulous centerpiece for your next dinner party!” Mom adds, easing into her butterfly chair. Time now to contemplate the clouds, and think up more adventures in this era of couvre-feux and confinement.

--
Post note: No photo of the fish in the bassine à confiture, or copper jam pan. When I tried to recreate the scene, fishing wasn’t as easy as Mom made it look! 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

un jeu de mots = a play on words

en effet = indeed

avoir la pêche = to feel energetic 

le tuyau = garden hose

avoir soif = to be thirsty

le goûter = snack

la pantoufle = house slipper

nos aînés = our elders

le gourmand = food lover

arroser  = to water

ou presque = or almost

un guet-apens = an ambush

une épuisette = pole and net for collecting fish or clearing  leaves from the pond

en taule  (en tôle) = in the slammer, prison

le poisson = fish

visiblement = clearly

reviens ici! = come back here!

le chien = dog

comme si de rien n’était = as if nothing were amiss

couvre-feu = curfew


NEW IN BOOKS: THE PARIS LIBRARY by Janet Skeslien Charles. 
Based on the true World War II story of the heroic librarians at the American Library in Paris, this is an unforgettable story of romance, friendship, family, and the power of literature to bring us together, perfect for fans of The Lilac Girls and The Paris Wife. Order a copy here.


Or senior chien, Smokey is doing great. Don’t miss this story of Mom’s papillon chair, click here.

Le printemps has come early to France and promises to bring a beautiful late spring and summer, if you are thinking of a wonderful and different sort of holiday why not come on one of my painting trips. All-inclusive from pick up to drop off, you get to see some of the most beautiful places in Provence and beyond. Eat gourmet food and have one on one teaching. The groups are small and friendly. Don’t miss out!! www.paintprovencewithtess.com

Today's Phrase: Comme si de rien n'etait

    : as if nothing had happened

Try Easy French Step-by-Step. Click here to view the book.

Click here for the audio file for today's word

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

We were bundled up and heading out for our walk when Mom reached into her poche and pulled out a plastic baggy: "I've got cat food!" she sang.

Oh no! I thought, before auto-correcting, "Great. That's great, Mom."

(I DO think it is great Jules cares for the needy here in France--just as she did in Mexico, and back in the Arizona desert where she raised us. Even as a struggling, single parent, Mom encouraged us to "give away 10 percent"... and so showed my sister, Heidi, and me the importance of tithing. It's just that now we've got to watch out for our Mom, because she gives what she herself might one day need--to homeless men, stray cats, and les démunies--and we fear some take advantage of her. And when I say les démunies, this includes her 3 rescued hedgehogs and her growing flock of tourterelles. You'd be surprised at just how pushy doves can be! All but knocking on her window with their beaks!)

Some might say we have enough cat ladies in the neighborhood. I've spotted at least three sprinkling croquettes across fences, driveways, or along the trottoirs. One of the women is very discreet, posing as a kind of mail-carrier, scooping kibbles out of her satchel before moving on, comme si de rien n'était. (which, BTW, is another lesson Mom taught: Give, without anyone seeing you do it!)

A few blocks into our sortie, and Mom was eager to show me her latest adoptee: a hefty black cat who lives across from the surf rental shack, where an SDF sleeps at night. As Jules sprinkled dinner along the stairs beside the digue, I spied several empty gamelles on the other side of the bushes.

"There are 5 plates over there!" I pointed out. Ignoring me, Mom went about her joyful occupation, adding more cat food to one of the empty bowls.

"Look! The pigeons are coming." I warned. In 2 seconds flat the cat chow Mom had purchased disappeared beneath a flurry of feathers. "See! The pigeons get to it before even the cats! And look, here comes another woman with a box of croquettes!"

Unfazed, Mom and the stranger raised their kibbles, acknowledging one another and their common goal of comforting the homeless.


One of the stray cats in our neighborhood.

Aware now of my grumpy mood (this hayfever and spring lethargy is severe this year!), I relented: "I'm being a buzz kill aren't I?"

"You sure are!" Mom laughed. "You're just no fun!"

"The French have a word for party poopers," I offered. "It's casse-bonbons. Literally, a 'candy breaker'."

(Update: Boy I was wrong with that translation. Bonbon also refers to testicles! Too late, Mom was already calling me this!)

"Come over here, Casse-Bonbons. I have a surprise for you!"

A surprise? What could Jules have up her sleeves apart from cat food? Mom took my arm and guided me down to the waterfront. When I recognized the building towards which we were walking--the members-only sailing club--I panicked. "We can't go there!" 
 
"Yes, we can," Mom smiled. "I've already been..."

"No. We can't," I said, digging my heels into the ground. "You have to be invited by three club members" (an exaggeration, it was really two members, but anything to dissuade Mom).

As if she could be dissuaded. Mom tugged on my arm. "Come on!"

A few steps later and I saw the sign, Acces public à la mer, and an arrow pointing to the opposite way of the yacht club. Mais bien sûr. Most beachfronts in France are open to the public! I had just never ventured far enough to see the sign!

And that is how I learned about a little-known gem of a plage--a flat-rock beach--in my own town--thanks to Mom and her trail of croquettes. And why am I surprised? It was Jules who always told us, back in the Arizona desert: to take a new path each day... (and to feed the cats and the homeless along the way).

I leave you with a few pictures of the passage we took to get to the beach, and a meaningful quote at the end of this post. 

Amicalement,
Kristi

EDIT ME: If you see une faute de frappe (a typo) in French or in English, I would greatly appreciate it if you would point it out in the comments or via email. Merci beaucoup!

FRENCH VOCABULARY
la poche = pocket
les croquettes pour chat = dry cat food
la tourterelle = turtledove
démuni(e) = needy, destitute, the very poor 
le trottoir = sidewalk
comme si de rien n'était = as if nothing had happened
la sortie = trip, outing, excursion
la gamelle = dish, bowl
la digue = seawall, embankmentOuvert au public 
SDF (Sans Domicile Fixe) = homeless
le casse-bonbons = pain in the neck, pest
la plage = beach

My mom loves magpies, so it was a treat to see this one on "Mom's beach." Also, notice how the rocks above the magpie form a face. Here, below is the full picture of our view from the little beach.

I leave you with the words of Thomas Merton, which may sum up my Mom's philosophy when it comes to giving, loving, sharing. If you'd like to translate the sentence in the comments, that would be lovely: Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. 

In limbo. Both Smokey and my Mom were in limbo this week: the one is still waiting for his tumor  test results, while the other is about to land in Madrid, si Dieu le veut (God willing!) Here is a picture of Smokey to make us all smile in the meantime. The title "Ironmutt" is in reference to the medal he is wearing, swiped from Jean-Marc who is a recent finisher of the race which took place in Aix-en-Provence. Bravo Jean-Marc! And Bravo for helping my Mom when she was stranded in Mexico City at the airport.... More in today's story.

Meantime... Is it possible to choke to death on a vitamin? Yes, it is! Stay tuned and I may share my story of this morning's ambulance ride to ER in the next edition when I share a life-saving verb with you! (No, on second thought, you should not have to wait for this tip. Here it it is now, in English: CRUSH your vitamin pills if they are too big! Never, ever cut them in half, where a square or jagged end could lodge itself in place. And never ever try to flush a giant stuck tablet with water. )

 UNE MESAVENTURE

    : mishap

 AUDIO FILE: Listen to Jackie talk about her grand-mère:
Download MP3 or WAV

Grandma Jules a eu une petite mésaventure à l'aéroport.
Grandma Jules had a little mishap at the airport.

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

Mom's mésaventure in Mexico City

Yesterday morning I woke up to some alarming news: instead of being in flight and about to land... my mom was turned away at the boarding gate and could not make her connecting flight to France! She was now in limbo midway through her voyage, stuck in a Mexican airport far from home, without a valid ticket or a credit card!

And yet, the ticketing agents let her onto her first flight back in her hometown of Puerto Vallarta! The airline employees did not notice, at that crucial moment, that her ticket was not paid for!

"Log onto your bank account and see if they debited your card!" Jean-Marc ordered, upset at finding out the news upon waking at 5 a.m. 

Groggy, I hurried out of bed and fired up my computer to learn my card was not debited, months ago after we made mom's reservation. Despite this, we received a confirmation email for all three flights! (And all three flight were "paid for" on the same credit card.)

So how did Mom manage to get on that first flight?

"I did ask, at check-in, for all my boarding passes," Mom explained, speaking to us now from the Camino Real aiport hotel. "But the flight attendants were dealing with a technical issue, an could only provide my first boarding pass. They assured me my baggage claim voucher, which mentioned my final destination, would suffice."

Mom relaxed, had a beer near the gate, and, as usual, proceeded to dole out much of her cash to the "sweet ladies who clean the restrooms." 

But when she arrived in Mexico City only to be refused entry on her flight to Madrid, she was now in limbo, and with little cash and no credit card! "They told me at gate check-in that my ticket was not valid.

In addition to being in limbo, Mom's limbs were aching as well (after having a steel plate removed from her hip several years ago, and a double mastectomy, she just doesn't have the energy she used to. For this, Jean-Marc arranged a wheelchair, but the moment she was found to have been traveling on an unpaid ticket, and having gifted her pocket change to the restroom angels, she lost her wheelchair advantages!

I don't know how she made it back to the Camino Real hotel, or how she kept her chipper and thankful attitude which sung as we spoke on the phone.

"Honey, I'm just worried about those people who did make it onto the plane!" Mom explained, wondering if all the roadblocks she just experienced were somehow shielding her from misfortune....

***

Post note: I checked the original flight throughout the day and night, relieved when it touched down safe in Madrid. All I ask now, is that Mom's alternative flight will land safely! I'm off to check "Madrid arrivals", now on the internet. Mom should be resting in the airport since her 14:20 landing. She is probably visiting the powder room, looking for some more cleaning angels in which to share the euros she saved from her previous trip! (Mom, if you are reading, save a few euros as you have one more flight to go before you land in Marseilles!)

Thanks for your positive thoughts and "see you" next week (or this afternoon, on Instagram and Facebook, if you are reading updates over there!)
 

Here is the photo and message I posted on Instagram and Facebook, just before Mom took that first flight! Blue borage flowers and the early evening sky. My mom will be boarding a plane soon, and asked me to pray she gets three seats to lie down on for her Mexico-Madrid flight. It is a long journey, so please think good thoughts for her. Thanks.