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!

An ancient hair-salon-turned-fashion boutique in Paris where you can buy a glittery 70s ensemble and more. Don't miss the sound file, near the end, with all the French vocabulary from this edition.

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... 

TODAY'S WORD: la coqueluche

    : heart-throb, pin-up, idol
    : whooping cough

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

"Mom, do you know the BeeGees?" My daughter called out as I was emptying le lave-vaisselle.

Jackie's statement was more of a memory jog than a question, for who doesn't know the BeeGees? Au fait, how did my youngest know of the Anglo-Australian trio?

"There's a song I can't stop playing. It's actually une reprise, but it led me to the original artists and I love them!" With that, Jackie launched YouTube on our living room's big screen. When next I glimpsed Barry Gibb glowing like Jesus, my conscience spent 30 seconds trying to disassociate the doppelgängers.

Barry Gibb in the Stayin Alive music video

Finally, I abandoned the half-emptied dishwasher and landed on the couch--to settle into an evening screening of 70s glam rock. 

Even more than our BeeGees video spree, I enjoyed the fresh commentary of a 25-year-old French girl, ma fille, viewing clips from the culture in which I grew up. After How Deep is Your Love (my daughter's favorite) and Staying Alive I asked Jackie to find an Andy Gibb clip. "He was the youngest brother--a teenage heartthrob and my first star crush!

La Coqueluche--The Heartthrob
A moment later I Just Want to be Your Everything came on the screen, sending me back to the days when I would buy TeenSomething magazine for the foldout wall poster of Andy. I also had his first album, on vinyl bien sûr, and a satin jacket/shorts combo my stepmother offered me before escorting 11-year-old me and my similarly-clad stepsister to an Andy Gibb concert! To this day that satin ensemble = my favorite outfit of all time (funnily, I can't remember the concert. Maybe it was all a dream?). 

While watching a repertoire of 70s glam rock music videos, including ABBA, Jackie sighed, "They dressed so elegantly back then." Funny. To me 70s fashion was kind of ugly. Now, on a closer look, I can see my daughter's point of view: for one, clothes were tailored, which got me thinking....

"1997...You were born on the tail-end of 90s grunge,” I informed my youngest.

"What was that?"

"The sloppy look."

"Oh...." Jackie's voice trailed off until... "I don't think I was born in the right decade. I'd like to have been born in the 50s--and then I would have been of age in the 70s," Jackie mused, visions of 70's chic dancing in her head. I remembered my mom, dressed in long-sleeved silk blouses, tight velvet slacks, and a fitted blazer. Her pants tucked into her boots, Jules could have walked right out of the picture frame image from yesteryear, and onto the streets of Paris this winter. Certain styles are intemporel. 

If only my memory was timeless. I think in the previous paragraph I confused the end of the 70s with the early 80s. (Mom, just when were you wearing those velvet pants?) Peu importe! Last night's trip down memory lane was the chance to share my girlhood with my daughter's. Even if she is now over a decade older than I was back then, born in another time and place. And to think this modern-day French girl shares the same passions as I did then... including Andy Gibb. "Il n'est pas mal du tout! He is not bad at all!" Jackie agrees.

***

That satin jacket many of Andy’s fans sported

Post note: Funnily, the only thing Jackie didn’t like is Andy’s hirsute chest. Young guys these days (only young men and only in France?) wax their torsos. But in researching for today’s post, I learned the trend is changing: body hair is back in style. 

In the comments, it would be fun to learn who your heartthrob/idol/pin-up or coqueluche was back in the day. Also, do you have a favorite outfit of all time? Take a jog down memory lane and share your thoughts in the comments. Merci!

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Audio File: To listen to the list below, click here:

Click here for the bilingual sound file

le lave-vaisselle = dishwasher
au fait = incidentally, by the way
une reprise = remake
la fille = daughter
la coqueluche = idol, heartthrob 
bien sûr = of course
intemporel = timeless, eternal 
peu importe = no matter

My daughter Jackie in Paris. She was wearing her running pants that day but would have swapped them in an instant for her grandmother Jules's velvet ones. Have time for another story? Don't miss "La Frousse" (Fright) --a mother-daughter story from 12 years ago.

Missed you, dear reader, for Valentines Day. Our family has been under the weather. A brief update, today, and the regular edition will be back next week.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

“Saturday Night Fever”

It is Day 9 of the flu and Jean-Marc (who is on Day 12) has returned to our matrimonial bed after sleeping downstairs. It is early morning and we are having “coffee and complaints”—astounded at how we can still be coughing up “liquid” after a fortnight.

“Liquid”...I’m trying to put it in nice terms but my husband has a vocabulary of his own. 

“Putain! C’est une merde ce truc!” he says, blowing his nose like a trumpet. He is a very noisy patient but then I’m no purring kitten either, when ill.

As Jean-Marc settles into the news I decide to research “ce truc” we’re coughing up. Soon, I am learning all about the benefits of what the French call “la glaire.” 

“If your body is a nightclub, mucus is a bouncer!” I share the nerdy article I’m reading with JM. Suddenly my husband begins to jiggle. His hand flies up in a John Travolta air jab, up to the right, down to the left. I follow suit and the two of us are sitting up in bed dancing.

“Do you understand the words?” I ask, to be sure. “If your body is a nightclub, mucus is the bouncer...”

“Oui, oui!” JM insists, jabbing the air. “Si ton corps est une boîte de nuit, la glaire c’est le DJ....”

”No! A bouncer not a DJ! Are you listening to me? The mucus kicks the bad guys out of the club!”

“Have you ever been kicked out of a nightclub?” Jean-Marc smiles at me.

“No! And you?”

“Not that I remember...” my husband says, coughing once again. Only this time we’re not complaining. Our former negativity has turned to jubilee as, side by side in bed, we jab the air a few more times à la John Travolta, pointing up to the right, down to the left. We have made peace with our “productive” coughs and learned a little about our bodies in the process. I have a new respect for that old flemmy foe, from now on known as “Bouncer M.” And it’s put a new spin on the flu or how I think about.

Why not think of it as disco fever? Off to let my body rock. See you next week with more photos and stories from France. Take care and, whatever your circumstances, keep looking on the bright side!

Amicalement,

Kristi
P.S. JM recommends a nose gargle. He has returned from the seashore with a liter of salt water. I think I’ll pull the covers over my head instead!

If I were a 20-year sober cat, this is what my life would look like. I love this imperfect, slightly crooked picture and hope you do too for a future postcard. Meantime, many thanks for your postcard orders!

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
“In The Clouds”

I don’t know what it is about my mind but sometimes the most obvious things escape me. I am a dreamer. Blame it on that. But when I quit floating through the moment, and stop to focus, I do see the picture! 

This week, and today specifically, I am pausing to visualize two decades of sobriety. Twenty years ago today I woke up to a new and blessed beginning. I remember it vividly: the decision to stop drinking. It came with tears. These weren’t larmes of regret, they were and remain tears of surrender.

This new beginning happened around the time this blog began, and it--this promise to myself--would become an anchor. No matter how many times we moved homes, or the ups and downs of life, this gift of sobriety would hold me steady through many trials and changes. 

If sobriety is an anchor, faith is the solid ground beneath it. What would I do without my faith? I don’t know, but one thing I would not do is give it up. Because looking over 55 years of life, Faith is the one constant--faith and grace (can the two words be interchanged?)

I was walking home from church yesterday when I overheard a young woman walking toward me. The woman with the Australian accent was saying to her companion: “When I look back over my life...I realize God has always been there....

I thought to myself, Amen. My next thought was, Maybe that was an angel...an angel with an Australian accent!

No matter how far along my faith walk, or my sobriety walk, I still need these reminders that I am not alone. God has my back.

Back to the woman’s message...about finding God in retrospect...This is exactly what I say to my grown children or to anyone who struggles with faith: Just look back over your life... then you will see God in action. It is grace that carries us through. Are you ever amazed at how you have survived? But for the grace of God go I.

Last week our son joined us here for lunch. I left the chili to simmer and joined my husband and Max in the garden, where they were enjoying apéritifs. Two bottles of wine were opened for the tasting, and on the table, a bucket of sea urchins the two men had just caught. I picked up a spoon and began savoring les oursins, while carefully tuning into the conversation.

Max was telling his dad about how he had emptied our cellar of more wines, transferring them to his own storage unit at his new condo. 
”That’s great, Max!” I said, relieved to have more space freed up in our home (I’m hoping the guys will move my washing machine to the cellar, and free up space in our bathroom—which we will hopefully one day renovate.)

Jean-Marc chuckled, "Good thing you took it before Mom drank it!" 

"You two should thank me!" I said, ignoring my husband’s joke. “Think of all the wine and money I have saved you over the years. Just imagine...

...At one-half bottle a day (sounds like a lot but it's = to a glass at lunch and two glasses at dinner...)

...times 4 weeks (let’s say 15 bottles a month...)

...times one year ( 180 bottles)

...times 19 years...

That is almost 3500 bottles!

While Max and I were  busy being very impressed by this calculation, Jean-Marc accidentally redeemed himself from the bad joke he told earlier:

"It has been 20 years, Chérie."

Oh my goodness. He is right! And today, February 6th, marks the day! I may be a little in the clouds...but I am still floating around, amongst family and life, enjoying every precious moment. Had I not made that decision 20 years ago, I don’t know where I would be today. And that is a sobering thought.

IN CELEBRATION: The Lost Gardens Memoir, now $20
In celebration of this milestone, our story "The Lost Gardens" is now a symbolic $20 instead of $29 when you purchase with this link. If you have been meaning to read about our life at two vineyards--following my sobriety--this is the time! Our husband/wife memoir is online, readable in blog format. Upon checkout, you will be given two passwords to enter the website, where you can begin reading right away. Click here to order The Lost Gardens Memoir


Bye for now, and back to dreaming up future postcards. How do you like the two images in today's post? Let me know and thank you for your postcard orders. and for the various ways you help out this journal. I truly appreciate your support.

Would this picture be good for the La Ciotat postcard series? Thanks for your helpful feedback and for your postcard orders this week! I am enjoying the quiet, mindful activity of addressing envelopes and my handwriting is slowly improving :-)

TODAY’S WORD: s'abandonner

: to surrender yourself to, to unburden yourself 


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

As I walked into Le Café de L’Horloge two customers seated near le comptoir offered a warm bonjour.

"Boh-wher!" I replied, or tried to. For once it wasn't my faulty accent to blame. The freezing Mistral had numbed my face during the 30-minute walk to Port Vieux, where I was meeting my daughter for lunch. I waved goodbye to the diners after Jackie arrived, and the two of us headed upstairs to share a quiet booth with a view. "Isn't it cozy here? I love this place. It is open all day," Jackie said rubbing her hands together to warm them.

Hungry, I searched for la carte. "It's tucked inside that book..." my daughter pointed out.
"Oh, nice!" This artsy café had a charming literary twist (there are more books next door at the Emmaus bookshop). I reached for the menu inside a  paperback by Sylvain Tesson: "S'Abandonner à Vivre." Surrender to Live...

For now, we were surrendering to our appetites. Jackie suggested the bagel with salmon and la soupe de poireaux. A young woman from Paris took our order and disappeared down the stairs. "One more week of classes!" I said to my 25-year-old, who was completing a 4-week computer course offered by Pôle Emploi, the French national employment agency.

"Yes, but then what?" my daughter began to worry again. After some thought, I reminded her of a bit of wisdom I'd overheard recently:

In your twenties, try everything.
In your thirties, figure out what you do best.
In your forties, make money from what you do best.
Try not to do much in your fifties.

If I could say that in French it might go something like this:

Dans la vingtaine, essayez tout.
Dans la trentaine, découvrez ce que vous faites de mieux.
Dans la quarantaine, gagnez de l'argent avec ce que vous faites de mieux.
Essayez de ne pas faire grand-chose à la cinquantaine.

At 25 and 55 my daughter and I are at opposite ends of the career spectrum--between "essayez tout" et "ne pas faire grand-chose"--with Jackie trying everything between bartending and computer coding and me slowing down. Yikes. If Jackie has her doubts so do I (dois-je ralentir?).  And yet here we are, holding each other up with cheers and bouts of laughter.

"I'm going to embarrass you," I smile, giving my daughter an extra big bear hug back outside the café.
"No, you're not embarrassing me!" Jackie hugs back. We laugh and say our goodbyes before my daughter returns to computer class. She is anxious to see the 3D objet de déco she's designed which has just been cut out by a laser printer. It boggles my mind. Who knows what they'll print next. ..Baguettes? 

What would I do without my daughter? I think, on the cold walk home alone. Have I been present during lunch? Am I paying attention? Have I missed anything? I remember her smile. How she spoke to me in French and, catching herself, reverted to English. I think about the way Jackie ordered our lunch, poured the water, and spread chocolate over our shared gauffre before reaching into her purse for two euros, "I'll leave the pourboire." She is so calm. You’d never know she struggles with doubts and fears and anxieties.

Yet, she is showing me how to laugh at life. On the drive to pick up my daughter from class in the centre ville, I see her waiting on the side of the road. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of a patrol car in my rear-view mirror...et c'est la panique! As I drive by my daughter my eyes widen and I begin wagging my finger back and forth, signaling I CAN'T STOP NOW! (Not in the middle of the road as usual.)

Finally, I pull over and my daughter, catching up to the car, opens the door. Neither of us can speak, we are laughing so hard. Eyes glistening with tears, we look at each other with comic relief. On rigole, et on rigole encore!

"Mom! You should have seen your face. I just knew you were going to freak! You and the cops! Toi et les flics--C'est toute une histoire! The fits of laughter continue until I have to wipe my eyes in order to drive. Fear and uncertainty have gone for the moment. These old foes will be back, but for now, we can laugh!

Well, dear reader, it is time to sum up today's story and bid you au revoir. So, no matter your age, be sure to slow down, try everything, and remember laughter is a form of surrender. Abandonnons-nous tous à vivre!

Amicalement, 
Kristi
P.S. The next time you see cops and panic, do what the French do: whisper Vingt-Deux les Flics! ("Twenty-two the cops!") It doesn't mean anything. It's just funny and kind of freeing!  

ADVICE FOR EACH DECADE OF LIFE
I thought it would be interesting to continue the "Advice for Each Decade" info cited above. Will you add your experience and wisdom to the comments section and whether or not you agree with the 20s, 30s, 40s, an 50s advice? To rephrase:

In your twenties, try everything.
In your thirties, figure out what you do best.
In your forties, make money from what you do best.
Try not to do much in your fifties.
In your sixties (fill in blank)
In your seventies (fill in blank)
In your eighties (fill in blank)
In your nineties (fill in blank)
At 100 (fill in blank, and merci to our readers who are nearing la centaine!)


View looking down to the cobbled streets of La Ciotat.


Can you spy my mom in the background? Photo of Jules taken a few years ago in front of Café l'Horloge, at 7 Rue Albert et Georges Arnoux, 13600 La Ciotat. A nice place for coffee, lunch, or apéros!

AUDIO FILE: Listen to the French vocabulary list

Click here to begin listening

FRENCH VOCABULARY
s'abondonner = to surrender oneself
le Café de L'Horloge = The Clock Café
le comptoir = bar, counter
Le Port Vieux = The Old Port in La Ciotat
la carte = the menu
la soupe de poireaux = leek soup
le pôle emploi = job center, unemployment office
dois-je ralentir? = should I slow down?
objet de déco = decorative object
la gaufre = waffle
le pourboire = tip, gratuity
rigoler = to laugh
toi et les flics = you and the cops
c'est toute une histoire = it's quite a story
amicalement = yours, kind regards
un apéro = pre-dinner drink

Would you like to order a set of my postcards from La Ciotat? Click this link for more info. 

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE: KRISTI'S POSTCARDS FROM FRANCE
Bonjour! I have created a limited series of cartes postales from photos I have taken around our seaside town of La Ciotat. These postcards are meaningful as they feature scenes close to home. One pack of postcards is $24 and contains these 6 cards:

1. Horse and Trainer in the Sea
2. Smokey and the Doves
3. The Barber Shop and The Bulldog
4. Villa on the Mediterranean
5. Sunrise and Doves
6. Lili The Cat

--The postcard size is just under 6 inches (5.9 by 5.9)
--The back is completely blank. 
--Each card weighs .30 ounces

Voilà for my special edition of 6 postcards from France. I hope you enjoy them and will consider buying a set for yourself--or for a friend!

The $24 price for 6 assorted postcards (envelopes not included) includes shipping from France. Allow 2-4 weeks for delivery.

Our dining table has become a processing center. Here are stacks of 6 postcards about to go into their envelope. Next, come the French stamps--and on the back of your package another exotic timbre to seal the envelope. Lots of licking is involved: envelope, stamp, stamp, stamp!


That's my daughter's thumb. Jackie was watching me assemble the sets of cards before tucking them into the envelopes and sealing them shut.

"Can you imagine if you sold 2000 of them?" Jackie mused. "You'd have to hire a bunch of lickers!"

Haha! For the moment, I have 33 sets ready to ship. This is a one-woman production. Though I may eventually hire my daughter. She has prettier handwriting and could address the envelopes! 

Thank you for reading about my home-based postcard enterprise. Don't forget to ORDER HERE and thanks in advance!

Taking photos in the French countryside

The Kasbah. Agadir, formerly "Santa Cruz", is located on a seismic line. Agadir was rebuilt after the 1960 earthquake that killed 17000 people and destroyed 60 percent of this city. More about our visit to this former French colony, in today's post.

NEW: The audio section has moved and is now a dual-recording. Jean-Marc pronounces the French and you'll hear my Arizona accent for the English! To access the French/English sound-file, scroll to the vocabulary section. Reading via email? You will need to click over to the website for the full edition.

TODAY’S FRENCH WORD: se ressaisir 

    : to pull yourself together, to buck up

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

I love the slightly old-fashioned expression “to buck up” and its various definitions:

To buck up is to become encouraged, reinvigorated. To pluck up courage. To improve, smarten, to raise the morale of, to cheer up… In French, to buck up could be translated to se ressaisir.

After selling his wine shop, and following his last day as a business owner and gérant, Jean-Marc wanted to travel somewhere warm and sunny for some renewal and cheer. He finally settled on Agadir, Morocco--a 3-hr direct flight from nearby Marseilles.

By Sunday morning we were walking along an exotic beach when my husband turned to look at the giant, white-tipped vagues which draw so many surfers to the area.“I wonder if la mer is warmer here?” 

“The sea?” I grin, but it’s too late, he can’t take it back. And now it’s my turn to have a little fun with Jean-Marc:

“But this is not the sea! It's the ocean.”

How my spouse loves to correct tourists who visit our own station balnéaire, who innocently confuse the sea and the ocean as I often did. But here, on vacation in North Africa, it must be the relaxed state he is in that’s caused the confusion. “Oui, l’océan!” Jean-Marc smiles. "Je sais. Je sais."

“But do you know the difference between the ocean and the sea?” Quizzes Monsieur Smartypants, only to answer his own question: "Une mer est entourée de terre…a sea is surrounded by land.”

"I know, I know." But the truth is I'm just scraping by when it comes to geography. Witness this letter I received from a reader, following my previous post: Richard writes: “A lovely story, but if you were in Agadir, the sun was setting in the Atlantic, not the Mediterranean!”

Oups! The funny part is both Jean-Marc and I missed the error when proofreading the essay.

Here on Agadir plage, on the Atlantic, the beach is so wide and deep and smooth the locals play soccer on the endless sandy field. The sun is rising when a young man with a stick draws a large rectangle over le sable. The rectangles extend down the plage for a half kilometer as a dozen or more teams enjoy early morning practice.

There are a few other women walking on the beach at this early hour. Their heads and sometimes faces are covered with scarves. Up on the hotel terraces overlooking the shoreline, bikini-clad tourists (mostly French) will soon be sunning themselves. Just when I'm feeling super foreign, I notice the soccer players are all playing ball dans leurs chaussettes! As a mom, I can suddenly relate to their moms, who are not going to be happy on laundry day. As exotic as the women here look to me, we are all dealing with the “outdoor sock issue” back home.

Back in our hotel room overlooking the pool and the sea—l’océan—I am tugging at the one-piece bathing suit I’ve ordered online. Yay, it fits…even if it doesn’t fit in with the barely-clad Frenchies. I take that back. It looks like more French women are wearing one pieces....

I’ve settled in poolside when another woman arrives. She sets her beach bag down four chairs away from mine. When she removes her paréo, I see she’s wearing the same black one-piece as me. I reconsider walking past my sosie to get to the pool stairs, where I was headed for a swim. Oh buck up! I think instead. I’m tired of hiding from everything and everybody. Vive la liberté! Freedom calls!

Only, the water in the heated pool is not as warm as the “piscine chauffé” sign would lead one to believe. It is so cold that I regret I didn't follow my husband who just dove into the sea. I mean the ocean. Oh, you know what I mean! 

I leave you with my favorite English verb, to buck up. For the rest of this year, I will be practicing it--even if I never did buck up and dive into... l'Atlantique!
***

That's me being taken for a ride--in both senses. I could have ridden this sweet horse forever, this gentle cheval erased all my fears... for the brief moment we were together. (The unsolicited ride began "for free" and ended up costing a Moroccan day's salary. Thankfully, the berger and the tourist came to a settlement wherein each left with their dignity intact.

Remember the soccer players? Those are socks--and not shoes--on their feet. Ouch! They also kick the ball barefoot! 

Part of the panoramic view from the Kasbah.

BOOKS: The Conquest of Morocco
"...in the mad scramble for African colonies, Morocco had one great attraction for the Europeans: it was available. In 1903, France undertook to conquer the exotic and backward country. By the time World War I broke out the conquest was virtually complete." --from "The Conquest of Morocco"

FRENCH VOCABULARY
se ressaisir = to buck up
le/la gérant(e) = manager
la vague = wave
la station balnéaire = coastal resort, seaside resort
l’océan (m) = ocean
je sais = I know
une mer est entourée de terre = a sea is surrounded by land
oups = whoops
le sable = sand
la plage = beach
dans leurs chaussettes = in their socks
le paréo = beach cover up
le sosie = twin
vive la liberté = long live freedom
la piscine chauffée = heated pool
l’atlantique = the Atlantic

AUDIO FILE & SOME HISTORY
Following the vocabulary list, there is a pause in the recording. Then you will hear the sentence below. (I get a little tongue-tied toward the end!) Do you enjoy these husband/wife recordings? Let us know.

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc and me pronounce the French and English

La langue française fait partie de la vie quotidienne des Marocains. C’est un héritage d’une période de colonisation durant laquelle elle avait même été proclamée langue officielle des institutions coloniales. Aujourd’hui encore, plus d’un demi-siècle après l’indépendance du pays, la langue française reste très répandue au Maroc, notamment dans les secteurs des entreprises privées et de l’éducation. (credit: LeMatin.ma)

The French language is part of the daily life of Moroccans. It is a legacy of a period of colonization during which it was even proclaimed the official language of colonial institutions. Even today, more than half a century after the country's independence, the French language remains widespread in Morocco, particularly in the private business and education sectors.

The handwriting from 1913 reads "north-east side is camp of the riflemen. What else can you say about this postcard? Share your history knowledge in the comments section and add to this post. Merci!




SWEET OF THE WEEK, NO 8: North African pastries, made by our Algerian friends (thanks Sidi and Sidi's mom who made them). Here's a Makroud, a baklava (my favorite!) and a corne de gazelle. So delicious and satisfying with or without mint tea. Ants love them too so don't hide them in your nightstand.

January sunrise. From shore to shore. From surfers to paddle-boarders. After the ocean in Agadir, here is the sea in La Ciotat, near Cassis. Please check out the book list in the side column (or end) of this blog. New books have been added.

Twilight in Agadir, Morocco, in Northwest Africa. Jean-Marc snaps a photo of le coucher du soleil.

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TODAY’S WORD: le crépuscule

    : twilight, dusk, gloaming, nightfall

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO FILE
Listen to all the French in today's story via the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section to check your language comprehension.

Le crépuscule c’est la lumière incertaine qui succède immédiatement au couché du soleil. The twilight is the blurred light that immediately follows the sunset.

French-English Audio file here

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE…by Kristi Espinasse

“Just 5 more minutes,” my husband says, as we gaze at the glowing red Moroccan sky. Jean-Marc’s bare feet are planted in the wet sand on the smooth shore of Agadir. We’ve been standing a long time before le coucher du soleil, until all that remains are ink black lines drowning out the fiery blaze beyond. The horizon resembles molten lava.

Jean-Marc is transfixed by the final curtain on this radiant show called “Nightfall.” Only 5 days ago the curtains were drawn on an episode in his own life. After a chapter called “Rouge-Bleu” and another called “Mas des Brun” (2 vignobles), Jean-Marc has reached the end of the current chapter “La Cave”. He has sold his wine shop and for once in his life he doesn’t have a plan. Looking straight ahead can be blinding.

“Don’t stare at the sun,” Jean-Marc cautioned, taking my hand as the soleil made its descent into the Atlantic. Looking away I catch another glorious scene: all the colors of the sunset are reflecting on the wet sand. C’est merveilleux!

As the sun goes down I close my eyes and carefully make a wish. My vœu is to grow closer and closer to my husband, like the colors melding together on the horizon. 

When next I open my eyes, something magical happens…

THE NEWLYWEDS (Les Jeunes Mariés) 

A few strangers approached us from behind, waving a smartphone. “We were adjusting the settings on our new camera when we got this picture of you two….” The young couple pointed enthusiastically at the phone’s screen.

Jean-Marc and I were caught off guard but were soon reassured by two smiling faces. “We just got married,” the strangers offered and the joyous sparkle in their eyes was contagious.

“Vous êtes en lune de miel? You are on your honeymoon?” Jean-Marc asked, and so began a little conversation in the sunset's afterglow.

Before we said goodbye to les jeunes mariés, I typed my email address into the woman’s phone, thanking her for her offer to send copies of the photos. “It will be a nice souvenir of our trip. Merci beaucoup!” I say, gazing at the image of a peaceful couple—us—holding hands before the sunset. In an instant, our 28-year married life flashes before me. Next, I think about the newlyweds innocently beginning their own nuptial journey. Whoah! Like molten lava it will be beautiful, it will sizzle, and it will sometimes burn.

One thing that will help any marriage, new or decades-old, is the support from friends and family--even the benediction of strangers, and in this case it was reciprocal: in their photo, the young couple captured an ideal image of our union and in return we left them with a blessing.

“Tous nos vœux de bonheur pour un long et heureux mariage! All our wishes of happiness for a long and happy marriage."

Back in our hotel room, I found an email from The Newlyweds, containing the peaceful photo—our best version of our married selves. Sweet and united. “Closer and closer.” Remembering the sparkle in the young couple's eyes I turned to my husband and smiled: In this next chapter we could be newlyweds….

It was just an idea—an inspiration. Because at this point we don’t have a plan for this next chapter. It’s kind of like The Twilight Zone…. Only I don’t want a husband zombie roaming around the house all day. That’s been my turf for the past 5 years while JM was away at the shop all day. I wonder…is anyone out there hiring? I’ve got a stellar candidate who is thoroughly knowledgeable in French wine and who appreciates a good sunset anywhere in the world.  

***

24/7 or full-time housemates in this new chapter. (Only now, at the close of my story, do I understand the irony in my “closer and closer to hubby” wish :-)  Currently, I have put Jean-Marc to work making lunch as I finish typing up this post. Earlier, he washed the windows, changed a burnt-out lightbulb, and swept the front patio. I'm going to keep him busy! (Photo credit: Majdouline B.)
 
IN BOOKS: Your Name Is Renée: Ruth Kapp Hartz's Story as a Hidden Child in Nazi-Occupied France

While in Morocco I had the chance to read Ruth Kapp Hartz's story "Your Name is Renee". I have read many Holocaust accounts and this one is especially touching as it is the survival story of a friend and reader of this journal--and it takes place in France. Thank you, Ruth, and Stacy Cretzmeyer (who told Ruth's story) for this unforgettable read. Interestingly there were several mentions of Morocco as Ruth's father initially avoided deportation by joining the French Foreign Legion in Morocco. Please check out Ruth's book.)


Ruth (center) and Monique visited us at our vineyard in 2009. 

Barry, Ruth, and Monique tasting Jean-Marc's wine at our first vineyard.


Ruth also sent this snapshot from our kitchen at the vineyard. It's a sweet souvenir. Merci, Ruth. I hope others will read your highly recommended book.

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

le crépuscule = twilight, dusk

le coucher du soleil = sunset

le vignoble = vineyard

le soleil = sun

la cave = wine shop

la lune de miel  = honeymoon 

C’est merveilleux! = it’s magnificent

le vœu= wish

les jeunes mariés = young married couple

Tous nos vœux de bonheur pour un long et heureux mariage! All our wishes of happiness for a long and happy marriage.

Sweet of the Week, No 7: "Les Pâtisseries Marocaines." On our third night in Agadir, we ordered room service. We shared a vegetarian pizza and, for dessert, these chewy honey and nut cookies. I hid several in the nightstand and was punished for hoarding them when a bunch of ants invaded my side of the bed!

Early morning in the bay of La Ciotat. Happy Saturday to all. Jean-Marc and I have a surprise for you in the sound clip below: he reads the French term and I pronounce the English.

TODAY'S WORD: "se faire avoir comme un bleu"

    : to be fooled, to be had, to fall hook, line, and sinker, 

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO FILE
Listen to all the French words in today's story via the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section and check your language comprehension.

Click here for the sound clip

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Last week, while opening Christmas presents, our 27-year-old thanked us for the money. "I need to buy an oven and this should help...un peu." 

Un peu? I wondered, but before I could question Max, he hinted: "Appliances are expensive these days."

"Well, just how expensive?" I asked. Just what does un four go for nowadays?

“3900 euros.”

"What?! Thirty-nine hundred euros  for an oven? That's crazy!" It must be due to all the shortages at the moment. Prices have skyrocketed! Mentally going over the price of milk, eggs, hamburger, and now ovens, I was about to elbow Jean-Marc, to signal to him that we needed to cough up some more Christmas cash if our son was going to be able to cook for himself over at his new digs. That's when Max began to snicker. 

“Tu m’as eu! You really had me going, Max! You are SUCH a turkey!”

Or maybe I'm the turkey--the birdbrain for falling for it. The upside to all this trickery is that when I finally learned the cost of the oven Max is interested in, the price seemed like a steal. Un bon coup.  A real bargain! One I personally wouldn't want to see him miss out on. 

(Maybe that was my son's plan all along?)

I'm not sure when our son will buy the oven. Yet I know there will be many more meals for us, chez Max, once he is better equipped to feed his birdbrained investors. But I'm no dummy. I'm bringing a very big plate and lots of Tupperware to steal away with leftovers. What a bargain that will all add up to one day.

***

Thanks, Ana, for this picture 

Max invited us over for dinner Thursday night. No oven yet but he was a dynamo with his frying pan! He loves to cook and is a natural host and entertainer. Here he is with his godfather, Fred, left, wife Béné, and a few “investors” on the right. I forgot my Tupperware so I guess I’m not that smart after all. We devoured Max’s homemade spring rolls, and his fried Jiaozi (Chinese dumplings) and some simplified Jambalaya. Jean-Marc made bananes flambées for dessert, comme d’habitude.

FRENCH VOCABULARY
se faire avoir comme un bleu = to be had
un peu = a little
un four = oven
un bon coup = a great deal, a steal
la banane flambée = Bananas Foster
comme d’habitude = as usual

HISTORY of today’s  French Expression
The expression "se faire avoir comme un bleu" goes back to the XIXth century and comes from a military environment where the "bleu" (blue uniform) signified a young recruit without experience. Se faire avoir comme un bleu = to be had (like a new recruit).

(Another) SWEET OF THE WEEK, No. 6: La Galette des Rois. January 6th is Epiphany. Throughout France you will see the King cake in all its glory (or variation). Here is a traditional one just out of the oven where it was reheated. Photo taken years ago at Mas des Brun, with our golden, Smokey, looking in. Missing his innocent and sweet presence at our window.

Back to this traditional cake, reader Laurence S. shared some nostalgia in the comments:  “La Galette des rois. So delicious with its buttery phyllo dough and marzipan filling. And so fun also the tradition to have a little charm hidden inside. The one who gets it, is crowned with a golden paper crown. On January 6 the French celebrate the arrival of the Three Wise Men to Bethlehem and it is also the day, we used to take down the Christmas decorations in my family. Happy New Year to all.”

From our home to yours, Bonne Année! Meilleurs Voeux. That's Mom's re-domesticated cat, Lili, in her own mini "condo" (her zebra pillow on the old trunk), chez Jules.

Today's Words: Amour, Paix

: Love, Peace

EXAMPLE SENTENCE & AUDIO FILE
Listen to all the French words in today's story via the sound file below. Then scroll to the vocabulary section and check your language comprehension.

Click here for the audio file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
Amour et Paix

In Paris, one million people descended upon Le Champs Elysées to bring in the New Year. The radio news went on to share the two most overheard wishes from the crowd: AMOUR & PAIX. The French were cheering for Love and Peace in 2023!

Well, if that wasn't a sign. Earlier in the morning, January 1st, this lève-tôt stood in front of her kitchen window, looking out at the black sky. I was quietly searching for a meaningful word for the year. "Patience" seemed like a good one. Then there was "gratitude".... Better yet, was there an antonym for "grumbly"? Because in Twenty-Twenty-Three I want to quit grumbling. No more "Who put an empty plate back in the fridge? Grrr! Who left shoe prints all over the clean floor? Aargh! And does anyone ever clean up after me? Harrumph! (That last thought stopped me in my grumblesome tracks. One day someone else may indeed have to clean up after me... Attention à ce que tu souhaites!)

Over coffee, I opened up our daily devotional to read to Jean-Marc. The opening scripture was opportun:
 
"And now abides faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love." Or maintenant ces trois choses demeurent: la foi, l'esperance, l'amour; mais la plus grande de ces choses, c'est l'amour. 1 Corinthians 13:13

LOVE! Mais bien sûr! Amour is the perfect word 2023--for eternity. Amour overrides all others--Indeed, love covers a multitude of sin. Think of it. Have you stumbled lately and been forgiven? Does anything feel better than forgiveness? What is the power behind le pardon? 

Love.

Love softens. Love is a balm. Love energizes.

It motivates
it never hates

Love humbles us
it opens us

it repairs and restores
Love opens up doors!

Love wizens
shows new horizons

Love is simple, unafraid, willing to risk
Love is an unfinished poem... a broken stanza, this one.

Love is everything.

A Love Year to all. Forgive yourselves and forgive others. Let's move ahead, amoureusement, two steps forward--one step back. All that matters is to keep on The Love Track.

Heart, heart, heart,

Kristi

In French History: "The Elysian Fields"
Regarding the Love-cheering crowd or foule on the Champs Elysées in Paris... Did you know:
"The origins of the Champs-Élysées can be traced to 1640 when space was cleared to plant a line of trees, which would later become an avenue. The name translates to “Elysian Fields” from the Greek mythology, meaning resting place of Greek gods and dead heroes, similar to the Christian paradise." --Introducing Paris

Jean-Marc spotted the first mimosa of the season on January 3rd, while on our walk. I am (or used to be?) allergic to the fluorescent yellow flower but enjoy a vase full of these blossoms when offered by a neighbor. 

FRENCH VOCABULARY
bonne année = happy new year
meilleurs voeux = best wishes, Season's Greetings
l'amour = love
la paix = peace
le (la) lève-tôt = early bird, early riser
attention à ce que tu souhaites = be careful what you wish for
opportun = timely
mais bien sûr = but of course
le pardon = forgiveness
amoureusement = lovingly
la foule = crowd
la barbe-à-papa = "Daddy's beard" or cotton candy (photo below)


Sweet of the Week, No. 5: "Le Café Gourmand" - "Coffee with a dessert selection" is a popular entry on a French dessert menu. It's a perfect choice for fence-sitters. Help me name some of the mini-desserts on this plate from Restaurant Le White in Serre Chevalier. I'll begin with that pink cloud you see over the chocolate mousse. The French have a delightful term for cotton candy: la barbe-à-papa (Daddy's beard).