FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

Our story begins in Le Beausset... just over the hill from Bandol.

TODAY'S WORD: Ratiboiser

    : to chop
    : to plunder, pinch, swipe 

Ratiboiser also means "couper à ras" (to cut very short). When you return from the hairdresser's and your locks were cut too short, you could say, "Ils m'ont ratiboisé les cheveux. They completely cut my hair!"

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

This weekend was full, plein, rempli, like the olives trees we picked samedi. "Ils sont cafis !" my friend Sophie remarked, arriving at the field with her bucket and olive rake. Cafi! now there's a cool slang word to add to our repertoire, dear reader! Follow along and we will gather a few more…along with a ton of olives.

Saturday's olive harvest would've been another chance for our new dog to adapt to a different environment, but we decided to leave Ricci at home with Grandma Jules. Une bonne décision as several cats showed up to the oliveraie to check out all the activity.

At Vava and Laurent's in Le Beausset, some 300 olive trees were waiting to be picked for this year's récolte d'olives. Jean-Marc and I were the first volunteers to arrive to la cueillette. We helped to spread out a net on the ground to catch the olives, then we each grabbed a hand rake to comb the olive branches, a technique that is easy on the trees and saves time. The wet ground was already soaking my sneakers and it was chilly out, making me wonder if things were going to get uncomfortable fast. With only 5 pickers, the picking was slow so we eased the pain by joking about when our friends—les renforts—would finally arrive (this happened around 11 a.m., suspiciously close to l'heure de l’apéro…). At that point the sun finally made its way over the hill and the group livened up thanks to some new helpers qui a la tchatche--who have the gift of gab.

Seated on an upturned bucket, raking the cut branches for more olives, I listened to the conversations going on around the olive grove. Topics ranged from age-gap marriage to Japanese toilets (the estate had a "Boku" bidet. The popular brand is a saucy play on the words "beau" and "cul" or "beautiful butt," which refers to the desired outcome after using the fesse-cleaning apparatus). As you can imagine, such talk leads to innuendo--something the French excel at. Even if I didn’t understand all the words lingering in the air above me, there were others up for grabs along with all those olives.

”What do you call this?” Vava's sister, Geraldine, asked, waving a peignes à olives.

"A rake," I answered.

“Rake….” Geraldine repeated, making a few associations to drill the new word into memory. “Rake…Rateau…. Ratiboiser... “

Ratiboiser—that one sounded familiar. It means “to pilfer, plunder, or “to make off with.” After we'd plundered or made off with 200 kilos of olives, it was time for lunch. Jean-Marc headed to the BBQ, to cook some merguez and chipolatas, while Vava beelined over to the kitchen. The long harvest table began to fill with food, including a plateau de charcuterie (featuring sliced salami, rillettes, and pâté. Wine was passed around and my friend Sophie surprised me with a special non-alcoholic drink in a beautiful sangria glass decorated with lots of fresh mint. What a treat! Next, we sat down to homemade eggplant lasagna, sausages, and baked chicken. One of the friends, Jean-Michel, brought along a prized magnum from his collection—a bottle of Jean-Marc’s “Zero Watt,” a wine my husband made “without electricity,” when we moved to St. Cyr-sur-Mer in 2012, to our own olive farm and future vineyard. That wine and today’s olive harvest brought back bittersweet memories, but volunteering at our friend’s harvest helps in its own way: for one, we get to use what skills we gained in the 10 years we harvested our own fields, and one of those skills is, simply, the ability to show up early and prepared.

One thing about arriving first to the olive harvest is... less guilt when leaving early and missing the grueling afternoon shift. As mentioned, we had a full agenda Saturday. It was time now to get ready for a birthday party. So after we plundered the buffet we kissed Vava and Laurent goodbye and waved au revoir et bon après-midi to our friends, the olive-picking crew.  “See you next year, bright and early!” 

COMMENTS
To leave a comment or a correction to this post, click here. I'd love to know which city you are writing in from!

Kristi and Vava. There is one of the hand rakes used to harvest the olives.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to all the words below in French and in English

rempli = full
plein = full
cafi = full of
une bonne décision = a good decision
une oliveraie = olive grove
un peigne = comb
la récolte d’olives = olive harvest
la cueillette = harvest
le renfort = the backup crew, the reinforcement
l’heure de l’apéro = cocktail hour
qui à la tchatche = who has the gift of gab
les fesses = butt 
ratiboiser = to pilfer, plunder
rillettes = a kind of pâté 

REMERCIEMENTS
Thank you for the most lovely comments following this blog's 21st birthday. Your words are deeply touching and will remain in my heart forever! And sincere thanks to the following readers who sent in a blog donation this past week!

Bob M.
Beth M.
Julie C.
Elaine M.
Diane B.
Allen L. 
Susan B.
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Martha S.
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Cricket H.
Kazuko C.
Elizabeth J.
Jo-Anne Y.
Elizabeth L.
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Suzanne & Don
Elaine & Michael K.
Suzanne & RoseAnn

Congratulations- your insights and humor add value to each of our lives. Jo-Anne

I look forward to reading your weekly edition.  I love that you and Jean-Marc continue to explore, create & reinvent your lives & work. Elaine

My dear friend Kathy C, living in Phoenix told me about your blog when you first began. It was a pleasure visiting you at your last two homes and hope we will do it again soon. Keep up the good writing. Elaine and Michael

Congratulations, Kristin! Your blog is a source of happiness for me! Thank you! Here's to many, many more years! Catherine L.,  San Diego, CA

Bonjour Kristi! Congratulations on your 21st! I’ve been enjoying your journal since long ago I can’t remember when. Loved your book, too. Just wanted to send my Gratitude and lots of Love and Light to you! Thank you for being beautiful YOU! Kazuko

In this vintage Land Rover, which the brothers-in-law share, the morning's olive harvest is stacked in les caisses de récolte, ready to be pressed at the olive mill.

Kristi and Ricci. Sunday marks 4 weeks since we brought 3-year-old Ricci home from Aveyron. Her appetite has grown, she now barks when strangers come to her home, and she loves the beach. It's a joy to see her personality unfold. 

A partir de ce weekend this journal begins its third decade! Here's my sister Heidi's scrumptious chocolate cake to celebrate.

TODAY'S WORD: JOYEUX ANNIVERSAIRE!

    : Happy birthday!

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
On Saturday this language and life blog celebrates its 21st birthday. Just think...if it were American it could legally drink. If it were French it could now drive a 7.5-ton vehicle. But having been born and bred, né et élévé, in France, this journal is some sort of wine-spitting hybrid. De toute façon, as we’ve discovered over the years, there are cooler ways to mark an occasion than by inebriation or barreling down the road in a Big Rig. 

Could anybody tell me just what those are? 

Only kidding—je rigole! I would like to shower this brief update in a thousand thanks, mille mercis to you for tuning in each week and giving me a reason to show up and write, whether or not la muse is present. Heureusement, creative inspiration isn’t mandatory when addressing someone who loves and supports you. I am blessed to receive your care and enthusiasm and this is what keeps me trucking into my 22nd year. You, dear reader!

You have taught me spelling and grammar. Helped edit and publish my stories. Sent cheers in happy times and condolences in sad ones. Voted for the right wine label or book cover or city (when it was time to move on). You have been subscribed for days or years and perhaps never reached out, yet your faithful subscribership has built this journal's foundation. Quietly or not, you are there, keeping me on top, in tune, and in touch with the creative thread of my days in time to weave the story of this French life one post at a time. 

COMMENTS
To leave a comment, click here. I would love to know how you found this blog and for how long you have been reading! 

Both cake photos are from the archives. The cake, above, was for my son's birthday. He is now 28! My sister Heidi made the first cake for Jackie's 21st (she is now 26). This journal began when the kids were 5- and 7-years-old. The blog archives help jog my memory!

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to the French and English words

joyeux anniversaire = happy birthday
soufflons la bougie = let's blow out the candle
à partir de ce weekend = beginning this weekend
né et élévé = born and bred
de toute façon = in any case
je rigole =  I'm kidding
mille mercis = a thousand thanks
la muse = creative inspiration
heureusement = happily
pareillement = in the same way
remarquez (imperative) remarquer = come to think of it
bien amicalement = warmly

REMERCIEMENTS 
Thanks in advance to readers sending in a blog donation for the first time, and to my returning patrons listed below. Your support keeps the wheels of this digital journal turning, and I am truly grateful!

Peter J.
Chris K.
Carla W.
Duncan M.
Tammy S.
Suzanne D.
Laurence S.

”For NZ. . . have a nice glass or two of vino for us.” —Suzanne D.

"Kristi, thank you for your charming, honest and inspiring column which always is a pleasure to read. I've studied French since college and love hearing about your insights into French culture. Amicalement, Carla!"

VIDEO CLIP
The following video of Ricci (our new dog) was posted on Instagram. You may need to click over to the site to see it.

Random photo: Fishermen working together during boat maintenance season in La Ciotat. See you next week with more words and stories from France. Meantime, thank you for sharing this post with a friend!

From the Mediterranean to Nouvelle Zéalande--Jean-Marc will be a traveling winemaker once again. After making wine in Italy (Sicily), The United States (Oregon), and around France, ce vigneron will now experience a longtime dream of blending grapes in New Zealand! We would like to thank Whitehaven Wines for this amazing opportunity! Read my husband's update, below, for more details.

Cheers,

Jean-Marc
[email protected]

COMMENTS
To leave a comment, click here. It is a real pleasure to read your notes and stories. Merci!

Jean-Marc and our newest family member, Ricci, pose in front of a local Kayak stand here in La Ciotat. 

REMERCIEMENTS
Sincere thanks and appreciation to readers who sent in a blog donation this past week. Your support helps me continue developing this blog, which is more than a creative outlet: it is a place to learn, reflect, and exchange.   

Clare W.
Wynn C.
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Linda H.
Lynne K.
Leona A.
Audrey R.
C-Marie P.
Nackey P.
Patricia N.
Georgia H.
Graham C.
Maureen D. 
Natalia, Rod, & The Mignons 

"Ricci is precious!! Thank you for the pictures!! God bless!!" C. P.

“If poets made more money, I'd support you more often--I love your column and feel great fondness for you and your family, and now your new dog, Ricci.” Lynne K.

Family portrait: Max, his grandmother Jules, Izzy, and Ricci.

Ciao from Ricci! See you next week (or, for the latest photo, follow me on Instagram)

UN BERGER = SHEPHERD

After one year and three months sans chien, we are overjoyed to announce the arrival of our newest family member: "Ricci". She is a 3-year-old Mini Australian Shepherd and she hails from une ferme in Aveyron. 

Ten days ago, at a party, I was chatting with Corinne about her mini Aussie. "We love those dogs," I said, "but aren’t they a bit nervous?" Corinne, visibly gaga about her Berger Américain (as they are called in France), assured me le tempérament depends on the owner. With that in mind, I began to dream about these lovely dogs once again…

By the next day, Jean-Marc was combing through ads on Le BonCoin when he came across "Penny" a 4.5-year-old BAM (Berger Américain). Before we knew it, we were headed 5 hours north to a cow and cannabis* farm, where the busy owner was phasing out her dog breeding business. She had two adult females available: Penny and her 3-year-old cousin, Ricci. 

We had come all this way to see Penny, but understood right away she was not for us. "We live on a busy street," I explained. "We can't have a barker...the neighbors would not like it." Behind the chain-linked fence, there was another dog, who was a lot calmer and she was making eyes at us. "Who is that?" I asked.  

"C'est Ricci."

“Could we please see her?” With that, the gate was opened and both dogs bolted out, running circles past the chickens, over to the barn, and back. Ricci came when the breeder called her and I took her into my lap. She was thoughtful and calm for a moment and I knew, of the two dogs, she was the better bet.

My daughter had cautioned me to only take the dog if there was un coup de coeur - a lighting-strike attraction. This sort of put the brakes on things as I was not instantly enamored. I was, in fact, full of hesitation. But I couldn't be sure, either, if I wanted to leave without Ricci. We had come so far...we could make this work...fingers crossed this wasn’t a mistake. One final thought sealed the deal: Grandma will love her no matter what.

"We don't have a leash," I said.

"She's never been on a leash," the farmer replied, adding she was very sorry there might be some fleas….

"Assis!" I said to Ricci, to get a closer look, but the little shepherd did not respond.
"She doesn't know any commands..." the farmer explained.

Because this seemed like a risky transaction, and considering the upcoming expenses (sterilization? vaccination?) I negotiated the price down as far as possible. I reasoned, privately, that if we returned home and there were no surprises with this adult dog (hip replacement surgery?--I'd heard horror stories), I could eventually send a donation to the farmer to make up for any losses on her part.

Ricci now in the passenger’s seat, on my lap, I picked off as many fleas as possible during the 6-hour ride home. Our seat was also soaked in saliva, even so, the long voyage went better than expected. The closeness helped form a kind of bond, but, after reaching her new home, Ricci was running into walls. She didn't understand door-windows, and banged right into our porte vitrée. The "dog bed" concept threw her as well. And the flush of a toilet, the vacuum, the garbage truck…just about any sudden bruit had her running for cover and making puddles around the house, in the bed, and on the couch. The former “Berger” from Aveyron may as well have been dropped off on Planet Mars.

She’s been on high alert since landing here near the beach in La Ciotat. There will be so much to learn for her and for us, but thankfully, everyone in our family is smitten by cette petite Louloutte, and ready to help.
"I'm Max! You'll be seeing a lot of me," my son said, taking her calico face into his hands and gently caressing her. And when she freaked out on the leash with me, Max's girlfriend, Ana, tried a different approach by first presenting the leash for Ricci to sniff. Gradually, Ana was able to coax her out into the garden, with Max cheering her on.

Grandma Jules is over the moon and inspired "Reece is so paintable! I’m just crazy about her!”
“Mom, her name is ‘Ricci’, that’s Ree-Chee like the perfume Nina Ricci... (but "Reece" is sweet, reminiscent of the peanut-butter cups I loved as a kid).

“I'm going to call her Chi-chi,” Jackie already decided, via video chat as we all gathered for Ricci's first night home.

Ana calls her "Ma Petite Puce," a popular term of endearment in France (but also appropriate given Ricci was teaming with fleas.). On day two Ana returned to help give Ricci a chewable medication for the fleas, the ticks, and any potential worms. And it worked immediately. 

What a whirlwind two days it has been since bringing Ricci home: loads of laundry, retraining, shopping (leash, bed, food, toys), and agitated sleeping. But we've enjoyed every minute. Speaking of time, that coup de coeur Jackie insisted on may not have been instant, but it came after a leap of faith.

Whether a coup or a leap, all that matters is that our dog is here. Bienvenue, dear Ricci. We love you already!

COMMENTS
To leave a comment about our new dog, or any sort of advice on welcoming an adult farm dog to the city, click here.
Will Ricci's startle reflex calm down? Will she continue to make puddles when scared? Advice welcome and appreciated.

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

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

sans chien = without dog
une ferme = farm
Le Berger Américain = Mini Australian Shepherd 
le tempérament = disposition 
la porte vitrée  = glass door
le bruit = noise
mon loulou, ma louloute = affectionate term for pooch, pup
ma petite puce = my little flea

*Le cannabigérol est un composé de la plante de chanvre. Cannabigerol is a compound found in the hemp plant.

REMERCIEMENTS
Thanks in advance to readers considering sending in a blog donation for the first time. Your contribution will go a long way not only in backing this journal but also in encouraging me to keep writing. Your support means a lot, and I'm truly grateful. Amicalement, Kristi

Ina D.
Kim S.
Mike P.
Kristi S.
Paula P.
Jackie W.
Catherine L.
Randolph C

“Thank you for these blogs. They are very helpful.” Kim S.

 “Merci Kristi. I love your charming stories.” Catherine L.

In the car during the ride home from the farm in Aveyron and, finally, on an evening walk on the beach here in La Ciotat.

Amidst fragrant parasol pine trees, see the charming blue umbrellas, lower right, in front of a highly sought-after restaurant and its terrace over the sea. Hiking down toward this turquoise paradise we had no idea it was a "no clothes" cove...  Too late, there was no turning back--not when we'd reserved a table at Chez Jo a week in advance!

To View All Photos, click here to visit the blog

TODAY’S WORD: "se rincer l'oeil" ("to rinse the eye")

    : to get an eyeful, to see too much of something

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Last week we traveled back to the area of Cavalaire, for our 29th lune de miel. Our destination was a little over an hour's drive from home, and we made it there by 11 a.m. Jean-Marc kept asking me if I recognized the surroundings, but it had been 20 years since we took the kids here. "Look, there’s Fort Brégançon. Maybe Bribri and Manu will invite us for lunch?" Jean-Marc smiled toward the Presidential vacation residence (and now I can vaguely remember him saying the same when Chirac was president). 

La Plage de Cabasson (with a view of the medieval fortress out at sea) is beautiful at the end of September and its crystal clear waters were almost warm. We walked to the far end of the beach to spread out our towels and put up a large parasol. It felt so good to get into the Mediterranean and wade up and down the shoreline while Jean-Marc snorkled near the rocky outcrop. Drying off, we left our serviettes on the beach and enjoyed lunch at La Cabasse, where I toasted to Jean-Marc: so far this had been 20 sur 20--a top score for his well-planned itinerary. Bravo!

View of Fort Brégançon from the mainland, at Plage de Cabasson.

We'll skip talking about our quirky hotel but it may have been a herald for Day Two.... which was set to be the highlight of our trip. Our son Max insisted we go to La Plage du Layet to eat at the incontournable “Chez Jo”. We decided to again bring our towels and parasol for a “free” spot in the cove, and then splurge on lunch at the gourmet restaurant. But as we made our way down into the beach, any excitement about our plans quickly turned to panic when we passed a sign along the path that read "PLAGE NATURISTE"....

"A naturiste beach. Are you kidding me?"

"I had no idea," my husband swore.

"I can't believe this! The restaurant is part of une plage naturiste!"

"We can go somewhere else if you want!" Jean-Marc was as surprised as I was.

I was more annoyed than anything, and that energy made me stubborn: “No! I don't want to go somewhere else!” I wanted to be near the restaurant our son had raved about, where we had made reservations well in advance. There was no backing out now. We'd figure it out when we arrived! 

Hiking around the last bend I saw the restaurant to the right, and to the left a blur of skin...de la peau à gogo.

"Bonjour," I said to the waiter. "We have reservations for lunch. But we'd like to go to the beach first. Do you rent matelas?" We had not planned on springing for lounge chairs, but this was an emergency! Designated chairs could be our ticket to more conventional digs in this unconventional cove.

"Yes," he smiled, pointing to the rental chair area. But none of the clients were dressed there either. Not a single thread anywhere to be seen.

"We'll take those two," I quickly decided, indicating the last two chairs nearest the restaurant. I dropped my bag on the sand and exhaled. I'd already decided I was not stripping down. I'd rather feel the embarrassment of being the only suit-wearing wuss at the beach (and what a suit--it was the same one I brought to Morocco, out of respect for the culture. It covered a lot of ground)!

Forming a human shield, Jean-Marc took the chair nearest the crowd and surprised me by keeping his swim trunks on. (In solidarity? I'll never know for sure.) Next, he grabbed his snorkel mask and confidently strode out to sea, disappearing into the water.

Alone, I fussed with our towels and pretended to be completely at ease as the odd one out. My eyes darted left, then right. Groups of unabashed senior citizens stood along the shoreline, casually chatting. I wanted to get into the water, too, but not if it meant The Walk of Humiliation. My paranoid side was certain the naturists were having a good laugh at my expense. Well then, let them. Qu'ils rigolent!

I shot up and walked with dignity across the shore, and fell quickly into the water. Swimming out far enough, I turned to look back at the beach and got quite an eyeful: sitting, lounging, reading, chatting, and strolling, there was the flock of nudes. And here, dans son maillot uni noir, ONE BLACK SHEEP. 

And what is a black sheep if not a rebel? The thought was amusing enough to carry me confidently through the awkward experience--in time to bare all in a lively story for you today. So hats off (and almost everything else) to the unintended adventures Life brings us.
  

Post Note: What a relief to see everyone put on their clothes for lunch (up until the last minute I couldn't be sure about the restaurant's dress code). After lunch, one other bathing-suited couple showed up, thank God!, and quickly put down towels near ours. Finally, a family of four arrived, and they were quick to sit near us too. 

As for any naturistes who may be reading this now...I hope you are laughing along with me. I leave you with a good address—La Plage du Layet in Cavalaire—for the next time you visit the south of France. Allez-y! 

COMMENTS
To leave a comment, click here. Thanks in advance for your comments or corrections. I appreciate it!

Loved visiting the town of Lavandou, and the message on the door "Soyons heureux"--Be Happy. Do you think this one would make a good postcard for the La Carte Postale collection?

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc and me pronounce the vocabulary
se rincer l'oeil = to have an eyeful
la lune de miel = honeymoon
Bribri et Manu = Brigitte and Emmanuel Macron
le parasol = beach umbrella 
la serviette = towel
l'incontournable = must see
la peau = skin
à gogo = galore
le matelas = lounge chair on the beach
Qu'ils rigolent = they can go ahead and laugh
le maillot uni noir = black one-piece

REMERCIEMENTS 

Thanks in advance to readers considering sending in a blog donation for the first time. Your contribution will go a long way not only in backing this journal but also in encouraging me to keep writing. Your support means a lot, and I'm truly grateful. Amicalement, Kristi

Jim B.
Vicki B.
Julie S.
Janet D.
Linda F.
Jennie J.
Linda Kay F. 

“Joyeux anniversaire de marriage! Love your mom’s comment.” Linda F.

"Merci beaucoup Kristi et Jean-Marc! I’ve been looking forward to reading this memoir for over a year and have finally made time." Jennie

Provence Wine Tour near Aix. The weather was spectacular for Jean-Marc's most recent vineyard visit to Chateau Ferry Lacomb in Trets-en-Provence. Many thanks, Louis, Janet, and John for reserving a specialized French wine tour with Jean-Marc. It was lovely to meet you! 

If you are still thinking of moving to France, click the book cover to read about an American family who moves to Nice.

Today's story is part wedding anniversary, part birthdays, part peanuts, and part people. You have already read a little about Max's girlfriend, and today you'll learn more about Ana (and why we love her).

Are the photos in this newsletter appearing? If not, view all of them here at the blog.

TODAY'S WORD: “Qui réchauffe le cœur”

 : heartwarming, that which warms the heart

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

This week marks 29 years since Jean-Marc and I walked the matrimonial carpet at La Paroisse Saint Antoine de Padoue in Marseilles, inching our way down the cathedral's central passage toward a no-going-back "Oui" or I do!

It is hard to believe almost three decades have passed since tying the knot here in France. I had to laugh, recently, overhearing my husband make a dermatological appointment for each of us, proof we are barreling toward retirement ensemble.
"Chérie," my husband says, putting his hand over the phone. "C'est pour un contrôle, oui?"
"Oui," I nod. Yes, just a checkup.

After making the dreaded yearly appointment, we rejoined our grown kids, including Ana (Max's petite amie whom we've adopted along with her two dogs) on the front porch, for a celebratory lunch. I've got my sunhat on, for prevention and to keep my rosacea at bay, and Jean-Marc has cranked out a fabric awning over our terrasse. These days even he can't tolerate le soleil. 

As I'm setting the table, Max calls out, "Maman, il y a des vers dans les cacahuètes!"
Worms in the peanuts? Mon Dieu! I beeline over to where the kids were enjoying an apéro, to find the jar of nuts slithering. I'm so embarrassed for Ana to see this! As for my kids, it wouldn't be the first time they've found expired food chez nous. And my son is quick to point it out! Honestly, now that it's just Jean-Marc and me at home, the food doesn't circulate as often. (I can't speak for my own Mom, who lives in a studio around the side of our house, with her own pantry and fridge.)

"Max, please toss those peanuts into the compost!" I urged, before escaping to the kitchen to recompose myself. But it was too late, all my sloppy and negligent parts had spilled out into the light of day. Gone was the cool urban housewife-writer I may have been trying to impersonate; in her place, a negligent nut (that is to say I should've been seated outside with my family, instead the lively nuts took center stage). 

Returning to the front patio, still red in the face (not from rosacea this time...) I found Max, Jackie, and Ana on the ground, beside a few small piles of peanut shells. Nearby, dans les parages, a flock of familiar doves paced back and forth in anticipation.

"What are you guys doing?" 

"We are preparing the peanuts for the birds," Ana explained, heading The Stale Peanut Initiative.

"But you don't have to bother with that..."

"Ce n'est rien," Ana assured me.

"But the worms..."

"The birds love them!" Ana pointed out. Beside her, Max sat on the gravel, using the kitchen scissors to cut up the rubbery cacahuètes--and Ana and Jackie were using their fingers to break up the peanuts. As for the slithering vermin? Même pas peur! The industrious trio was too busy feeding the hungry to worry about a few unsavory visitors.

In the end, the kidults cracked every nut (even this one, who overcame the embarrassment). Those stale legumes became fodder for the doves that have been struggling since the drought. It was heartwarming to see these young people salvaging those peanuts. They could have easily chucked them into the compost, instead, they considered the birds.  

“Look at those beautiful kids. You and Jean-Marc are truly blessed. Happy anniversary!” Jules raised her glass and sipped some champagne from the apéro, as I updated her on all the activity out in the yard. 

After our 29th anniversary lunch, a day after Mom’s 77th birthday, I brought out the chocolate cake Jean-Marc had chosen for Jackie’s birthday and we sang Joyeux Anniversaire to our daughter who recently turned 26. What a week of special days! It was a lot to keep up with. No wonder those worms slinked by unnoticed. This cool urban housewife’s been busy with more important things, like writing about all these blessings.


    COMMENTS: To comment, click here

 

Les Tourterelles and Izzy the Beagle.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc and me pronounce these words:

Qui réchauffe le coeur = heartwarming
Ensemble = together
Chérie, Cheri = dear
pour un contrôle = for a checkup 
La petite amie = girlfriend 
la terrasse = patio
le soleil = sun
Maman, il y a des vers dans les cacahuètes! = Mom there are worms in the peanuts!
l’apéro = before dinner drinks and munchies
chez nous = at our place
ce n’est rien = it’s nothing
la cacahuète = peanut 
même pas peur = it doesn’t scare me
la tourterelle = dove, turtledove
Joyeux anniversaire! = happy birthday! 


Mom walked me down the aisle in her black tuxedo. To the right, my French mom, Christine, who hosted me during my 1989 exchange program in Lille, France.

September 24, 1994. At the evening celebration and dinner, after our church wedding

REMERCIEMENTS
Sincere thanks to readers who recently sent in a blog donation, jumpstarting the fall season of future stories and vocabulary. I appreciate your help in publishing this journal week after week. Ça réchauffe le cœur! --Kristi

Rob B.
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"Thanks for the time you take to write your blog and share your stories." Marcy W.

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Here’s to our anniversary! I loved my Mom’s comment after she realized how long Jean-Marc and I have been married:
“29 years? That’s a record, Honey. Most people have married 3 or 4 times by then!” Sacré Mama Jules. (Jules, you are one of a kind, xoxo)

Click on the book cover, above, to discover a new, French-themed read for the week.

One of the prestations Jean-Marc offers within his wine business is Provence vineyard tours. Sometimes I get to join him--especially when my sister is the customer! Read on in today’s histoire.

TODAY'S WORD: La Prestation

    : a service, offering, performance

Translation of opening sentence into French:
L'une des prestations que Jean-Marc propose dans le cadre de son entreprise autour du vin est la visite de vignobles.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

C’est la rentrée and Jean-Marc’s vineyard tours are off to a promising start this fall season thanks to an unexpected client: ma soeurette. (Not to be confused with ma soeur aînée, Heidi in Denver.)

My little sister Kelley, her husband, Brad, his 5 fraternity brothers, and their wives are here visiting from Seattle, renting connected villas in Roussillon. Because the group shares an appreciation of fine wines, mon beau-frère et petite soeur asked Jean-Marc to show them some typical southern French wine estates.

Mais avec plaisir!

Last Friday in Châteauneuf-du-Pape the skies were a rich Provencal blue and the air refreshing after the recent canicule. Fields of leafy green vines flanked the narrow chemin leading up to the partly-standing chateau. Cruising towards this historic landmark, we were suddenly engulfed in a familiar scene: tractors, buckets, secateurs, and vendangeurs…. This visceral environment we were now experiencing was none other than our old stomping grounds—et c’est le cas de le dire.

Excited to be back during harvest time, I lowered my window to inhale the scent of crushed grapes as Jean-Marc sped toward the chateau ruins, where our tour was about to begin. 

Entering the Southern Rhone village from the north side, Uncle Jean-Claude's caveau, came into view and it was like passing through a movie set. This part of town was untouched, as one had left it decades ago…. From the passenger seat I recognized the patina of old stone buildings which filed by in a blur of nostalgie. What a privilege it was to have spent so much time here during harvest--even if, back then, the overriding feeling was when are we going to stop picking grapes for the day? And stop sniffing for "la pourriture" or Noble Rot?

Here we were back, now, as tourists, having swapped our grape-stained t-shirts and caps for linen and straw hats. Pulling into the chateau parking lot I spotted my sister Kelley! A giant hug soon bridged our one-year separation. My brother-in-law, Brad, joined us, followed by his fraternity brothers and their wives. After a warm introduction, Jean-Marc stood in front of the massive ruins of the old castle for a brief history about Châteauneuf-du-Pape terroir and an overview of our imminent excursion…and just like that we were off to the grape fields, in a curious convoy of three rental cars and one all-terrain vehicle. 

On the way, we passed through Châteauneuf-du-Pape again, via le centre ville. How it had changed! I saw high-tech cellars, modern cafes, and chic boutiques. No time to shop we were headed for Le Bois de Boursin, to see Syrah vines planted among large galets roulés. Carefully stepping out of our vehicles, I noticed all the ladies made it across the large, smooth stones in their sandals, which meant the next two fields would only be easier to navigate (for the girls anyway... as for the rental cars we’d see about that….).

Pulling into the next lieu-dit, "Grand Pierre" (to witness Grenache in sandy soil) wasn’t a problem. But when it came time for all four cars to back out of the narrow path at the top of the field, that took skill (one thing the fraternity brothers were actively demonstrating. But were they ready for the final challenge?).

On our way out of Le Grand Devès (having viewed Mourvèdre planted among limestone) Jean-Marc and I, in our 4x4 Jimny, headed the convoy. Suddenly the dirt path turned into a deeply-creviced, rocky, inhospitable terrain. “Jean-Marc,” I said between clenched teeth, “I don't think this is a road…at least not for rental cars!” Glancing into the rearview mirror, I could see the rest of our group through the dust, bobbing up and down when miraculously those cars morphed into hot rods! I guess they were determined to finally taste the world-renown wines they’d been hearing about for the past hour. 

A BARREL TASTING AND MICHELIN-STAR LUNCH
At the recently-acquired Château Maucoil, owner Bernard DuSeigneur offered our dusty group a warm welcome, followed by a barrel tasting in the cellars. He then escorted us back to the chateau’s terrace, to a long table set with fine linens and adorned with greenery from the gardens—a beautiful backdrop for the 5-course meal to come. We were amazed this vineyard owner, along with three helpers and one lively chef, would be serving us throughout this mouthwatering déjeuner sur la terrace.

I could go into detail about every bite—the soupe au pistou that rivaled my belle-mere’s, the delicate cod on a bed of fennel and seaweed, the roasted guinea hen cooked in the estate's wine, the artful cheese plate and its zucchini-ribbons—but the chef merits the extended commentaire. Animated, flirtatious, and full of saucy anecdotes, Jean-Claude Altmayer was what my belle-mère would call sacré—as in sacré Jean-Claude. I’ve never entirely understood the meaning of that word, but never mind. Here we were immersed in one sacré experience, among family and new friends including the vineyard owner himself.

We raised our glasses, toasting to a return to this magnificent table in three years' time….I hope everyone will rent four-wheel drives then. Who knows where Jean-Marc will take us next?

*       *       *

Bernard DuSeigneur serving his wine from Chateau Maucoil on this lovely terrace with a view.

A smiley ouistiti for our father, Kip from Kristi and Kelley.

COMMENTS
To comment on today's story, click here. Would love to know the town you are writing in from!

FRENCH VOCABULARY
The definitions, below, are in context, and the words may have multiple meanings.

Language pronunciation: Click here to listen to the French and English terms

la prestation = service
l’histoire = story
c’est la rentrée = it’s back to work
la soeurette = younger sister
la soeur aînée = older sister
le beau-frère = brother-in-law
la canicule = heatwave
le chemin = road
le vendangeur = harvester
c'est le cas de le dire = you can say that again
le caveau = cellar
le terroir = soil, land
le centre ville = town center
le galet roulé = pebble
le lieu-dit = location, site, locale
sacré = 1. quite the character (person)
sacré (repas)= 2. On hell of a (meal)
Ouistiti! = Cheese! ("smile for the photo")


Would you like to join Jean-Marc on a Provence Wine Tour? Click here or simply hit return and send a note if reading this via email.

REMERCIEMENTS
Wholehearted thanks to readers who sent in a blog donation following last week's post. Your support means a lot, and I am truly grateful! Amicalement, Kristi

Al K.
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“Kristi, Merci beaucoup pour French Word-A-Day!” Margaret

"Thank you for all you do, Kristi! From Ottawa, Canada, with love."  Susan (another Friend of Bill's)

“I so appreciate your postings, photos, comments, insights, your sharing general. You keep me going! I agree, too much is indeed trepidant these days. Take care!” Jean P.

"To thank you for sharing your life, your courage, and because I can pretend I'm in France every time your blog comes out. Amicalment." Carol T.

Harvesting grapes in Châteauneuf-du-Pape when the kids were little.

Happy birthday to Jackie who turned 26 on Monday! Here she is some 20 years earlier in Châteauneuf-du-Pape. To comment on this post, click here if reading via email.

The sea and coastline, or littoral, in La Ciotat, France

TODAY'S WORD: TRÉPIDANT

    : frantic, hectic, chaotic, turbulent
    : exciting, thrilling, exhilarating

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

Out on a morning walk with Izzy The Pocket Beagle, my mind jumps from thought to unrelated thought: Does organic milk have growth hormones? Do readers unsubscribe when I write about non-French-related topics? Is it time to rename my blog to better reflect the theme of my writing? What about an anti-depressant? Should I wash that gray right out of my hair?

So much mind talk! As I walk, I am aware of a high-level anxiety that has moved in lately. Is it that second cup of coffee? Or could it be hormonale? Though September is a little trépidant, what with la rentrée, there is nothing particularly stressful going on in my life. I'm just frustrated about goals that are not being reached on time (everything from home improvement to health). Struggling to get in my morning steps, tugging at Must Sniff Everything Izzy, yet another idea materializes, pushing aside all the other flotsam in my mind: Même effort. Même resultat.

Same effort. Same result.

Could it be that I am not really making enough of an effort when it comes right down to it? Argh! With that thought, my anxiety ramps up a notch...and I walk, and I walk! Rounding a corner we come to an abrupt halt when Izzy decides to pee in front of la boulangerie. I watch the deep golden puddle begin to trickle down the sidewalk, aware that no amount of effort could pick that up. This liquid mess is suddenly symbolic of Things Impossible to Handle. Things out of our control. Perhaps même effort = même résultat isn’t the only equation.

"Lord, I turn this ALL over to you. All of it. Everything from le pipi to the need to achieve. It is in your mighty hands. Amen." 

Looking out over the golden-trickled boardwalk, I notice a woman d'un certain âge in the glittering turquoise bay. Wading waist-deep in the sea, she's wearing a large floppy hat and pushing a purple donut-shaped raft. Inside there's a scrawny Chihuahua. I am not sure what the lord has in mind with this lively image that followed my prayer, but now that I've settled down to describe it I think I might be that Chihuahua. And Lord, you know who you are. You are the one pushing this little purple boat, la paix qui dépasse toute compréhension.

    *    *    * 


Izzy in the blue fauteuil.

COMMENTS
To comment on today's post click here. Your edits are much appreciated too. Thank you!

REMERCIEMENTS 

Thanks in advance to readers considering sending in a blog donation for the first time. Your contribution will go a long way not only in backing this journal but also in encouraging me to keep this publication going. Your support means a lot, and I'm truly grateful. Amicalement, Kristi

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the French 

le littoral = coastline
trépidant = hectic
hormonale = hormonal
la rentrée = back to school, back to work
même effort. même resultat = same effort. same result
la boulangerie = bakery
le pipi = pee
d'un certain âge = of a certain age
la paix qui dépasse toute compréhension = the peace that passes all understanding  


From our coastline to yours, Morocco you are in our hearts. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the citizens of Morocco following the devastating earthquake last Friday, near Marrakech. We are saddened and sorry for the anguish and loss Moroccans are experiencing.  

Returning to work or to school or real life demands after summer break? France wishes you Bonne rentrée. Some lucky dogs are still in vacation mode, though.  Photo taken in Cannes, where Jackie and I stopped after Villefranche. In the following story from the archives, Jackie is 16 and on her way back to school.... Le temps vole! Be sure to read to the end for a personal update and photo.

TODAY'S PHRASE: "bonne rentrée"

    : Happy back-to-school! Enjoy the new school year!

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

The following entry is from the 2014 archives. I took a trip down memory lane reading it, recently, and hope you'll enjoy the uplifting message and some more of Mom's wisdom.... 

This morning, and for the first time since summer began, I woke up in a pitch-dark room. Gone was the comforting view of the forest and with it the daily wake-up ritual of searching for my favorite tree (the old umbrella pine at the top of the hill. When I focus on the curve of that arbre I see the outline of a giant heart. Any anxieties that woke up with me disappear beneath the promise of that tree).

This morning no light, no forest, no heart. The buzz of Jean-Marc's réveil jolted our family into a new reality: la rentrée! Back-to-school for our daughter (the remaining fledgling in our nest) means a new schedule for everyone. No more sleeping in 'till seven. No more pep talks with Mr. Pin Parasol. Funny how...with the pursuit of a dream, whether writing or winemaking...each day feels like the first day of class, and, waking to the uncertainty of the next 24 hours, we are like small children approaching the giant gates of the schoolyard. Shaking in our boots as we stumble forth, into the unknown. A new day.

Recently even a big-hearted pine tree could not coax me out of bed. You know the old ditty: Mama said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this my mama said....

Yes, but just what did Mama say to do on days like this? To find out the answer I called my Mama and here is what she said: "Focus on others, not yourself!" The message was delivered firmly but with love.

Facing a new work day, I sucked up and wrote about another's pain, sharing my mother-in-law's situation instead of my own. Next, my thoughts traveled over to you, dear reader, and how you are surely experiencing "days like this." I wondered, Did you, too, dial up my Mom, who gave you the same answer: "Focus on another!" Because that would explain the outpouring of support following the previous post. I did not expect so much sympathy over a seemingly unsentimental subject: email. You must have read between the lines of the story -- when suddenly a heart came into focus! 

I'm looking out my bedroom window now and the big-hearted tree is finally coming into view. Ouf! It's back! And with it a new day. But I didn't want this day to end before sending you a sincere remerciement. Thank you so much for looking past your own pain and focusing on another's. Your empathy is deeply touching!

This post was supposed to be about back-to-school and the French penchant for wishing everyone bonne rentrée, or happy first day of classes. But we haven't gone too far off theme: "Happy return," after all, is the universal topic, the bonne rentrée everyone's talking about. Yes, many happy returns! May each day be a new day--with new hope and new courage for all. Whatever is hurting you, let it gently blend into this friendly forest and reappear as the giant heart of compassion: the balm to heal all wounds. Bon courage.

Amicalement,

Kristi

Post Note: The entry, above, was written during our first years at Mas de Brun, our second vineyard and the subject of our memoir The Lost Gardens.

COMMENTS
To read the comments or to leave one, click here. I enjoy reading your updates and appreciate your corrections to my text.
 

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here to listen to us read the French & English vocabulary

Bonne rentrée = Welcome back to school!
le temps vole = time flies
un arbre = tree
le réveil = alarm clock
la rentrée = when the summer is over, return to school
le pin parasol = umbrella pine
ouf! = phew!
un remerciement = thanks
bon courage! = good luck!
amicalement = yours, best wishes 

An old class photo with students from La Ciotat, France

REMERCIEMENTS 
Mille mercis to the following readers who sent in a donation following last week's entry. This truly is a reader-supported journal and I appreciate your help in keeping it going!

Cate S.
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Betsy F.
Diane C.-C.
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“You bring me joy reading about all your encounters, for all these years.” Betsy 

“Hello Kristi. Look forward every week to reading your journal Keep safe.” Mazzie

"I'm enjoying rereading Words in a French Life and tales of your early days in France when the children were young!" Lynn 

MORE ABOUT BONNE RENTREE by Chatgpt

"Bonne rentrée" is a commonly used French expression that translates to "good back-to-school" or "happy return." It is typically used in France and other French-speaking countries to wish someone well as they return to school or work after a break, such as summer vacation or a holiday.

This phrase is often heard in the weeks leading up to the start of the school year in September, and it reflects the sentiment of encouragement and positivity for the upcoming academic or work-related challenges. It's a way for people to express their hope that the return to daily routines and responsibilities will be successful and enjoyable.

"Bonne rentrée" can be used in various contexts:

1. **Informal Conversations**: Parents may use it to wish their children a good start to the school year. Friends and colleagues may also exchange this expression to offer encouragement and support as they resume their regular activities after a break.

2. **In the Workplace**: Colleagues might use it to greet each other as they return to work after a holiday or vacation. It helps create a positive and welcoming atmosphere.

3. **School Environment**: Teachers may use it to welcome students on the first day of school, and students might say it to each other to express good wishes for the academic year ahead.

4. **In Social Media**: It's not uncommon to see "Bonne rentrée" posted on social media platforms by individuals, schools, or organizations as a way of marking the return to regular schedules.

Overall, "Bonne rentrée" is a simple yet meaningful expression in French culture that reflects the emphasis on education and work-life balance. It's a way to encourage and motivate individuals as they transition back into their daily routines, and it serves as a reminder that new beginnings can be filled with opportunities and positivity.


Izzy and Me under some local palm trees. I am still dog-sitting and enjoying the company of this pocket-size beagle. Also, this week I fudged a little (Cette semaine, j'ai un peu esquivé) by posting a story from the archives and breaking a months-long streak of “one new story per week.” You would think the break would be refreshing, but, like a kid who ditches class (or an employee who takes a sick day from work) I spent my time ruminating about the consequences. Can you relate? And what are those real or imagined consequences? I'm going to title the above photo "Focus on the Horizon"--another of Mom's wonderful bits of wisdom. Just keep your eyes on the prize and whatever is below that skyline--don't give it too much time!

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

TODAY’S WORD: UNE FAUTE DE FRAPPE

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

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FRENCH VOCABULARY 

Click here to listen to the French words

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

REMERCIEMENTS

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

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

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

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