FRENCH WORD-A-DAY

The word in the window spells "Eat" which is what my stomach cried on the train back from Paris. Don't miss today's story with some fun new words.

News: Carolyne Kauser-Abbot has written an excellent article about Jean-Marc’s wine tours. Check it out at Carolyne’s site Perfectly Provence

TODAY’S WORD: "LA FRINGALE"

    : munchies
    : craving, hunger

avoir la fringale = to have the munchies, to feel peckish

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

On the train back from Paris I had the urge to tchatche with the stranger sitting next to me. Graced with corkscrew curls and a spray of freckles across her nose, she had smiled pleasantly when she took her seat beside the window. Now, quietly settled in for our 3.5-hour voyage to Marseilles, I wanted to exclaim, "Quel soulagement d'être monté dans le train ! What a relief to be on the train!” which is what I felt after lugging my piggybacked parcels and suitcase through the metro, up into the Gare de Lyon, only to struggle through the crowd in Hall 1. But I kept quiet when a little voice said, your own reality isn’t necessarily hers.

It’s a pity when your inner dictator keeps you from connecting with others, via its own self-righteous reasoning, and so I reconsidered striking up a conversation. But as the minutes passed my opening line became passé as the train was well on its way.

AVOIR LA FRINGALE
By now my stomach was rumbling alongside my thoughts. I kept thinking about the doggy bag in the large paper sack at my feet. Inside were gourmet leftovers from last night’s farewell dinner with a dear friend at Café de L'Alma. “Take it home, Rouge-Bleu," Susan had encouraged. You’ll enjoy it later! And so I piggybacked that doggy bag, along with several treats from our hotel, on top of my suitcase, which also held my heavy carry-on. All that juggling during the walk from the hotel to the metro to the train had created quite an appetite--especially after missing lunch.

I was suddenly craving that homemade gnocchi with pears and grapes, in cream sauce. I even had a plastic spoon in which to eat it and my seat included a handy fold-out tray. There was just one problem….Culture: the French don’t seem to eat at odd hours, and 3 pm is an odd hour to dine.

According to whom? Who says 3 pm is an odd hour to eat last night’s plat principal? I recognized the still small voice, that championing ally that always comes through if I listen to it, and not the inner critic. But soon a little battle ensued.... as my thoughts contradicted each other, tour à tour:

Why not wait until 4 pm? 4 pm is l’heure de goûter in France—a perfectly respectable time to munch in public.

But the French eat sugary snacks for goûter hour, that other voice pointed out.

Just then I heard the crinkling of a wrapper and turned to see the elegant woman across the aisle enjoying a candy bar. Next, Mademoiselle Freckles broke out a muffin, confirming my suspicions that the 4 pm snack hour is for sweets only.

Go ahead. Dig in! My inner ally cheered. Go against the status quo! Be wild! Be free! Be unique! Just when I had the courage to break all the imagined rules, I noticed the passenger seated 5 rows up, in the forward-facing seat. His T-shirt read, "BE NORMAL."

Be normal? But I was just about to let loose and BE WILD!

Harrumph! Now I had to build back le cran all over again, and it would've been all uphill except for one final thought: If I don't eat now I'm going to return home in a very cranky mood. And I didn't want to be irritable around my family. I knew Mom was waiting excitedly to see me, along with Jean-Marc and our newest family member, Ricci. And so, with the noblest of intentions, I broke out my spoon and dug in! No matter how many times my eyes darted around the train car, between furtive bites, I never saw one shocked expression. No one paid the slightest bit of attention. To my relief, there was not so much as a “bon appétit” something strangers are quick to tell anyone who is eating anything ever. (Maybe the French only say that during normal dining hours? There must be a separate set of rules for off hours?)

"Is it true the French tend to eat only sweet things at l'heure de gouter?" I asked my husband, on the ride home, after sharing my doggy bag dilemma.

"Yes, of course! Otherwise you'll be thrown in prison," my husband chuckled. "But Ricci and I would visit and even bring you oranges!"

Haha! It is helpful to laugh at our own quirks, and heartening when family and friends understand them so well. I hope, by sharing a few more of mine with you today you've learned some interesting French words. See you next week with another story from my short périple in Paris!


COMMENTS
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This sea bass and vegetables was in the second take-away carton, and it made a great lunch the day after I got home. Jean-Marc finished Susan's gnocchi for dinner. Don't you love leftovers and "doggy bags"?



FRENCH VOCABULARY 

Click to hear the pronunciation for la fringale and all the vocabulary

la fringale = hunger, the munchies
tchatcher = to chat, to gab
Quel soulagement d'être monté dans le train ! = What a relief to have made it onto the train!
le plat principal = main course
le gôuter = snack
tour à tour = by turns
le cran (avoir du cran)  = gumption (to have courage)
le périple = trek, journey

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J'éspère te lire longtemps. Bises, Janine

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The busy Gare de Lyon in Paris. Notice the white covering: behind it the historical and iconic restaurant Le Train Bleu is being renovated. 


I walked past this war memorial the day I left Paris. It reads "Aux Volontaires Americains Morts Pour La France" To The American Volunteers Who Died For France. A poignant reminder. Saturday is Armistice Day or Veterans Day. 

Levant Island, off the coast of Hyérès, is one of France's naturist territories. From April to October locals and tourists roam free (of clothing). Find out why the French government is expanding its "no clothes zones" across the Hexagone and what, if any, effect this will have on Paris. First, today's French phrase:

"EN TENUE D'ADAM"

    : in one's birthday suit, without a stitch on


A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

In the three decades I've lived in France, I have witnessed a few cultural, economic, and social changes in my adopted country--the most extreme being the abrupt demise of la bise. Before that, there was the disappearance of the French franc. And the past decade has seen a particular custom disappearing as, little by little, on French beaches from coast to coast, the French are "covering up." Whereas you used to see a lot of topless women (and men in speedos), these days one-pieces for her (and long "board shorts" for him) are à la mode. While all this amounts to just a few more square inches of fabric (if you can call it that), environmentalists at the Paris Climate Summit say the trend of "seasonal overdressing"--or wearing more than necessary during warmer months--is having an effect on greenhouse gas emissions. So much so that global heating experts believe it is clothing--and not cows--that's the real culprit behind the climate crisis.

C'est les vêtements! Non pas les vaches!
"It's clothing! Not cows!" You may have seen this mantra on posterboards that began cropping up across France in March. It is no coincidence officials waited until Springtime to crack down on "Les SVs" (Les Sur-Vêtementés or Over-Clothed). But a new law will do more than crack down on clothes hounds, it will penalize anyone wearing too much clothing in summertime.

But just how much is too much clothing? According to France's climate minister, Philippe SansHabilles, 1 kilogram of clothing--or the equivalent of a t-shirt (350 grams), shorts (500 grams), and underwear (150 grams) even this much is a burden when you consider just how much energy it takes to machine wash and dry or produce the collected tons of clothing throughout France. (And you thought cow burps were to blame!)

Wear less, emit less....
As summer heats up, so do new legislative measures. By June 15, the clothing limits fall to 700 grams. In July, with the heatwave well underway (and when CO2 levels peak in Europe) citizens will be required to shed their "threads" by another 200 grams and to use the community lavoir to rinse what few articles of clothing they're still sporting.

By August it is rumored certain towns along the South coast will have the same stature as Île du Levant (France's "naturalist" island which I reported  about here after ditching my jeans and t-shirt).


"Bring Back the Speedo!" A drastic measure to slow climate change has the French government scrambling for a solution. 

Our town of La Ciotat happens to be within this bare-all jurisdiction and these extreme government measures are no longer a rumor but a soon-to-be reality. In order to drastically reduce the ecological footprint, citizens will be encouraged to go about "en costume d'Adam" or without a stitch of clothing. (Fig leaf optional.) Failure to wear less will result in une amende of 1500 euros (1629.60 USD) or two days of civil service (I can tell you from personal experience this is a super creepy job--even in Paris!). CCTV cameras are posed to record and track perpetrators and to assign points: the more points the fewer grams of clothing you're allowed the next time out. 

Thankfully our mayor (more of a Prudist than a Nudist) has divided the town into zones:

Zone A ("Adam's Costume," or no clothing)
Zone B (Barely-Clad)
Zone C (Clothed--500 grams maximum)

For those like me who are prone to skin cancer, the city will be distributing free and unlimited crème solaire, but I won't be taking any. You will find this hopeless prude holed up at home. I can't bear the idea of seeing my neighbors naked (Zone A)--and don't want to catch our local policemen sporting speedos (Zone B)! Hallelujah, though. I just realized my church is in Zone C (but what will 500 grams of clothing look like on my brothers and sisters? Does this include shoe weight? Are shoes "clothes"? What about espadrilles(which have a lot of fabric)?

As you can imagine, there's a lot to consider given these drastic measures go into effect very soon. Meantime, if you are traveling to France this summer and if, like me, you'd like to keep your pants on, stick to Paris where the clothes hounds hang out. If you do come south, take heart: there is one day a year when such draconian laws are relaxed: April 1st. (Only an April Fool would be caught in their birthday suit today!)  

Amicalement,
Kristi

FRENCH VOCABULARY

Click here for the audio file and listen to these French words

être en tenue d'Adam = to be in your birthday suit 
la bise = a French greeting wherein two people kiss
à la mode = in fashion
C'est les vêtements! Non pas les vaches! = It's clothing! Not cows!
les Sur Vêtementés = the Over Dressed
le lavoir = community wash basin
Île du Levant = Levant Island
une amende = a fine
le costume d'Adam = Adam's suit (to wear no clothes)
la crème solaire = sunblock
amicalement = yours

Jean-Marc, ever comfortable en tenue d'Adam. 

Evening in Paris is a magical time to flâner. Rounding a corner in Montmartre the Sacré Coeur Basilica came into view unexpectedly and took my breath away. Don't miss today's story, below.

TODAY'S WORD: flâner

    : stroll, wander, roam, saunter, meander
    : to laze about, to be idle

La flânerie = loafing, idleness

La flânerie, n’est pas seulement délicieuse ; elle est utile. C’est un bain de santé qui rend la vigueur et la souplesse à tout l’être ; à l’esprit comme au corps ; c’est le signe et la fête de la liberté . Strolling is not only delicious; it is useful. It is a bath of health which gives back vigor and flexibility to all the being; to the mind as to the body; it is the sign and the festival of freedom. -Henri Frédéric Amiel

FRENCH SOUND FILE: Click below to hear Jean-Marc pronounce the French quote and all French terms in this post. Then scroll down to the vocabulary section to check your French comprehension.

Click here for the audio file

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse

On the train up to the capital I tapped my daughter on the arm. The TGV passenger in seat 661 pulled out her earpods. "Oui, Maman," she smiled patiently.
"Sweetie, we still haven't come up with a plan for our two days in Paris. Actually, we only have this afternoon, this evening, and all day tomorrow in the city. What would you like to do?”

"Hmm. Let me think about that. I'm a little hungry now. Did you say you brought a picnic for the train?"

"I did!" Reaching into my purse, I pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "I made you two: one on healthy bread and the other on the good bread! There's also an apple, some Snickers, and a bag of walnuts if you like--and some water!" 

 “Aw, thanks, Mom." Jackie said. "Well, how about dinner and a cabaret at Le Moulin Rouge?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” I said, wondering if the iconic cabaret was family friendly? Why not see The Nutcracker instead? No, Christmas was two months away.... Oh, what did I know about cultural activities anyway? I don't go to operas or ballets. They give me itchy legs. I can't sit still. Was there a Lady and The Tramp show? No, that was at Disneyland Paris, some twenty years ago. Jackie was five-years-old at the time. She is all grown up now and I've got to finally readjust my motherly lens, from the little girl of my heart to a grown woman--ever in my heart.   

"Don't worry about it Mom. We'll just walk around Paris and see..."

A scenic walkabout? I was tired already. This all sounded much better as a French verb... flâner!

Still, I didn’t know if my sore back could handle that much flânerie. But this was no time to be a wimp, or, as the French say une chochotte. For how often does one get the chance to visit The City of Light—even when one lives in France? And when would I see my youngest child again? Only one of us was coming home to La Ciotat this time. The other was about to fly off again, from the Charles de Gaulle airport to Seattle to who-knows-where after?

Even if this strolling strategy, this unfocused flânerie, was doable, la météo, which forecasted la pluie, could put a damper on our mother-daughter escapade. Finally, without some sort of itinerary, we might waste our time in this prized destination: historic Pa-ree! Just what were we in for then? As always, I tried to visualize every scenario, unsure of what to expect. Then again, expectation so often leads to disappointment. So why not go along with Jackie’s idea of a meandering--a carefree and much-needed vagabondage--and, as Yves Montand so famously sang, flâner sur les Grands Boulevards! After all, action leads to discovery, all we needed to do was put one foot in front of the other...and the streets of Paris would reveal a treasure of possibilities.

    *    *    *
I will tell you more about our time in Paris once I have organized my notes. Meantime, in the coming weeks, I'll be writing about matters closer to home, sharing a few updates about my Mom, her unexpected and grumpy companion, and a meaningful milestone in my career. Thank you, as ever, for reading!  

A few more photos taken while flaning around Paris. 


We bumped into a couple other flâneurs in Paris: my son, Max, and his girlfriend, Ana, who snapped the mother-daughter photo, above.




Dogs in the cobbled streets of Montmartre. I like this moody image of a woman walking her dogs, snapped while walking arm-in-arm with Jackie.

View from Jackie's studio in Paris. More about this canyon of French windows you are viewing, in today's missive. And félicitations! to our 17-year-old daughter, who has completed her 4th internship in fashion design.

enfermé dehors

    : locked out

AUDIO FILE: Listen to Jean-Marc read today's example sentence:
Download MP3 or Wav file

Un jour, en descendant la poubelle, il s'était enfermé dehors en pyjama. (H.-F. Blanc, Combat de fauves au crépuscule)

English Translation:
One day, while taking out the trash, he locked himself out in his pajamas.

A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristin Espinasse

On fait nos valises

Ten days ago I woke up in a 14 square meter apartment in Paris. Looking out the fenêtre, my eyes scanned gray rooftops and followed the trails of chimney pots which seemed to march towards the horizon. That's when I realized I'd missed the chance to photograph the Sacré-Coeur last night when the sky was dark enough to glimpse a tiny trio of white globes in the left corner of the window! There would not be another chance to do so, not this trip anyway. It was time, now, to pack and leave my daughter's studio.

Lying there in bed, all those internal cobs began to turn as my mind and body quickly became a steamroller of intention: put away the dishes, check under the bed for socks and chouchous, and put out both sets of keys--to leave behind for the owner (this last item caused no end of worry, and you will soon understand why....)

The list was getting louder and louder in my mind, so loud I might wake my daughter with my thoughts.  Slipping out of bed, I quietly made a cup of coffee - and sat down in front of the window, to savor, one last time, the view just beyond.

There, in the canyon of Parisian windows that formed an intimate neighborhood in the 11th arrondissement, I said my goodbyes.

Au revoir to the laundress in the attic apartment--who was always drying her clothes on her window railing. How I feared her comforter would drop... landing on the smoker at the 3rd floor window below....

Adieu, to the botanical goddess, on the 5th floor, whose little window was a perfect green jungle.

Farewell to the brocanteur, on the 4th floor, whose empty wingchair soaked in the sun, there before the window with its flowing rideaux. 

Did they see me, too? And think Goodbye to the photographer on the 6th, who held her smartphone this way and that as she focused its camera lens on a single spool of thread on her window sill. Oh, but a symbolic spool at that! Did they know my roommate? "The Karate Couturist"-- my daughter--who, like the karate kid, was made to repeat the same handiwork gesture over and over and over, but who would soon realize the wisdom behind such training. Jackie's seamstressing internship had now come to an end, and with it, the vacation I'd enjoyed while accompanying my daughter.

Having said so many silent farewells, it was time to dress up, tidy up, and line up our bags. My arms swept over the shelves--making certain not one item was forgotten. This last point was crucial, for, once we shut the door--leaving our keys inside as instructed--we would not be able to return inside the rental apartment!)

Finally, there we were, my daughter and I, standing in the hallway looking into the memorable shoebox apartment. And then, the anxiously awaited moment, when the door slipped out of my hand and locked forever. I looked over at my daughter and smiled confidently--before my face dropped in horror.

"Oh no! My cell phone!"

"Mom!" Jackie gasped.

"Just kidding," I snorted. Only, as we walked down the hall my legs suddenly froze. "My hat... I left my hat!!! I can't believe it! I had so carefully planned our perfect departure.... checked every corner... turned over the bedspread...said a needed prayer!"

As I stood there lamenting, I could see in my mind's eye my hat, high up on the shelf, where I carefully arranged it each time I returned to the apartment. And I could now see the locked door, separating us!

Jackie tried her best, using reasoning to comfort me. C'est pas grave, Maman. C'est pas grave! But I was inconsolable. I had left behind the hat that my Mom had offered me. There was no replacing the midnight blue hat with the twinkle stars. The magic hat that had recently sparked a lovely conversation with a stranger in Paris.... 

Walking to the elevator, hatless, my head felt as bare as those far-off globes of the Sacré-Coeur.... Only, unlike the church, inside me there was no more hope. That hat was gone forever because I did not and would not have the courage to bother the apartment owner to send it to me in a hat box via post! My only comforting thought was to call the maid and tell her to keep my hat for herself. It would look lovely on her, and match her kind spirit.

Jackie, sensing my despair, looked up. Her eyes were now twinkling like the those stars on my lost hat. "Mom," she said. "I will buy you a new one--here in Paris!"

And that is how the sentimental hat my Mom had gifted me found its only possible replacement:  in the sentimental gesture of my daughter.

(New hat picture coming soon at the end of this post....)
 

To see a picture of my blue hat...  click here, and scroll to end of the previous story.

FRENCH VOCABULARY

on fait nos valises = we pack our bags
la fenêtre = window
chouchou = ponytail holder, scrunchie
le rideau = curtain
c'est pas grave = it isn't important


Provence Dreamin'? Maison des Pelerins, Sablet. A Vacation Rental Dream in the heart of the Côte du Rhone. Click here for pictures.

Picture, of the hat my daughter bought me, taken at a recent wine-tasting. Next wine tasting is here at home, this Thursday July 2nd. Email me if you can make it! [email protected] (photo by Dede Nagamoto Willis) 

Serendipity - it is just the word to begin the summer edition of this journal sentimental. Only, do the French even have a word for serendipity? Et oui!

"UN HEUREUX HASARD"

    : serendipity, serendipitously

AUDIO: Listen to Jean-Marc read today's example sentence:
Download MP3 or Wav

Mais, heureux hasard, au détour d'une rue bruxelloise, une affiche crayonnée fait de l'oeil au passant : "Discover the freedom of the bike", le genre d'impératif suggestif qui soudain vous fait entrevoir le monde autrement. - LeVif Weekend magazine. 

Help translate today's sentence, here in the new comments box!


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

On the second to last day in Paris, a kind of seize the day sentiment gripped me. Having visited so many leafy passages, an original coffee shop, and even a vineyard, I wondered about a high-tech visit chez Google - whose existence, it seemed, was in Montparnasse.... at the FNAC.

Only, a strange mood paralyzed me. How to describe it? My daughter said it best when she commented about how the metropolis of Paris sometimes made her feel: "Je me sens comme si je n'existe pas...." I feel like I don't existe.

Jackie's observation struck me as juste as I vaguely recalled the meaning of "existential": a cold and impersonal something ... leading to an urgency to truly be.

 Grabbing my keys, I left our cozy appartment, one foot headed to Montparnasse, the other foot operating with its own sentimental compass. As I zigzagged down the street, seemingly invisible to the masses, I did not notice the trail ahead, which quietly formed itself, crumb by crumb, from the golden heel of serendipity....

(To be continued.)

COMMENTS
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A mysterious door in one of the many leafy passages I visited. This one, in Passage Gustave Lepeu. 

SABLET HOME for high quality vacation rentals in the heart of Provence. Particularly suited to groups of up to four discerning travelers. 

Forward this edition to a friend and let me know if anything serendipitous happens! Wishing you un heureux hasard. See you next time.

Amicalement,
Kristi

Authors and journalists Patricia Wells and Ann Mah are as down-to-earth as dandelions--something these culinary divas could appreciate--sauteed with lardons fumés (and a glass of Mas des Brun rosé bien sûr!) 

la bibliothèque (bih-blee-oh-tek)

    : library

Confession: I still mix up the terms bibliothèque and librairie, but une librairie--no matter how misleading name--is still a book store as we noted here.

Audio File & Example Sentence: Will try to update--as soon as Jean-Marc finished his vineyard chores!

France and Monaco Rentals: short-term holiday rental properties throughout France. Click here for pictures.

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

When I realized my train arrived in Paris's Gare de Lyon at 5pm--not long before the exciting book event--I doubted there would be time to do more than drop off my bag at my hosts' apartment on Rue du Cherche-Midi. I had hoped to arrive early to the American Library and score good seats at the author talk featuring Patricia Wells and Ann Mah!

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time," Robin said, showing me to her guest room. Take off those heels and come have a little snack. Did I prefer salé or sucré? my hostess quizzed, and when I saw the plate of artfully arranged fruit--framboises, clementines, and myrtilles--the choice was fastoche!  

"Have you met John before?" Robin asked, as I stood in the hallway studying a charming and familiar face.

Had we met? Or was the internet playing tricks on me again? Had I seen so many pictures of Robin's cheri--on Facebook and through photo-sharing--that I couldn't distinguish between the real and a virtual meeting? 

Heureusement, the same doubts seemed to be plaguing my host--who quickly broke the embarrassing spell by sharing kisses on both cheeks (i.e. on a fait la bise). 

After the raspberries and blueberries and kisses we were now one hour away from the big event! Were we sure to make it on time? 

"Will we take the metro?" I hinted, as Robin dressed for the event (putting on her belt with the gold panther buckle). Quelle question. Of course my hostess would get us there. In leopard time! If God created a guardian angel to help travelers navigate Paris in all her complexity, that ange (with panther accents) would be Robin. She knows all the shortcuts, whether it's getting from point A to point B--or getting a good bite to eat!

As we sped towards the 7th arrondissment, Robin lavished compliments on our driver. UBER is the best company and the drivers are as charming and helpful as this young man. Our cabbie lit up, delighted by the attention, and he laughed as Robin shared disaster stories regarding the competition (like the time one Parisian cabbie refused to clear his lunch off the passenger seat, preferring to keep his sandwich and coffee intact and turn away passengers who needed a lift!). 

Arriving smack in front of the American Library, the historic bibliothèque was deceivingly silent. Little did we know that behind the front door the place was buzzing with excitement and the seats were already being snapped up.

It seemed we were early so Robin suggested we get a more substantial bite to eat. Just around the corner from the library a bistro happened to have the most delicious and fluffy croque-monsieurs we'd ever tasted!

Still unaware of the crowds that were forming inside the library, we took a leisurely moment to compliment our waiter on the food we'd just eaten. But what was the French word for "fluffy". Légère? aéré? I suggested, deciding to inform him of the cozy English word instead: Fluffy! We say fluffy!

By the time we entered the library I was feeling like a fluff-brain, duped by the silence that had fooled us a half-hour before. But Robin didn't waste time with regrets--she beelined it to the seating area and charmed someone into switching places--so as to free up two side-by-side seats. Robin then gave those seats to her husband and me, and grabbed a stepping stool for herself.

Where's Waldo? I took off my glasses as soon as the speakers finished. Dumb idea, for then I couldn't recognize the other local personalities!

In addition to the fascinating speakers, there was a host of interesting characters in the audience! I recognized Karen Fawcett from Bonjour Paris and Ann and Kirk of Music and Markets and Lisa Taylor Huff of The Bold Soul and photographer Meredith Mullins. And, studying this picture (swiped from Ann Mah's Facebook page) I wonder was that Lindsey Tramuta sitting only a row behind me? Zut, I didn't see her at the time!

But, as you can see, if many of the local personalities blended in incognito, it's because all eyes were on the speakers who mesmerized the room!

I put on my glasses and listened as Charles Truehart, the American Library's director, honored the speakers in a warm introduction, and he also took the time to encourage readers to support this beloved library!    

And without delay, Mr Trueheart turned the spotlight over to the writers of Mastering the Art of French Eating and The French Kitchen Cookbook--who would now be interviewing each other.

We were in for a treat as Patricia Wells began, using every bit of her journalism know-how to familiarize us with Ann Mah. We learned about Ann's first book, Kitchen Chinese, and about her go-to comfort meal: toast! (A confession that caused the guy behind me to "Huh?" aloud. I guessed he needed to read Ann's book. Then he'd be chuckling like me :-)

When it was Ann's turn to interview Patricia, Ann admitted to using a bit of crowdsourcing to come up with some good questions. Ann's avowal was so heartening! It was good to know that even seasoned journalists, like Ann, are stumped for words when facing their heros.

And by the time Ann finished her interview, Patricia Wells--lover of slow food and clearly someone with a warm and welcoming joie de vivre--had become my hero too! 
 

Comments
To respond to this post, click here. Did you locate me in the picture above? Were you by chance at this event? Or are you familiar with these authors? Which books are your favorites? Add to today's post by sharing feedback here.

P.S. Among the local personalities in the audience, was Marjorie Williams, author of Markets of Paris. She wrote a wonderful write up of Ann and Patricia's talk, here. And we'll see her again soon... when I tell you about the Champagne Book Signing at Robin's--where I had the honor of joining Ann Mah to talk about writing and France! 

French Vocabulary

salé = salty
sucré = sugary
une framboise = raspberry
une myrtille = blueberry
clementine = little orange
fastoche = easy, easy-peasy
heureusement = happily
on a fait la bise = we kissed-greeted

Two places to stay in postcard pretty France:

“La Trouvaille”--a true find in Provence!  Affordable vacation rental in this beautiful old stone house in the charming village of Sablet. 

New rental in Provence! La Baume des Pelerins, in Sablet--spacious, comfortable the perfect place to return to after a busy day’s sightseeing, bicycling or hiking.

Good to have a guardian angel who knows the Paris transit system (thanks, Robin!)--or I'd panick, taking any apparent option. Scoot over, leafy commuters, make room for me! Now, how to say "Hit it!" in French? 

To comment on today's post, click here and many thanks for reading!

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Le vélo = popular transportation when in Paris.

Bonjour! 

We are working on another city guide and when I say "we" I mean you and me! If you have been to Paris recently please help us out by sharing:

• hotel or apartment or B&B suggestions
• restaurants, cafés,  bistros
• nightclubs, theaters, shows
• unique shops, bookstores...
• kids or teens - fun stuff and ideas for young ones
• babysitters in Paris?
• outdoor attractions (parks, markets, landmarks...)
• helpful websites & books
• taxi cab, train station and metro tips
• tipping information or fees to expect
• ATM and bank info
• free or unusual things to do in Paris
• best time/season to visit Paris
• any place one should visit or any thing one should do when in Paris....

Click here to leave a tip or suggestion - or to see the recommendations. I'll post a link to the answers in Monday's post.

See the "share buttons" at the end of this post and be sure to forward this Paris guide to someone who is planning to visit France.

Mille mercis!

Kristin 
P.S. Where to Rent a Car in Paris? Readers have sent in their favorites in the France Car Rental guide. Thanks for adding your recommendations, too! 

Love locks in Paris. Note: I have just erased my previous message, here, about wanting to put up a lock next time I'm in Paris. After L&C wrote in (see first comment) I realize these locks are becoming damaging to the city's landscape. It is good to be aware of the issue and it brings me to one more tip I could have mentioned, in the bullet above: How to be a good guest when in Paris? Thanks for sharing your Paris suggestions in the comments box.

For more information on Paris, use this handy Google search box: 

Shakespeare and Company: an historic expat bookstore in Paris. Still soaring from the high of speaking at the American Library... I marched right into Shakespeare & Co. (before Fear had a chance to bully me and lie to me again...) and offered up my new public speaking services... To get this new gig--I acted as if--as if I had the confidence and composure of a conquistador (never mind that my previous speaking engagements included passing out on the floor). Convinced, they signed me for an author's talk on March 1st! 

Pronounce It Perfectly in French - with exercises in sound discrimination and accurate sound creation. Order your copy here.

idée fausse (ee-day fowce) noun, feminine

    : misconception

(The verb is "suer" : je sue, tu sues, il sue, nous suons, vous suez, ils suent => past participle = sué)

Audio File & Example Sentence: Download Wav File

Une idée fausse, mais claire et précise, aura toujours plus de puissance dans le monde qu'une idée vraie mais complexe.

  (Please help me to translate this sentence in the comments box!)

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

The following are some idées fausses, or misconceptions, that were running around my hopeful mind during the week leading up to my (once feared and dreaded) public talk:

...When my talk is over I will be okay again...
...After my speech I can relax, let go...
...Life will begin again after the speaking event. I will be able to taste my coffee, feel the breeze on my skin... I will smell the autumn air once again... my senses will no longer be dull (all-consumed with cowardice).

I will go home, put on my favorite soft robe and cozy slippers and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate....  I will experience bliss. I will have my reward. Imagine this!

The strange thing is: none of these things happened. Instead, I had a revelation:

The joy, the bliss, the aliveness that I believed would be mine after this tortuous trial (a.k.a. The Speech)... instead took the place of it. Instead of feeling like the proverbial deer caught in hell's headlights, during my speech I felt the power of love, warm and bright.  I never felt so alive! The speech was the reward.

Could it be that public speaking is the best-kept secret? And that 99.9 percent of the earth's population (that is, the percentage of people that are petrified by public speaking) are depriving themselves of what is, in reality, a powerful instant -- a divine drop of distilled life?

Public speaking may be, after all, the best-kept secret. If you want to hog the spotlight (and all of the "life" that comes with it) then keep on perpetuating the idée fausse that public speaking is something that will kill you. (It will kill the Ego... so add that to your "Gifts I receive from Public Speaking" list.)

But if you want to join the revolution, and begin to murder the misconception, then please tell someone today that they WILL be okay the next time they have to speak, publicly; that the secret reward that nobody is telling you about is this: speaking can be bliss!

(We'll talk more about this on Friday, when I'll post another list of tips and techniques that worked for me....)

Amicalement,

Kristin
(former fainter, aspiring orator)

Post note: It is important for me to remember that nothing is ever "a given". That is: I have not conquered my fear of public speaking (Coach Conchita, and others of you, might beg to differ). The truth is, as long as we have our fickle "feelings" we won't be spared of what amounts to internal warfare. But we can take winning steps to counter this, and experience the bliss, when we recognize our God-given gift of confidence and assurance.

One of the most common fears that public speakers have is the belief that they will lose control of themselves in front of an audience. For me, this meant that I might somehow come undressed during my speech! (One tick that you will witness--when you view my speech--is this: I kept placing my hand over my heart -- not because it was beating violently (it wasn't)... but because I feared the snaps on my back might come undone (as they had in gym class... before my bra busted, some 20 years back!). Horror of horrors that this might happen again, now--in front of an audience! And so all that obsessive hand-to-heart business you see amounted to my checking (and rechecking) to make sure my "underwear" was still "there".

Witness this tick for yourselves in the video from my Paris talk! See the video immediately, when you sign up to become a supporting member of French Word-A-Day.

Finally, here is a book that I have just ordered. I am excited to learn and grow in the area of public speaking. Won't you join me? Check out this book and read along with me!:In The SpotLight, Overcome Your Fear of Public Speaking and Performing

Thank you for sharing your thoughts in the comments box. Please forward this post to a student or stilted speaker. I hope it will help someone and eventually open the door of opportunity to others.

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French music: Jacques Brel

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