whats his name 

5, rue Sesame

Finalement! (finally)
I've been watching French cartoons to help improve my French. Remembering back to the time when my kids watched Sesame Street, I've often thought that if only there was a French Sesame Street, it would be a great help. I can vividly remember Elmo getting his face into the camera and saying "NEAR", then backing away and saying "FAR", then getting back to the camera, "NEAR", and away.. "FAR" - repeating ad infinitim. Just what I could use right about now.

I searched the channels and the closest thing I could find was Tibère et la maison bleu (click here) This show has a big lovable bear named Tibère, pronounced T-bear, (kinda weird since the word for bear is ours. The bear has a sidekick mouse and each episode deals with an ordinary, everyday situation. I really like this show but since school started, it only airs on Saturday mornings.

Well, this Monday morning, as I was flipping the channels, to my great surprise... I found Sesame Street... or - 5, rue Sesame - pronounced "sank-ru-se-saam". This wasn't a dubbed-over version, it was all French. The setting is in front of a french neighborhood grocery store, the kind where they put half the merchandise on the sidewalk, and the characters are different. Take a look.

So... maybe there will soon be a giant leap in my French education.

The Final Fixture

 
The final light fixture is up! After hanging about 10 light fixtures in our apartment, the job is now done, finished, completed, finis!! This one went in the entry hall, Jeffrey didn't even have to install it, and we didn't even have to import Pat for the job!
 

à l'heure d'hiver

Some things just never change. When Katie was in kindgergarten she kept a journal for her class. We were a bit embarrased when she wrote an entry about when we got to church that previous Sunday morning and we were late - church had already started. We wondered what was going on when one of us remembered that Daylight Savings Time had ended and we forgot all about it. Without fail (and without planning) this event played out year after year. We never could/did remember to set the clocks back/forward, whatever.

This morning Paul and I walked over to the church near our house, walked in, and nobody was in there. We weren't early.... when, "ah, ha!" It must be the end of daylight savings time. I said... "How could we have missed it?" Paul replied, "What do they call it?"

We came home, waited an hour, ate some french bread and delicious cheese and went back. We "missed it" because we didn't know that it was called à l'heure d'hiver, or what it meant.

This is a four-day weekend. Tuesday is All-Saints Day (toussaint) and there would be no point in going to work on Monday, only to have Tuesday off for the holiday, so work on Monday is called off. Hence, the four-day weekend. If you don't get enough time off with that little break, not to worry, November 11 is just around the corner and they celebrate that here too.

The TNT notice  

Teeny Tiny Baby Steps

We were expecting a package from a store in Aix-en-Provence. We made a purchase and had it shipped to us but I really didn’t know when it would come. I got the whole Fed-Ex deal figured out – we get our US mail shipped to us about every other week and we get a reference number, I watch the package go from Houston to Memphis to Paris and to here. And I also know that they always deliver around 10:30 in the morning. All I have to do is wait for the buzzer alerting me to the fact that the delivery man is at the door. I then pick up the door-phone and tell him what floor I am on and then I open the door with the door-phone. (Kinda sophisticated deal for someone who has never lived in a city apartment.)

So this shipment from Aix didn’t come Fed Ex, it came TNT. (yeah, like the dynamite) When I arrived home from French school, there was a delivery notice pasted on the street door of the apartment building with our name on it telling anyone and everyone who passed by that those stupid Americans weren’t home when TNT tried to deliver their package. I very carefully read it to determine what I should do next and, best I could tell, I had to call this place and arrange for delivery. (en Francais, of course) Paul was out of town, so I couldn’t pawn this off on him. I hate when that happens! So anyway, I called the number. Somehow I communicated that I had received this notice. Then they asked for the reference number, I gave it to them without skipping a beat (and not having to use the PAUSE button) and we arranged for delivery that very night! Amazing.

Then, this morning I went to buy my fruits and veggies at the market. There is a vendor there whom I met during my first week here. I see him each time I go to that market, but with my French class taking much of my time, I hadn’t been to the market in a long while. So today when I went there, I saw him and actually carried on a pretty decent conversation with him. He even asked how Kate was doing! Amazing encore. And when I got home, I noticed that he had thrown into the bag some free parsley too!

SpongeBob speaks every language 

Ramblings about School

I sure do miss school. What I miss is my old school… the students and the teachers and the “intelligent life” there. I miss the interesting conversations and hanging out in the teacher’s lounge. I think it will be a long time before I have a conversation beyond, “hi, how are you, and the weather is beautiful today, isn’t it.”

But maybe the next best thing is going to my French school. I suppose that intelligent life exists there, but since we are all from different cultures with different languages, we can’t discuss anything beyond a conversation that uses the French vocabulary that we have developed. Today was different… and that was good… but first - about my fellow classmates…

Every week is different. Students come and go – why... I’m not sure... and why I don’t go... well, I guess I haven’t learned enough French yet. Maybe they learned all the French they could, or maybe they were only here for a specific time...but so far, only one other student has lasted as long as I have and she is Japanese. Almost everyone in the class is a student, either in high school or college. The youngest student is 14 (and from New York) and the oldest is .. well... me.

Sometimes it feels like there is not much in common between all of us except learning French. I wouldn’t really know, though, because we don’t have much discussion. Today, our teacher was working on the e sound with various accents. Kinda boring for me having grown up in Louisiana... but one of the words was éponge, the word for sponge. Suddenly this room full of adolescents and post-adolescents lit up as they associated the word with... SPONGE-BOB SQUAREPANTS! The teacher had never heard of good ole’ Sponge-Bob, but the kids from every single culture knew exactly who he was. It was fun as they all tried to explain Sponge-Bob to the French teacher. I even got up and drew a picture of him on the board.

It feels good to be on the other side of the desk for a change.

French humor

 Paul received an email from a friend from work saying, "You said your children were very interested in math" and so he attached this math problem. The instructions say "find x."

Il est la.... means...it is there!
Bien sur.  

World Series pride

It's hard to be excited about the home team (the Astros) when in a foreign country... well, actually, it's easy to be excited but not-so-easy to show it. The other day after the Astros won the pennant, I was wondering how I could show my Astro pride when...

Today in french class, we were discussing "playing" ... jouer a... and jouer de.... and one of the new Japanese students didn't understand the difference and so the teacher was trying (en francais) to explain about playing on a team. When her attempts to use O.L. (Olympic Lyonnaise - the local - big deal - soccer team) as an example failed. She decided then to take a different approach... use American teams, because (I'm sure she thought) everyone at least knows some American teams. So she said, (en francais, remember) "Well, like in America, you have the NBA... do you understand the NBA?" The Japanese guy said yes. OK, so far so good. She she asked me to name an NBA team and as I was thinking in my mind "OK, they probably never heard of the Rockets... what team should I say?... Lakers? Magic?..." OOPS TOO SLOW KAREN. (I need that PAUSE button.)

Teacher then says... "You know, the Red Sox." So I quickly shook my head NO! She said, "OK, right, a football team... you know, the Red Sox."

So much for Astro pride.

Sorry 'bout that Boston! (At least they know your team's name.)

Sweet Potatoes!

 Walking out and about the other day, we passed a market where the fruit and veggies were out on the street. I noticed that they had sweet potatoes. I had never seen them before in a store over here, so I (naturalment) wanted to go in and buy some. We were in a hurry so Paul didn’t really want to stop. He also said, “If they have them there, they will have them other places so you can get them later.” Later never came.

So then we went off on our trip to Aix-en-Provence and while there, we went to their really huge market. We saw so many different types of mushrooms – it was unbelievable! And so much other produce. But no sweet potatoes! And of course, I mentioned that there were no sweet potatoes at every opportunity. My thinking was…. if they didn’t have them there, they must be hard to find. I knew I would have to go back to the market where we saw them in the first place.

So when we returned from our trip, we parked the car in front of the apartment, unloaded, I went in, and then Paul went to put the car in the garage. He returned home with a bag of eight sweet potatoes! ...better than flowers or chocolate!

I will cook them and then freeze them so that we can have them for Thanksgiving. He said it cost him 10 euros for 8 potatoes. Ouch.

 

rooftops from the hotel window

 
 

Sidewalk cafe (before the crowds)

 
 

A return to Aix

When I travelled around France and saw many cities along the way, none of them impressed me as much as Aix-en-Provence. I'm not sure exactly what impressed me, it just felt good being there. It was town full of life, chic like Paris, but the people were not so uptight. It had a south-of-France feel - laid-back but was sophisticated at the same time. I knew I wanted to return there soon. So Paul had a long week in Paris attending a seminar (in French, of course) on the French law regarding hiring and firing workers. He needed a break. So he took Friday off from work and we loaded up the car and headed south.

It took us a couple of hours to get there, through the rain - but the weather in Aix was beautiful. The main drag through the town is Cours Maribeau - often called the most beautiful street in all of France. It is wide and long and lined with beautiful sycamore trees on both sides. Shops, cafes, restaurants, bars, and museums line the boulevard. We stayed in a hotel on Cours Maribeau and parked our car in their courtyard. Getting the car into the courtyard was an interesting challenge since the streets were barely wide enough for our tiny car.

We spent Saturday walking around the old city and down the streets. The painter Paul Cezanne lived and painted in Aix-en-Provence so we walked (all uphill) to his studio about a mile north of the town. On the way, we stumbled upon a wedding at the cathedral. The doors were locked so we couldn't go inside but you could hear beautiful music coming through the doors.

We also spent a lot of time just sitting in the sidewalk cafes watching the world go by. We sat and had breakfast there, then we sat and had a few beers there, then we had dinner on the sidewalk too. Ah, what a life!

when i get them posted... click here!

a drive trough Provence

 
 

Those beautiful blue shutters

 
 

Whoo Hoo... Go 'Stros! World Series Bound! 

Nothing’s easy #582 – Don’t they know how to use scissors?

Before we left Houston, I took the kids down to have a s%#$load of passport photos made because I knew that we would need to supply them for EVERYTHING! And, of course we have had to do that. We are currently trying to get their carte de sejour before the end of the year. (not sure why the deadline, but whatever) So Paul was asked to supply passport photos and he did. But we got a letter back saying that they were not the right size – and in the note was a box, drawn to the exact size that the photo had to be. It seems that the difference between an American passport photo and a French passport photo is that the American ones are square and the French ones are rectangular. So the American pictures have a lot of blank space on the sides, that’s all.

So… I’m wondering…. Why didn’t they just CUT the photo to the proper size? Did they not think of that? Did they just want me to cut the photos? Am I allowed to cut them? I certainly can’t get my kids to take a French passport photo when they are not over here. Should I take the chance, cut them myself only to have them sent back with a note saying…. “ah ha… we caught you cutting passport photos… you will be deported!”

So... what a dilemma! I decided to scan the photos and then reduce them on my computer then print them out in the new perfect size. Problem is...we bought Photoshop once we got here and it’s all in French (even though we installed it with the English option.) Time is running out and I’m losing patience... so I did it the old-fashioned way... kinda like cropping pictures when I worked on the yearbook in high school... except I did it with Paint. It worked. OK... good….. ready to print. Ahhh… the printer is running out of ink.

So... I go down to the mall to buy cartridges… and guess what... the photo cartridge that I need is nowhere on the shelves, all sold out! Now what???? I don’t know... except that nothing is easy anymore.

I think I will try those scissors after all.

PAUSE, REWIND, or FAST-FORWARD

If only life had the same buttons as what we find on the VCR, it would be a bit easier, I believe. My French is not yet to the point where I actually think in French so everything requires at least 3 steps:
1. hear French
2. engage brain
3. translate to English for comprehension

Reading is not too bad… I got all the time in the world (sort of) and I can also go back and reread if necessary – so it’s not much of a problem. But in conversation, it’s a real big problem. That is exactly why I need those buttons. Here is how it would work:
1. someone speaks to me ... Blaaahe’ Blaaahe’ Blaaahe’
2. if I don’t get it, my mind goes to work....
.....did they say blaaahe’ blaaah eblaaahe’ or
.....did they say blaaah e’blaaae’ blaaahe’

Well, for example …..
Did they just say....
c'est la plus belle (it’s the most beautiful) or
Did they just say....
c'est la poubelle (it’s the trashcan)
See what I mean??? Big difference.

So if I don’t exactly know, it would be convenient to press the REWIND/PLAYBACK button. Sometimes, I guess that the look on my face (in effect) “presses the button” because someone will usually repeat… or else they will make it even more complicated by saying the same thing using different words – I hate when that happens because it starts the process all over again!

Anyway, once I understand what is said to me, the PAUSE button would help as I am standing there looking like a deer caught in the headlights. What they don’t know is that – despite the look on my face – my brain is racing at warp speed.

It works like this…. OK, translate into English … comprehend… try to figure out (in English) the proper response that answers correctly …. translate that into French…. check the grammer…(aaaah! masculine? feminine? singular? plural? etc. etc.) … then spit it out.

All the while… I am standing there with the deer-in-the-headlights-stare… and it would be nice to have used the PAUSE button.

the upper windows from mid level 

St. Jean Cathedral tour 

in front of the rose window 

Tour of Cathedral St. Jean

We were privileged to have the opportunity to tour St. Jean Cathedral with Didier Repelin – the chief architect of Historic monuments in the Rhone region of france. He has done work in New York and has an international reputation in the field of Historic Preservation.

We met outside Saturday morning with other Americans living here and learned so many fascinating things about the cathedral. He began by telling us that the Lyonnaise are anti-fashion…. Paris is very fashion-conscious, but by nature, the Lyonnaise don’t care for fashion, or at least will test to see if the fashion remains a fashion or is simply a fad. So in building the cathedral, gothic architecture was the “fashion” for a while before Lyon decided to use the style for it’s cathedral and so it is a mature gothic style. It also has the style of the southern France buildings as well and so therefore is a great representation of it’s location – between Paris and the southern coast.

I could write a really long story of what we learned, but I will try to keep it short. Needless to say, the tour was wonderful! Mr. Repelin himself worked on the restoration of the cathedral so he knew it intimately and we felt his enthusiasm. The rose window above the entrance of the church is unique because it is not like typical ones where the supports look like spokes in a wheel. In this one, it is curvy and structurally should not hold up, but it has for about 6 or 7 centuries.

He remarked that there is a famous smiling angel on a cathedral elsewhere in France (and Ginny and I saw it!!) but there is also a smiling angel on the cathedral in Lyon. Sadly, many of the statues were “beheaded” during the revolution by people shooting the heads with a gun. The statues that were high on the building survived because the people were bad shots and this angel was one of the survivors. Also, the angels surrounding the door are playing instruments and because they were finely carved, Mr. Repelin could tell what notes they were playing…. and when he compiled the notes, he determined that they were the music to the opening of the liturgy of the church!

So much more… but then we went inside and were allowed to climb the stairs to the mid level where he said this was the level where the statue carvers typically had free reign to decorate as they pleased. So we saw self-portraits of the carvers, silly faces, dog faces, and some fascinating stuff. We got up close to the rear rose window to see how flexible the window was and how the medallions can be easily removed. I got some great pictures of the city from the top of the church. What a view on a beautiful day!

We also got to enter the area where priests dress. He showed us all the secret compartments where everything from the earliest times still sits in the drawers and cabinets because the revolutionaries didn’t find the loot.

We spent about 3 hours in the cathedral. I didn’t want it to end. I learned so many fascinating things about the church. We go to mass there often and I don’t think I will ever be able to concentrate on the mass again while in a place with such a fascinating history!

See photos of our tour.

looking down into the church from top 

who is that guy? 

speaking of gifts...

I keep a list on the refridgerator of things I would like to have if someone comes to visit or would be sending us a package. Thanksgiving will be here before you know it and I've been dreaming of a can of cranberry sauce (you know, the kind that you have to open on both ends and push out slowly.) It's a wonderful gift idea as are packs of chocolate chips. Our list of food items for Santa also includes cornbread mixes and GRITS - neither of which are French delicacies.

A nice household gift would be a pack of light bulbs - you see, we did bring a couple of our favorite table lamps over here and we use them with a voltage converter. It's great, but I didn't bring any extra bulbs so I carefully ration the use of these lamps. So light bulbs would be greatly appreciated ... instead of a brand new beautiful sweater, carefully chosen and beautifully wrapped. Honest.

And if your budget is limited this year, not to worry... old magazines would make a splendid gift. You don't even have to buy new ones - just send the ones you plan to discard. Don't worry about our tastes compared to yours - you can even send us "Hang-Gliding Quarterly" and we would be happy to receive it. (Just as long as it is in English!)

the right stuff 

Peter Pan Peanut Butter

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been buying peanut butter. Every big trip to the grocery store would always include the purchase of a jar of peanut butter. That was a staple in our house. It didn’t matter what kind I bought, just as long it was Peter Pan brand. It could be creamy, or crunchy, or low fat, or extra-smooth; it would always disappear only to be replaced at a later time. I rarely ate the stuff myself.

Before our move to France, I learned that peanut butter was something that we were going to have to learn to live without. As I packed my carry-on for the final trip abroad, I threw in a few jars of Peter Pan peanut butter.

One day last summer when Jeffrey was here and attending French classes, he came home one day and said that he was required to bring some American food to his class to share with the others. So… naturallment… I thought of peanut butter sandwiches. I really don’t remember if I made peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches or simply peanut-butter sandwiches, but I do remember that I used the crunchy stuff..

Soon after the assignment I learned that Paul only eats CRUNCHY peanut butter! Mea culpa, mea culpa! I had committed a mortal sin. Needless to say, the smooth and the low-fat has been sitting in the cabinet ever since, untouched.

When my friend Ginny came to visit, she came bearing gifts, valuable gifts….. picante sauce and peanut butter – CRUNCHY peanut butter. My sin has been forgiven!

So it was a bit of deja-vu this week when my French teacher told our class that each of us should bring something to eat that is typical of our country. Ah Ha! I said… I will bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches….and so it began…. hunting and gathering. I had the SMOOTH peanut butter and I just needed Pain Anglaise – “Harry’s American Bread” – it is called - and some grape jelly. Off I went with my shopping cart to the big store where shopping is so stressful….

I found the sliced bread but never could find grape jelly – confiture de raisin (I guess). I left the store… and so I will make the sandwiches using peach, pear, or whatever else we have in the fridge! I think they may not know the difference!

So…. As you are considering those Christmas gifts… you can make it easy on yourself by getting us some peanut butter. I know what you are thinking…. “Peanut butter?? I could spend less than 5 bucks and they would be happy?” Yep we would. But it would cost you a whole bunch more than 5 bucks to mail it… but….think about it, no fighting the crowds at the mall....no worry about the right size...

Merry Christmas!

before Limoges, we saw the chateux of the loire valley 

plates 

the good and the not so good

The least favorite place we visted on my Tour de France was ... (sorry Madame Bencze).. .. Limoges. But before I left on the trip, we were talking to our french friends. Alain asked me what cities I would be visiting and a I drew a blank. I remembered that we would be going to Paris and Lyon (the obvious ones) but the only other town I could remember was Limoges simply because the french teacher with whom I taught at STE is from there. Our friend Alain remarked, "Why would anyone go there... there is nothing to see... nothing to do... That is a very bad idea." I thought... hmmm... we will see.

We arrived in Limoges just before noon on a Sunday. The tour director took us into a porcelain museum. Yeah, a museum with lots of painted teacups and plates. I don't think the men on the tour got as excited about the teacups as our tour guide did - and honestly, neither did I. She actually said... "I am sorry you do not have more time to spend in here. You should spend a day instead of an hour."

So after spending what seemed like a day in the porcelain museum, we went into the center of town. It was Sunday so everything was closed except for the bakery. I bought a baguette and happened to have an apple in my bag so Gin and I sat on a park bench, ate our food, and fed the birds. First there were a couple of little tiny birds - then they must have told all their friends because we then had about 20 little tiny birds around us. Then came the bully pigeons. As I glanced to my right where the concrete met the dirt of the garden, out peeked a mouse wanting his fair share.

And that was the excitement in the city of Limoges. By the way Alain... you were right.

In the News 

What's Happening with Floyd?

He's a celebrity, I suppose. Not the way anyone would want to be...

So this article about him appeared in USA today about a month ago.

(We didn't know.... we are way over here across the world!!)

But now, through Kate then Jack (thanks Jack!) we have learned that there is the follow up article about him again in USA today.

Floyd is Paul's older brother, in case you didn't know that.

a complimentary glass of champagne for us 

Last night of the trip - Paris

Yeah, I was right..... just got my opinion of Parisians confirmed. I gave it a second chance, even a third chance. But our final night in Paris did nothing to change my mind about how rude and snooty Parisians can be (or is it just the waiters?) I would even like to leave a little room for doubt - or maybe believe that I'm making a judgement based on how the waiters behave.... I'll be here for a few more years - maybe I'll have to give them a 20th chance to change my mind.

So here's what happened... Well, in my opinion, it was very bad planning on the part of the tour to have an optional excursion on the very last night of the tour. When you spend 3 weeks on a tour bus with 40+ people, you make a lot of friends and it's nice to have a final evening with them before everyone gets scattered. But it couldn't happen because half the group went to a show at the Moulin Rouge, a few went to see more Paris sights, and so there we were... the "stragglers" who had no specific plans. I was a straggler. One of our group talked to the concierge about a good place to go have dinner. He made reservations for us and we set out for dinner. We were even greeted with a complimentary glass of champagne. A good night ahead... or so I thought.

Before we were even seated, one in our group - Bob - asked the restaurant people if they would take his credit card. Bob only had about 10 euros on him and he was using a temporary replacement credit card because a French pickpocket was out enjoying his real credit card. The restaurant said, en Francais, no problem.

The waiter came and took our order and spoke perfect English. We asked if he could provide separate checks - no problem! The food was excellent - I had mussels and a wonderful dessert. When it came time to pay the bill, the waiter suddenly couldn't speak English anymore. He had combined the bills of several people and would not separate them. He told Harry that the tip was NOT included in the bill and there was nothing to indicate otherwise. (Liar, Liar, pants on fire.) I then paid with my French credit card. He commnented (en francais) that it was a french card. I told him yes and that I lived in Lyon. Transaction completed... c'est bon.

Then it was Bob's turn to pay. Bob tried to explain that he pre-approved the use of this temporary card earlier that night and that it would involve a "non-swipe" use, that is, they would have KEY IN his number. But no, the waiter wanted to swipe it and pretend to not understand. He then told me (in french remember because he suddenly lost his ability to speak English) that to approve Bob's card would involve making a phone call to the US (NOT!) and they did not want to pay for a long distance call. I laughed to myself... yeah, a phone call at 3 in the morning to the US? So poor Bob would have to wash dishes or else come up with the money to pay the bill. We all gladly pitched in but Bob was a bit dissapointed that we cleverly didn't give him enought to leave a tip.

Oh, and I've posted some more pictures.... and will continue posting more.

Can you believe this??

Hurricane Vince to hit Europe, to go in at Portugal!

And the path is headed straight for us.

check out the path of vince 

The highlights

Almost three weeks of touring around France has filled my brain and heart to capacity. Downloading it all may take a while but the most impressive sights will come first.

The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris –

We actually went to a Gregorian mass at Notre Dame on the Sunday morning that we were there. Needless to say… it was wow.

But on seeing it as a tourist… some background information must come first…. Ginny and I purchased the Paris Visitors Pass which let us into 70+ museums and sights without having to pay at the door and also without having to wait in line. What we found was that it also gave us a sense of impromptu touring. For example, we were in the general area of the Cluny Museum and it was open and we knew we could easily walk in, check it out, and if we found it boring, we could just leave without feeling bad about having paid the admission fee. This place was well worth every minute that we were there.

What I found most fascinating…. We walked into a room with dramatic lighting, seats (so you could sit a while) and a whole bunch of broken statues. By the way, all the museum statues in France are broken! But these statues were different – the bodies were in the front of the room and greatly reconstructed… and the heads were on pedestals on the side. Many of the heads were wearing crowns. The museum gave us a “map” so that we could match the heads with the bodies. OK….. so what was that all about?

Well… these were the original statues on the front of the Notre Dame Cathedral. They represented the kings of Israel and people from the bible. But during the French Revolution, anything “kingly” was beheaded and the French revolutionists did not know that the statues had nothing to do with the French royalty so they broke the heads off all these statues (guillotined them) and then busted them up. After the dust settled (literally), and long after the revolution, new statues were recreated and put back on the front of the cathedral.

But back then, some observer during the revolution was appalled to see it all happen and so he collected all the heads and buried them in salt and preserved them for hundreds of years. Just recently, in 1977, they were discovered in the basement of a Parisian bank. And now they sit in this museum.

The Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris 

on the facade of Notre Dame 

Cluny heads