Parler-ing in French

      One of the reasons we came to France was for me to learn how to speak French. I know, what a silly notion going to a country that speaks the language you want to learn.  The problem is that I am not naturally good with languages.  Unless you count gesturing and charades as a language. I can do a decent “call me” “I don’t know” and “this way”.  I am pretty fluent as well in the language of driving in Boston. Which if anyone has done then you know you speak a whole different way when trying to maneuver a city built without a grid, no respect for street signs, and a whole bevy of people who don’t seem to know that the stick on the side of the steering wheel offers help when trying to say, turn.

     I digress.  I have been trying to learn French.  I find that the experience can best be compared to driving cross country with only a radio.  Imagine: you are driving and scanning the stations- getting a few words to come in clear every so often.  You get lucky and catch an ENTIRE song-no matter that it is a song picked out by Delilah- it is a SONG.  But then… you drive on a bad patch of road and find yourself suddenly listening to sports, or is a political discussion? You may catch a few words here or there- but you make up what is said in between.

     This is what gets me in trouble. I have an incredibly active imagination and therefore assume I can just story-tell my way through most conversations.  So what I thought was a conversation on three priests from Holland who came to France to enjoy the beautiful cost along Brittany…was actually about thee brothers from Ireland who were escaping repression.  See what I mean?  There is a bit of the truth- but not really.

     Talking is even worse for me. I find my confidence is so low when it comes to speaking that I prefer being assumed mute.  It is incredibly frustrating to me that I will spend ten minutes practicing a sentence in my head only to have the topic of conversation pass me by.  I imagine the look on my face whilst I try to conjugate a verb in my head must make me look a bit deranged.  I have been practicing an impassive face that will not give away the immense internal distress I am going through. I find that it is much easier to sit back and observe an entire dinner without saying anything except “C’est bon!”. Which it usually is.  French food is tasty. 

Trigger Happy

If photos are your thing- and you want to see more of what we have been up to (I'm looking at you Mom!)-Matthieu and I have taken loads of photos. We try to pick the best to put in our online albumn.  If you click on any of the pics in the slideshow to the right (follow Matthieu's pointing hand) you will find our travel album.  You can click on "view all" on the left hand side above the photo that opens in a new window to get better browsing of the chaos of pics. 
They start with Ireland, then go to Wales, France, Italy, France...

We leave in about 4 hours for Morocco so check back in 2 weeks for pictures of 

dunes, dessert, mountains and markets. 

Some taunting photos for the taste buds...

While Matthieu spent the past two weeks hard at work, I was very busy eating the products of his toil and using the fuel for long walks around Rouen. 

Emilie- you will LOVE his petit pain au sucre!

 

Le Polaroid de la semaine: Neuvième Semaine!

Rouen, France

Matthieu in boulangerie school.

 He learned to make: baguette, croissant, pain au chocolat, brioche...

Le Polaroid de la semaine: Huitième Semaine!

 Rouen, France

(Site of the burning of Joan of Arc!)

Besides visiting museums, I did a lot of window shopping, which in French is 

"faire du lèche-vitrine" which translates literally to licking windows. 

I like that better than window shopping. 

That is me, on the bottom right hand side.  You can see my little white hat. 

I am admiring a shop that sells sculptures as well as teaches sculpture classes.  

People just come in when they can to work on their art! 

If I had a million dollars OR Haven't you always wanted a monkey?

If I had a million dollars just in spending money, I would have bought a lot today. Matthieu and I did a lot of window licking (see next blog entry!). We went up and down a lot of streets, but perhaps most interesting was this little road of antiques stores. Antique stores with character. Rouen is an amazing town and if we could, we would love living here. There is a store for everything, museums of interest, parks, a vibrant art community, vintage clothing stores that make me swoon, book stores with fireplaces and exposed brick, and most important: incredibly pleasant people!

Things I would have bought today:

A 1950’s orange bathing cap. I have wanted a bathing cap since A) Watching little Orphan Annie swim with one in Daddy Warbucks’ pool. B) Miss Piggie’s swimming show in “The Muppets…” and of course when C) Hailey Mills has one on when “she” stands on her own shoulders and beckons the evil potential step-mother into the depths. 
In fact, I think she rocks a bathing cap in a lot of scenes.

A vintage hat box from Paris with gold and black filigree. Gorgeous. 
Perfect for keeping tea party hats secure between tea parties!

A royal blue hat with veil and a plum of matching blue flowers and feathers. 
To go in the hat box, of course.

A set of silver sugar cube tongs, the pincer part shaped like the talons of an Eagle or a Griffin. I got a little overly excited at the mental image of dive bombing my tea with sugar cubes dropped from the great heights of a large bird. I may have made bomb sound effects- luckily the antiques dealer laughed. I also concocted an elaborate story of how our future grandchildren would fight to own these some day- and I would happily grant them to the grandchild with the best Griffin/Eagle story. Alas. The silver sugar cube tongs were much too pricey.

An original “tiffany” blue clay Fluer De Leis made in Quimper. Quimper is known in the Brittany region for its pottery- this is a very old piece that Matthieu was very drawn to. It was a bit pricey as well, but just a gorgeous little crude piece of pottery. The blue patented by Tiffany, well I am pretty sure this is almost spot on and Quimper did it first.

A stunning wood display case with glass cases and little drawers. I have nothing to display in it. But I am sure if I had a million dollars I could come up with something. It would be an amazing showpiece for an artist’s jewelry. I am a sucker for little drawers as well. I think it had to do with my card catalogue love.

A headless mannequin. It really was quite a nice old mannequin with a cloth body and wooden limbs. It looked a little cold. If I owned it I would make sure to keep it dressed. And make it a head, so I could display tea party hats.

And perhaps the pinnacle of our day is best shown in picture:

Yes, that is a baby crocodile. It has been “stuffed” and posed to be jauntily holding a leather bag. The irony is not lost on me. This little gem of a find cost 70 Euros! We took a free picture instead. I can’t help but feel sorry for that little crocodile…

We spent an entire day shopping and ended up spending 8 Euros on old postcards. In the early 1900’s there was a whole series of cards to celebrate the different holidays. We tried to buy one for each holiday, I hope to display them in our imaginary house, in our imaginary living room. The store we bought them in was unlike any store I have ever seen. A skinny, dark and damp shop with masks from every culture glaring from the walls. The owner was a large and jolly man who wore a necklace of teeth and listened to heavy metal. He also gave us free coffee and let us paw through as many boxes as we wanted. He had over 5,000 postcards- I think we made it through a fifth. I might go back today…

Interlude: an apology and a poem

I feel like I have been very bad at updating this blog with interesting facts, experiences, and prose.  The Polaroid of the week keeps us on track- but there is so much MORE.  The food. the holidays. the people. the fashion. the history.  
There is almost too much for me to write about. 

So, tell me.  What do YOU want me to write about?  Leave a comment (it can be anonymous) and let me know what you think. Perhaps the picture is enough, and is all people want to look at.  Perhaps the only person I should be apologizing to is myself...because I know I will want to remember all of this. 

I leave this interlude with a poem by Ogden Nash:

UNANSWERED BY REQUEST

There are several little things in life that keep me guessing.  

And one of them is what are the French words for French

leave and French-fried potatoes and French dressing.  

And I am also a trifle vague

About how you ask people to a Dutch treat or talk to them 

like a 

Dutch Uncle in The Hague. 

Le Polaroid de la semaine: Septième Semaine!

Paris, France

Waiting for the Metro with our

amazing hosts Emilie and Christoph.

(After a walk by Sacré-Cœur, a crepe party dinner, and a very entertaining musical performance

which included an appearance by Batman, fog machines, and 

Jackie learning that French children are visited by a tiny mouse when they lose teeth)

Le Polaroid de la semaine: Sixieme Semaine!

Rennes, France

Planning, Reading, Streaming US TV, Both of us sick, Cold Weather, Tea (lots)

P.S. Meet Sam, our amazing netbook.  Jackie is in love. It is blue.

Le Polaroid de la semaine: Cinquieme Semaine!

Biger Family Vacation

Venice, Italy