An Expat Life

My dream blog

2011-12-20T22:31:00.001+01:00

This woman has got it right.

http://feministryangosling.tumblr.com/post/14469966929

I love this cat

2011-06-25T10:04:00.001+02:00

If one day in the distant future I decide to get a cat again, I think I'll get a Scottish fold...

Language alert, NSFW

2010-09-27T23:31:00.001+02:00

This is BY FAR the funniest video I have seen since the first time I ever discovered You Tube. Ames sensibles, s'abstenir !! Lots of language, but this woman is smart, hilarious and full of intelligent insight. She also gets in more fantastically repeatable one-liners in under 5 minutes than many comedy films do in 90 minutes. I love her and I can't stop watching this. Enjoy.
(Note: if you haven't been following the Eddie Long debacle, this might not be as funny to you... so Google Bishop Long and then come back and watch it. It's worth it.)

Viva l'italia !

2010-05-22T16:10:00.004+02:00

I’m having one of the best vacations I’ve had in ages, which is funny because when this trip started last week, I thought it would be the worst. On the night train from Dijon to Rome, one of the other women in my compartment stole all the cash from my purse while I was sleeping. So much for women's solidarity. Then when I got to filthy, noisy, overcrowded, polluted and touristy Rome, it rained for almost 3 solid days. And, I was burning up with fever and suffering from what felt like the stomach flu, except nothing was coming out. Neat. Not.
The tribulations continued from Rome to Puglia. After the rotten first three days, I thought I deserved a first-class ticket for the train down to see Amory & Jim. So, I splurged, thinking I would have a 4-hour ride in the comfort of a modern, well-equipped train. This was true for almost the entire first hour of the journey. Then, the conductor came by and explained that we would all have to get off the train and onto a bus, because the tracks were washed out. (!!!???) The bus would take us to Foggia, where we would get back on another train. Of course, there’s no distinction between first and second class on a bus, and it was impossible to sleep with all the Italians jabbering away on their cell phones, not to mention the unbelievably overwhelming and unpleasant odour of stale cigarette smoke emanating from the couple sitting right in front of me that made it seem as though I had just licked several ashtrays myself. Then the second train seemed to be from about 50 years ago, so not exactly cushy travelling comfort, even in “1st class”. I am preparing another photo essay entitled “Italy: first or third world?” but that’s for another blog entry…
Luckily, things improved vastly as soon as Jim & Amory came to pick me up, right on time as usual (but the train was over an hour late!).
The weather has been nearly perfect, the food fantastic, the wine divine and the company splendid. We have spent time biking, chatting, eating and drinking. Amory has made several delicious meals at home, we were invited to a charming birthday party one evening, we ordered in pizza another time, and we had a fabulous evening out where somehow I managed to finish off everyone else’s pasta except Jim’s. I have overindulged in various kinds of cornetti filled with either vanilla cream or chocolate cream. Although I could almost fit into my skinny jeans before leaving Cormatin, I think that several weeks of major hiking will be required now before a true fit becomes a reality. La dolce vita !

Tis the season

2010-02-26T07:09:00.006+01:00

Spring seems to be just around the corner… the temperatures have leaped into the double-digits (in Celsius, of course!), new-born lambs with spring-loaded legs are bouncing around like pop-up toys in the fields that are also full of countless new calves who kick up their heels.
The sun is getting up earlier and going to bed later.
There’s an entirely different feel to the air.
My backyard is full of birds serenading me to let me know they are back for good, no longer just passing through to warmer climes. Even the semi-wild cats have fresh good-hearted mischief and more love in them.
There’s only one thing I can say about it all, or rather, I’ll let Louis do the talking for me…
For some reason, the site is not letting me put the video in here, so please click on the "Tis the season" title now.

2010-02-17T08:38:00.004+01:00

My intentions of napping on the train to Paris have been thwarted by the screaming baby in the row just in front of me and to my left… shouldn’t there be an age and/or height limit to get into the first-class cars, like on carnival rides? Here is where I would actually be for a “separate but equal” policy – families travelling with screaming, boisterous children could all go in one car, and business and child-free travellers can be in another car, just like there used to be smoking and non-smoking compartments… I purposely chose my travel dates so as to avoid the school holidays, a time when trains in France are any childless person’s worst nightmare… but I am being punished for my organization by someone too young to be affected by the winter break. I take some solace in the fact that I can see on the faces of everyone else around me that they are also totally irritated. The sign that reads “Voiture silencieuse” on the door seems to mock us. We are travel martyrs but at least we have more comfortable seats than in 2nd class…
So, since I can’t sleep, I thought I’d take advantage of the plug at my seat to follow up on my return to the blog.
In the same vein as that first note of the year, herewith some more reasons why I would never want to move back to Paris or any big city for that matter. This morning I took the photos that follow during a 15-minute walk back to my house from dropping my car off at the garage to have some work done on it while I’m in Paris. Can you imagine getting this scenery during a 15-minute walk in Paris? or anywhere else for that matter? Can you feel the love?
A love which grows as the train whizzes through the rest of Burgundy, which appears to be entirely snowbound and bitterly cold.
Enjoy.

Back on the blog

2010-01-27T11:00:00.003+01:00

Now that I’m single again, I should have more time to update the blog (although we can all cross our fingers that more work will be coming in soon to prevent me from having too much free time on my hands, and of course, that Prince Charming will arrive in the not-too distant future too… ;)

People often ask me if I miss Paris now that I live out in the boonies. This question bewilders me, as it seems so OBVIOUS to me how much better life is out here in the country and what could I possibly miss about the stress/noise/pollution/dog-poop on the sidewalks/overcrowded and smelly subway/constant aggression from your fellow Parisian/no smiles/not nearly enough trees or space or sunshine, etc etc etc.
In my mind, what sums up the perfection of where I reside is something quite simple.
It is this:
I see blue herons every day.

Ever since I was a little girl in Texas, blue herons have been one of my favorite birds. I think they are strikingly beautiful, so graceful, and then that unusual color…
We used to get so excited on the exceptional occasion that we would spot one on Lake Livingston or Lake Conroe.

Now I see them all the time. Literally every day. Sometimes in groups of 5 or 6, usually just one on its own. Yet I am never blasé in their presence. I saw one swoop down and nail a fish last week, a first, and I almost shouted out loud with joy.
I always know that the best way to ensure that I get really, really close to one before it flies off is to forget to take my camera on a walk. Somehow, they sense this.
I never take them for granted.
I also see countless crows, starlings, goldfinches, thrushes, buzzards, kestrels, robins, white egrets, ducks, geese, cormorants, coots, etc. and the occasional couple of swans. But it’s the blue herons that get me every time. Their beauty moves me, in much the same way as the southern Burgundy landscapes.

Yes, sometimes I wish I could eat sushi every week, or just walk downstairs to pick out some of my favorite cheeses and maybe a new pair of shoes, or not have to worry about driving home after a late night at a fabulous restaurant… but those times are rare, while here, blue herons are not.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-17T18:42:00.008+01:00

It's turning out to be another fabulous fall and winter here in Cormatin. After a stellar visit to Austin with a delicious Thanksgiving and an unforgettable 40th birthday, I've returned to stunning sunsets, a bit of snow, and plenty of Christmas spirit.

Life is good.

Happy Holidays everyone!

Surprise pre-birthday bash here in France
Blessed by the presence of so many friends and family at my party, including my cousins Karen, Shauna, and Susan

Emmanuelle's wedding

Amazing cloud formations upon my return home

First Christmas tree in Cormatin!

Wish I had found this earlier...

2008-11-18T03:51:00.001+01:00

Even though the shameful WBush era is now going into the garbage can -- good riddance! this older video is still a great laugh.

A very telling Sarah Palin clip

2008-10-30T08:37:00.001+01:00

No comment necessary for this one. She digs her own grave by herself...

Clearing things up for the election

2008-10-30T08:18:00.002+01:00

This brilliant piece highlighting the hypocrisy of the McCain/Palin campaign was written by Tom Minor. Folks on the fence might want to give it some deep thought.

I'm a little confused. Let me see if I have this straight.....

* If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're "exotic, different."

* Grow up in Alaska eating moose burgers, a quintessential American story.

* If your name is Barack you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.

* Name your kids Willow, Trig and Track, and you're a maverick.

* Graduate from Harvard law School and be President of the Law Review, and you are unstable.

* Attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.

* If you spend 3 years as a community organizer, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.

* If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.

* If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.

* If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.

* If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.

* If , while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.

* If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America's.

* If your husband is nicknamed "First Dude", with at least one DUI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

OK, much clearer now.

Because we all need a good laugh out loud during these trying times

2008-10-28T21:38:00.001+01:00

And this video is just the key to some big belly laughs!!
Thanks to Gene for sharing.
Enjoy!

The Vet Who Did Not Vet

2008-10-25T10:19:00.001+02:00

Here's hoping that all this creativity channelled into these videos also gets channelled to the voting booths...

Words of wisdom

2008-10-22T23:06:00.002+02:00

from 1798, bringing back to mind the quote that I have probably uttered the most in my life: those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.
Thanks to CWB for sharing this gem.

A little patience, and we shall see the reign of witches pass over, their spells dissolve, and the people, recovering their true sight, restore their government to its true principles. It is true that in the meantime we are suffering deeply in spirit, and incurring the horrors of a war and long oppressions of enormous public debt... -- Thomas Jefferson

Talk To Your Parents About John McCain

2008-10-14T16:14:00.001+02:00

You know these kinds of discussions can sometimes be difficult between parents and children... but this video could help!

Serious arguments for voting Republican

2008-10-07T23:35:00.000+02:00

How quickly we forget...

2008-09-16T21:40:00.001+02:00

Every election year both political parties in the US start playing fast and loose with the facts. And unfortunately, it seems that most US media outlets are not willing to call them out on their exaggerating and lying.
So, don't forget that you can always turn to www.factcheck.org for a non-partisan run-down on what is the TRUTH. Or, just the facts, presented in an unbiased, straightforward manner.
Why don't our politicians keep in mind the advice the Thompson Twins gave us in the 1980s?

Putting things in perspective...

2008-09-05T07:41:00.003+02:00

with humour... some of the first election coverage I've seen that didn't turn my stomach. Thanks for sharing, Dan!

Politics and eat your veggies

2008-08-06T09:04:00.006+02:00

So my esteem has risen for Paris Hilton (well, actually, previously I had no esteem whatsoever for her, so on a scale of 1 to 10 she's gone from sub-zero to about a 4) after her snappy comeback to John McCain's pathetic attack ad comparing her to Obama (jealousmuch?) and I think her video is worth watching for a good laugh (although I'm against her plug for tanning! doesn't she know about skin cancer risk???)
I was impressed with her sense of humour and delivery, although disappointed that the folks at funny or die only came up with an overly simplistic energy policy when they could have taken this opportunity to make a truly intelligent point.

See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die

But I'll get off my soapbox and get to more important matters: food.

Featuring a recipe from my garden.

Well, kind of… this zucchini (or courgette for my UK friends) is from my garden (my first ‑ I’m so proud!) but the recipe was inspired by a few I found on the internet, to which I added my own personal touch. I actually came up with this recipe prior to having my very own courgette/ zucchini plant so I had some time to perfect it before my garden began giving birth to such beautiful babies.

What you’ll need:
Round zucchini or hefty long ones (for a main course to feed two people, I usually make 4 of the round or 2 of the long)
Feta (when in stock, I buy the reduced fat version as there is no detectable difference in taste, especially for this recipe)
Already cooked lentils
Pine nuts (optional)
Olive oil
Various curry spices (besides a pre-mixed curry powder, I also throw in some garlic, cumin and ginger, as well as salt and pepper)

Now, I despise following recipes to a T and for a dish like this, don’t think that exact measurements are important. It’s the taste that’s important! So these are just my general guidelines and then you can play with it and make your adjustments as suits your mood or personal preferences. For example, the first time I made this, I wasn’t chez moi so I didn’t have access to much in the way of spice. Instead of going the pseudo-Indian route, I had to go the pseudo-Provençal/ Mediterranean route, using “herbes de Provence” and mixing in some parmesan with the feta to give it a bigger bang. It was also very good, but right now I’m on a curry groove.

Preheat the oven to around 180°C. Cut the tops off the round zucchini or halve the long ones lengthwise. Scoop out the flesh to around a quarter of an inch from the skin (finally a use for that melon baller I bought years ago and never touched!!). Drizzle a little olive oil on the zucchini shells. Salt, pepper. Stick them in the oven for around 20 to 30 minutes. Meanwhile, heat some olive oil in a pan and cook the flesh until its tender. I add some curry to this while it’s cooking. I then mix a package of feta (there’s a standard size here in France but I couldn’t tell you how many grams or ounces it is…) with a package of pre-cooked lentils (the vacuum packed ones sold in the veggie section of most French grocery stores) in a separate bowl. I spice this up to taste. If I have the time, I do things properly and let the zucchini flesh cool before incorporating it into the lentil/feta mix. Have I mentioned that you should be toasting the pine nuts about now too? When they’re done, mix them in with the feta/lentils/zucchini flesh. Scoop this unfortunately rather unattractive-looking mixture into the zucchini shells and put it back in the oven for another 15 to 20 minutes with a sprinkle of pine nuts on top. Serve straight to the table. I find that the end result – a very easy, tasty, low-fat and extremely healthy (as well as filling!) meal ‑ goes equally well with white or red or rosé.
Bon appétit !

Important article from Time magazine

2008-07-31T20:23:00.002+02:00

Given all the hub-bub about offshore drilling and insane gas prices, I think it's important to keep things in perspective, and it seems to me that this article from June does a good job of laying out some key facts. I have added emphasis to parts I consider especially interesting. For some reason, I couldn't reproduce the article as is to Blogger (although Time provides the service for numerous other blog sites...) so I just copied and pasted it in, which I hope is not violating any copyright rules (if it is, I hope my friend Siva will correct me gently on it. ;)

By the way, have you all registered to vote?

"Will More Drilling Mean Cheaper Gas?"
Wednesday, Jun. 18, 2008 By BRYAN WALSH

On Wednesday morning President George W. Bush urged Congress to overturn a 26-year ban on offshore oil drilling in the U.S. and open a part of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) to petroleum exploration. Flanked by the secretaries of Energy and the Interior, Bush also proposed streamlining the construction process for new oil refineries, and explained that these moves would "take pressure off gas prices over time by expanding the amount of American-made oil and gasoline." Coming a day after Republican presumptive presidential nominee John McCain made a similar appeal to enhance domestic oil exploration, Bush was sending an unsubtle election-year message to the American public: I care about the economic toll of $4-a-gallon gas, and Democrats in Congress, who have opposed such an expansion, don't.

But there's a flaw in that logic: even if tomorrow we opened up every square mile of the outer continental shelf to offshore rigs, even if we drilled the entire state of Alaska and pulled new refineries out of thin air, the impact on gas prices would be minimal and delayed at best. A 2004 study by the government's Energy Information Administration (EIA) found that drilling in ANWR would trim the price of gas by 3.5 cents a gallon by 2027. (If oil prices continue to skyrocket, the savings would be greater, but not by much.) Opening up offshore areas to oil exploration — currently all coastal areas save a section of the Gulf of Mexico are off-limits, thanks to a congressional ban enacted in 1982 and supplemented by an executive order from the first President Bush — might cut the price of gas by 3 to 4 cents a gallon at most, according to the Natural Resources Defense Council. And the relief at the pump, such as it is, wouldn't be immediate — it would take several years, at least, for the oil to begin to flow, which is time enough for increased demand from China, India and the rest of the world to outpace those relatively meager savings. "Right now the price of oil is set on the global market," says Kevin Lindemer, executive managing director of the energy markets group for the research firm Global Insight. President Bush's move "would not have an impact."

The reason is simple: the U.S. has an estimated 3% of global petroleum reserves but consumes 24% of the world's oil. Offshore territories and public lands like ANWR that don't allow drilling may contain up to 75 billion barrels of oil, according to the EIA. That may sound like a lot, but it's not enough to make a significant difference in a world where global oil demand is expected to rise 30% by 2030, to nearly 120 million barrels a day. At best, greatly expanding domestic drilling might eventually lower the proportion of oil the U.S. imports — currently about 60% of its total supply — but petroleum is a global commodity, and the world market would soak up any additional American production. "This is a drop in the bucket," says Gernot Wagner, an economist with the Environmental Defense Fund.

Still, with Americans hurting at the pump, it may be difficult for environmentalists and other opponents of increased domestic drilling to resist the push for more oil, whatever the cost. As recently as his 2000 presidential run, McCain had been against offshore drilling, but he changed that position Tuesday, arguing that individual states should decide for themselves. (He remains against drilling ANWR, however, pointing out that "we called it a 'refuge' for a reason.' ") The Republican Governor of Florida, Charlie Crist — considered a possible vice-presidential candidate — also flip-flopped, backing McCain's position. Though Democratic Senator Barack Obama and most of his party are against the proposed expansion, McCain and his supporters may have the public on their side: a recent Gallup poll found that 57% of Americans believe we should open up new territories to drilling. "It could help in the long term," says Bruce Bullock, director of the Maguire Energy Institute at Southern Methodist University. Still, he acknowledges that even expanded drilling is unlikely to bring prices down much.

Though offshore drilling conjures up fears of catastrophic spills, the petroleum industry rightly argues that safety measures have improved considerably in recent years. A 2003 report by the National Research Council found that only 1% of the oil that polluted U.S. waters came from petroleum operations, like the offshore drilling platforms that run in the Gulf of Mexico — which also weathered Hurricane Katrina without massive spills. If it can be done in an environmentally friendly fashion — and with oil companies themselves footing the bill — opening up some new territory to drilling might be worth it. The reality is that our economy will run on petroleum for the foreseeable future, and that while investing in alternatives is the only way to secure truly low-cost energy over the long term, we'll still need oil for decades more. But any attempt to increase supply must be coupled with even heavier investment in energy efficiency and other methods to decrease oil demand — an approach that, to his credit, McCain has said will be a key part of his energy policy (although in the Senate he has skipped or voted against every fuel efficiency bill since 1990, according to the League of Conservation Voters). In any case, Bush's plan is unlikely to be realized — the Democratic-controlled Congress remains against it, and Bush can't open up the new territory on his own.

Even as Democrats and Republicans squabble over a relatively small amount of petroleum, we're missing out on the opportunity to truly break our addiction to crude. This week the Senate again failed to renew the tax credit for renewable energies like solar and wind; the credit, which expires at the end of the year, is key to the healthy growth of low-carbon alternatives. Without it, "the industry will simply stop," says Santiago Seage, CEO of the Spanish company Abengoa Solar. With energy demand skyrocketing, we'll need more oil, and alternatives like solar, and demand-side measures like toughened auto fuel efficiency standards or tax incentives for Americans to purchase less wasteful cars. We'll have to include action on global warming, like the recently defeated Warner-Lieberman carbon cap and trade bill. A study by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology found that under the bill, U.S. petroleum consumption would have dropped by nearly half by 2030 — savings far in excess of the amount of oil we could ever pull from Alaska or the coasts. "We can't drill our way out of this and we can't conserve our way out either," says Bullock. "We need both." Fair enough. But the sad truth is that neither drilling nor conservation will have an immediate effect on rising gas prices, even if they do have an immediate impact on the presidential race.

A very warm house

2008-07-18T07:32:00.003+02:00

Well, it seems like a year since I posted anything here but it’s actually only been a month and a half… a month and a half explained by preparations for my Bastille day weekend housewarming party. On Saturday July 12, around 40 adults and 5 children joined me in my backyard for locally produced crémant (the champagne of Burgundy), cold cuts, salads and barbecued duck breast (this is France after all!) and various types of sausages, washed down with some local red wine. The last party-goers left around 5 am, with lots of people returning Sunday and Monday to eat leftovers that seemed to go on for days and days. I think it is safe to say that everyone had a good time. Reminiscent of my Champ de Mars picnics, folks had come from all over (besides the locals and the Parisians, some friends came from Alsace and others from Haute Savoie). It was wonderful, but 5 days later I’m still worn out from both the preparations and festivities…

We were incredibly lucky with the weather, as storms had been forecast all weekend long. Saturday was partly cloudy and not as hot as usual, and the rain held off until 1:32 am, at which point the crowd was small enough to fit on my covered terrace. The sun came back in its southern Burgundy splendour on Monday and hasn’t left us since.

Many thanks to all who came and those who gave of their muscle and time to help before and after with prep and clean-up, and the generous souls who brought lovely gifts!! My house and I are much the better for it!! Special mention for my boyfriend Jan, who not only was a tremendous help and fabulous co-host, but who also remained energetic and cheerful throughout the stress leading up to (and during) the big day.

There will be a separate photo album to follow once I gather all the pics together.

Rat rides Cat rides Dog

2008-05-31T17:57:00.001+02:00

Corny, but charming and true...

En mai, fais ce qu'il te plait

2008-05-06T10:40:00.003+02:00

There’s been so much going on here in Horn Morning that I actually forgot I had a blog for a while…
The biggest news of the past month of course being the adoption of “Pinkie” (obviously, not my choice of name but you can’t traumatise a 7-year old French dog by changing her name at this point!)
Here’s a brief catch-up in images.

One of my oldest friends, Lisa B., got married!!
Félicitations!

I got a new welcome mat and Pinkie got a scarf from "Gramma"

Pinkie started making the rounds with her favourite vet, Jan (pronounced Yan)

Happiness is a warm dog

Food for thought

2008-04-05T08:33:00.001+02:00

I can't remember who it was who said "Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it."

Media I love

2008-03-15T14:30:00.001+01:00

Living overseas, I am blocked from watching videos on numerous sites based in the US. An annoying message pops up while the video is trying to load that says “Sorry this content is not available in your area”. I will not even begin to try to understand why… but it is very frustrating and incomprehensible to my logic. It keeps me from seeing news clips, movie trailers, etc.
A site that *never* does this is YouTube, and I totally dig it. Finding old music from my childhood, watching excerpts of my favourite films, keeping up with hilarious incidents like the Sarah Silverman/Jimmy Kimmel “feud”, I can spend hours and hours here.
Another site that does not block us “foreigners” is Ellen Degeneres’ TV show site. I LOVE Ellen. If I were a lesbian, she would be my dream girl. As I am a flaming heterosexual, she is my dream best friend. I have never seen anyone so funny in my entire life. Her show never fails to make me laugh out loud. I think she is a comic genius. I worship and adore her. She even manages to make me like people I think I hate (such as when she had Jenna Bush call up GW at the White House). I admire her intelligence and subtlety. Watch how she handles this total nutcase who is actually an elected politician, a representative from Oklahoma, which should scare every American on the planet “more than terrorism, more than Islam” to quote this total wackjob.

American Humour

2008-03-04T22:24:00.001+01:00

Although everyone often jokes that I am more French than the French, I know that deeep-down, I will always be American when it comes to my sense of humour. This video cracks me up and I can't get enough of it, but I doubt that most of my French friends would get it...
The Jimmy Kimmel/Ben Affleck response is also funny, but not as much as this original zinger.

Winter in southern Burgundy

2008-02-17T09:03:00.006+01:00

In the past month, we’ve had three (3) days of less-than perfect weather. Otherwise, it’s been week after of week of brilliant blue skies propped up by the massive branches of centuries-old trees that are still gorgeous even without their leaves and awe-inspiring landscapes that still move me to tears (not an exaggeration) even though I’ve been here for almost a year now…

Numerous people had warned me against the winter season, the dreary cold, the boredom for lack of cultural stimulation, desolate scenery, etc. I’ve had none of it. This winter has been one of the happiest I’ve had in years, and would have been perfect if only Sheba were still here…

Now that I’ve made it through the first winter, I’ve decided to give up the apartment in Paris after April or May (so if you’ve been thinking about coming for a visit and wanted to spend some time in the big city for free, better buy your tickets asap!) I’m experiencing some financial uncertainty and job precarity (you might have heard of the €5bn problem at my main client, Société Générale?) so I can no longer afford to keep paying rent on an apartment I never use. (And if you know of anyone who needs a French to English translator, please speak up! I’m desperate for work and feeling like Dustin Hoffman’s character in The Graduate:
I’m a little worried about my future…)

Other than that, I haven’t updated the blog recently because I didn’t have the words to express exactly how I’ve been feeling here, in my house and new region. But luckily for us all, some people do have the right words and one of my all-time favourite poems (thank you Michael S for introducing me to it almost 20 years ago) sums up my newfound bliss perfectly, so I’d like to share it with you, along with some images from the past couple of weeks. You could change “Rochester, Minnesota” to “Cormatin, France” to get the picture. Enjoy!

A Blessing
by James Wright

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

Expresso doses of wisdom, coolness or fun

2008-01-09T09:15:00.000+01:00

My cousin Shauna turned me on to this website, which sends a tasty daily snack of a newsletter that I really enjoy. It often whets my appetite for more, but mostly it's the perfect little nugget that gives your day a boost. Although it might just be a chick thing...

One of my recent favourites: http://bethree.com/2007/12/31/every-time-you-open-a-door-you-close-one/

Check it out!

After reading the following article

2008-01-04T13:27:00.000+01:00

I might change the name of my blog to "A Migrant Worker Life"...

http://www.gadling.com/2007/12/29/how-is-an-expat-different-from-a-migrant-worker/

Meanwhile, an image from New Year's Day in the park that runs behind my house.

Happy 2008!!

Signs that at 39, I’m still very immature

2007-12-23T16:00:00.000+01:00

I could probably draw up a top 10 (or even top 20!) list of all the signs that show that I am still very immature for someone of such an advanced age, but this link right here probably sums them all up in a nutshell:

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1719818773

Happy Holidays!!

The scary and sad state of US public education, proof 3

2007-12-06T11:27:00.001+01:00

The scary and sad state of US public education, proof 2

2007-12-06T11:26:00.001+01:00

The scary and sad state of US public education, proof 1

2007-12-06T11:25:00.001+01:00

Book clubs: chic or clique?

2007-12-04T13:55:00.000+01:00

My friend Amory has recently moved abroad, to southern Italy. In a savvy move to meet other expats, a rare breed in Puglia, she accepted an invitation to join a book club formed by local American wives. After attending one meeting, she was summarily informed that in fact, there had been a mistake and the club was actually “closed” and no longer accepting new members. Mind you, there’s only 5 people in this book club. What the f***?
This sort of childish behaviour really aggravates me. Obviously, these boring women who apparently never graduated out of junior high school social interaction and would probably fail miserably on “Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?” were intimidated by Amory’s acute intelligence, comely youthfulness and general coolness. But to make things worse, Amory described the one meeting she attended. They talked a little about urinary tract infections but then concentrated on the book, with nothing stronger than coffee on offer. My mind was blown:
What’s the point of a book club if you don’t drink wine and talk about sex?
After 39 years of life, I am still frequently bewildered by the comportment of American adults.

Meanwhile, for all of you might not be in a book club, here’s what I’m recommending this week:

For reading in French: L’élégance du hérisson by Muriel Barbery. Sadly for the English-only crowd, this has not yet been translated, and that will be a daunting task to try to convey the brilliance, poetry and charm of this delightful, moving, beautiful, simultaneously funny and sad book. Muchas gracias to Lisa B for loaning it and recommending it to me. Barbery's first novel, La Gourmandise, which *has* been translated into 12 languages but not yet English as far as I can find on the web, is now on its way to me as I write thanks to Amazon.

For reading in English: Interpreter of maladies, stories by Jhumpa Lahiri. A collection of short stories that once I started, I couldn’t put down, staying up til 3 am to finish. I can’t recall if a short story has ever moved me to tears before, but one of her gems did. I can’t wait to buy her follow-up novel The Namesake.

2007-10-25T23:04:00.000+02:00

In my experience, children are a lot like cats. They are irresistibly drawn to people who are utterly allergic to them; they are wholly unpredictable, can smother you with boundless affection and then suddenly, inexplicably no longer be aware you exist. And of course, they are thoroughly lovable despite their flaws.
For reasons altogether unfathomable to me, children have become drawn to me over the past 5 years. I cannot think of a single child below the age of 7 that I met in my recent past who didn’t immediately take to me. While completely bewildered and surprised by this, I am also very flattered and humbled. I have no explanation for this curious phenomenon. And I hope I’m not jinxing myself by speaking of it!
My latest fan is Clémence, 21 months, the daughter of my friends Stéphane and Delphine. They stopped by the house unexpectedly last weekend for a short visit (Stéphane’s family lives in nearby Cluny). Clémence was a hoot. And in one of those child/cat parallels, as soon as her dad wanted to take a photo of us together (she insisted the only suitable place for her to sit during the entire visit was right next to me) her finger was glued to her nose, much to her lovely parents’ chagrin. I of course found it hilarious and consider Clémence to be something of a kindred spirit.
Sadly in the photos her beautiful blue eyes came out demon-red and the red-eye reduction filter couldn’t do a lot to help. Still, I found them worth sharing for the laugh. Note that she is an ambidextrous picker!

Falling

2007-10-19T09:46:00.000+02:00

The vineyards have turned into a vast palette of reds, oranges and golds, the Charolais fields remain vibrant green and the glorious sunshine in the azure sky has a special autumn glow that I’ve never seen anywhere else. I think it is safe to say that October is my favourite time of year in the Saône et Loire.
It’s been a long time since I posted anything here, my absence stemming from a variety of reasons, mostly a lack of time and a sort of paralysis of the soul. After Sheba died, I went to the US for three weeks and avoided my grief by working tons, injecting money into the US GDP in shopping expeditions, and rafting down the Grand Canyon. Then I escorted my mom and soon-to-be-94 grandmother back to France for a two week visit.
While we all about drove each other batty from a little too much family togetherness, I am so glad they came. Having them here kept me from lying around in bed all day, crying all the time over Sheba’s absence. This huge house seems barren and empty without him. So instead of mourning my devastating loss for days on end, immobilised by the pain, I was running around rearranging furniture, painting, sightseeing, shopping for the house, etc. There was no time for weeping, so I usually got some in at night when I went to bed. Every time I realise that I will never see him again, the pain is crippling. It still seems unreal to me. Thanks to all of you who have written with their condolences and support, which has been wonderful. And I want to extend special thanks to my mom and grandmother for putting up with my bouts of high tension, which they may or may not have realised stemmed from me trying to bottle up my grief, a task that often proved too much for me, with my sadness quickly erupting into anger.
Immediately after their departure, my friend Chris (aka CW) and his parents Lloyd and Carla came for a visit. Now that the house was in better shape thanks to all of Mom’s hard work, we were able to enjoy the fabulous weather and do some sightseeing, wine tasting and indulging in delicious meals – the best of Burgundy!
The heating system has been successfully installed and improvements are made to the house every week. I’m still taking reservations for this winter and have no plans for Christmas yet… If the insulation gets installed in time, I would love to have a huge New Year’s bash, so stay tuned…
Meanwhile, some photos to accompany the above text.

Mom and me at her house in Scottsdale

Mom and Gramma at dinner our first night in Paris with Roland.

An image from Jan Brueghel the Elder's Chateau de Mariemont, which although in Belgium, looks exactly like some of the landscape around here. (Photo I took without flash in the Dijon museum)

CW, me, Carla and Lloyd at La Potence.

The church in Juliénas.

Eric Clapton - Tears In Heaven

2007-08-22T09:06:00.001+02:00

2007-08-21T23:12:00.000+02:00

Autumn has arrived early this year, with cooler temperatures and soft rain falling on this late August day. Oddly, the sun is shining despite the nonstop rain. Somehow, this is appropriate.

A very kind young woman vet is on her way to my house to put Sheba to sleep.

For 17 years, he has been my closest companion, and the idea that he will no longer be accompanying the adventure of my life is unbearable to me.
His unique personality, amazing green eyes and bundle of warm love have gotten me through almost two full decades, pretty much my entire adult life. He has been a constant source of joy. Every day he has been waiting for me by the door when I come home, every night he has curled up beside me (or on me, depending on his mood). He is the smartest, most adorable, most affectionate and most beautiful cat I have ever known. To say I will miss him does not even come close to the truth.
My heart is breaking, a part of me is leaving forever.
My grief is boundless.
This is the worst day of my entire life.

Told you so, told you so, told you told you told you so!

2007-08-08T11:29:00.000+02:00

After years of my raving about these wines, finally some experts are also starting to see the light. Unfortunately, this probably means prices will go up!
http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/07/25/arts/trmacon.php?page=1

August already

2007-08-06T15:40:00.000+02:00

Somehow summertime seems to speed by faster out here in the country, since there is always something to be done on the house and garden, in addition to a steady stream of houseguests and the usual July in-pour of work for me, and I can’t believe it’s already August. Right now I am drowning in fruit ‑ free «peche de vigne» (tiny red-fleshed peaches) and «reine-claude» (small, green plums that are very sweet!) for anyone who wants to come and pick them!! I can’t keep up. Even if I knew how to make jam or jelly and pies, there would still be too many, and since I don’t know how to make jam or jelly or pie, and don’t have the time to learn with my current workload, my garden overfloweth. I’ve even had the neighbours come and pick as much as they want (and was rewarded with a lovely reine-claude tarte in exchange!) and given some to my favourite local restaurant, but my fruit trees are like rabbits these days. The unfortunate aspect of this, besides my nagging guilt for wasting good food, is that the garden is buzzing with flies, wasps, ants and bees and other insects looking to benefit from all the spoilage, and walking through the grass is like trying to avoid land mines of rotting fruit instead of the pleasant, calming stroll it once was. There are obviously worse problems in the world, and really, I can’t complain. I’m so happy here that I’m seriously thinking about giving up the Paris apartment soon.

Very soon.
Meanwhile, some of the latest images from life in Cormatin.

Someday surely we will have the technology to upload scents the way we do images and sounds, and then you will be able to drink in the amazing perfume of this rose, or the unmatchably beautiful smell of the freshly rolled haystacks…

Until then, you can just click on the pics for a closer look.

How does your garden grow?

2007-07-11T22:53:00.000+02:00

The most obvious cultural difference between France and the US is the language, and within the language, expressions we use. Although sometimes expressions are surprisingly similar (we say “knock wood” for luck while the French say touch wood ("touche bois")) often they are quite different. Lately it’s been raining cats and dogs, but according to the French, those are ropes falling (“il pleut des cordes”). The expressions can also be a reflection of underlying mentality: Anglo-Saxon positivism is clear in “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” whereas the same Biblical phrase is transformed with a solid dose of French negativity (or in keeping with this entry’s title, contrariness!) into “don’t do to others what you don’t want them to do to you (“ne faites pas à autrui ce que vous ne voudriez pas qu'il vous fît”.)
An expression shared by both languages refers to gardening. In English, you have a “green thumb” although in French, it’s your whole hand that’s green (“la main verte”). I have always joked that I have a “black thumb” but now that I have such a fantastic garden, I hope that is about to change. Just this week I learned how to cut back my rose bushes (according to my gardener, Luis, below the dead blossom you find the first branch that has exactly 5 leaves and you cut just underneath it.) And tonight, I planted my first bushes ever: basil and cilantro. I had them in pots on the balcony but they weren’t doing so hot, so Luis* indicated a good piece of soil, in between the chives (which I didn’t even realize were there until Gardener showed me!) and one stretch of rose bushes, where they might do better. I was quite pleased with myself for digging the holes (I only accidentally killed one earthworm, mea culpa) and putting the herbs in the ground, covering them up with the displaced soil, and then giving them an initial round of water. There is something very fulfilling and life-embracing in such a simple act…
Cross your fingers (croiser les droigts, another identical expression!) that they survive.

*according to CW’s book on etiquette, I’m just supposed to call him “Gardener” but I prefer to switch back and forth.

Meanwhile, some shots to give you an idea of how my garden grows!

As a reminder, you can always click right on the photo to get a closer view !

It's so rare that a news blurb makes me laugh...

2007-07-04T23:39:00.000+02:00

but this one did, so I thought I'd share. My favorite bit is Stone's response.

Iran president rejects Oliver Stone documentary
Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has rejected a proposal by Oscar-winning movie director Oliver Stone (Born on the Fourth of July, Platoon) to make a film about him because Stone is part of the ''Great Satan'' cultural establishment, a semiofficial news agency reported.
''I have been called a lot of things, but never a Great Satan,'' Stone said in a statement. ''I wish the Iranian people well, and only hope their experience with an inept, rigid ideologue president goes better than ours.''
The term the ''Great Satan'' dates back to Iran's late leader, Ayatollah Khomeini, who first called the United States that after the 1979 Islamic Revolution overthrew the country's U.S.-supported shah. (AP)

Back soon

2007-06-28T22:08:00.000+02:00

Gentle readers,

Sorry for my extended absence but I have been busy entertaining houseguests and showing them around my beautiful region. Have you booked your weekend yet? The calendar is filling up fast!
At this point, I might be able to squeeze you in between Halloween and Thanksgiving...
I'm not kidding...

For entertainment, here is my horoscope today. I like it.

It's hard to turn down an offer now, for you can see so much potential wherever you look. A decaying pile of compost appears as soil for a beautiful garden. A relationship that is having problems can still show clear signs of hope. Undying optimism is your main strength, but temper it with enough reality to keep you on track.

Soon to come: a call for boycotting British Airways after their unbelievable incompentency at handling luggage (or should I say their great competency at losing luggage?)

Why we love France

2007-05-28T08:29:00.000+02:00

After what can only be politely termed as a rather hellish first few days in Europe for Mom and Roger, on Sunday we celebrated the arrival of half of their luggage and Mom’s recovery from food poisoning with a four-hour lunch at La Marande, a charming little restaurant just outside Montbellet, which is in between Tournus and Macon (get out your maps, people!)
We began with Kir Royal à la mûre (champagne with blackberry liqueur) and amuse-bouches (mouth entertainment, in this case, an avocado purée soaking in gazpacho dotted with diced cucumber) and went on to shredded crab over guacamole with a few saffron potato slices, accompanied by a local Macon Igé white for mom and me, while Roger opted for a red St Joseph. Mom and I continued on with a fabulous veal loin in a morel mushroom cream sauce (I had to get her a spoon so she could lick up every last drop) while Roger chose duck breast in a sweet pine sauce. He followed up with fromage blanc with cream and sugar, while Mom and I could not resist the temptations of the cheese platter. Gail discovered the delights of Reblochon and Brillat Savarin, but gave her rather masculine Comté to Roger. I selected an assortment of 5 different goat cheeses and a small piece of Reblochon, also one of my favourites. Amazingly, at this point our guts were not exploding, so we gladly dug into the almond-flour cookie flavoured with pistachio, topped with perfectly ripe fresh strawberries and just the right drizzle of dark chocolate, with a side of homemade vanilla ice cream that put Blue Bell to shame. Thankfully, Roger captured the moment here (that's a sugar-crusted rose petal on top of the ice cream).

With our espressos, we finished off with some home-made chocolate, candied apricot and a sugar-coated Marc de Bourgogne bomb, literally an explosion of liqueur wrapped in sugar.
Here we are at our arrival at 12:15, several pounds lighter than our departure at 4:00 pm.

We did not mind that, for the first time since their arrival, the weather was not perfect. We stopped off on the way home to admire the Roman church in Uchizy and the cold front on the horizon.

Remember, you can always click directly on the photos for a close-up and improved view. A description of the aforementioned hellish first few days to follow, once our digestion is complete.

Everything's coming up roses

2007-05-15T16:11:00.000+02:00

I wish that I had a voice like Ethel Merman and could belt it out from my terrace to the probable horror and dismay of my neighbours… You know, her revered performance from Gypsy, which you can find here: http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=11:0ifwxqw5ldhe~T3
(just select “Everything’s coming up roses” then you can let it rip and continue reading at the same time!)
Indeed, Sheba and I are now enjoying a beautiful canopy of roses that are perfuming my office today (see close-up), and more are on the way elsewhere in the garden.
I currently have numerous blog texts in mind:

The Madame Butterfly Manifesto inspired by my unforgettable visit to the Dijon opera this past Sunday and the heart-wrenching lead performance by Marie-Paule Dotti, with a fantastic seat enjoyed for free thanks to my friend, opera singer Eric Demarteau;
The Quest for the Perfect Paris Brest (it’s a pastry, people, so get your mind out of the gutter!) most of the detailed research for which, hélas, was lost when my old laptop died, although it is still visible on my hips and thighs…
A worshipful tribute to food writer Jeffrey Steingarten and an equally reverential homage to Down With Love…

But unfortunately, due to the colossal amounts of the estimates mentioned in Size Does Matter, I’m having to work my poor fingers to the bone right now instead of regaling you with attempts at wit, irony or even accolades.
In the immortal words of Arnold S, however: I’ll be back.

Un gars et une fille, the update

2007-05-04T20:59:00.000+02:00

On my old posting about this perfect mise en bouche of a show, I provided a link to see one episode. Unfortunately, that video has been pulled.
The good news is that you can go to this site and see NUMEROUS episodes!!
Enjoy.
http://www.dailymotion.com/videos/relevance/search/Un+gars+et+une+fille/1

Size does matter

2007-05-01T09:17:00.000+02:00

The other day on the phone with Emmanuelle (have you checked out her new blog yet? I’m so proud of my formerly computer-backward friend! bravo! see links on the left) I was bitching about the first estimate I received for work on the house when I had a huge revelation, so to speak.
The background: I need to have the attics insulated, because when the previous owners put on the new roof a few years ago, for some strange reason they didn’t insulate. So, the past couple of weeks have been a blur of various strange men coming into my house (spare me your droll remarks, s’il vous plaît), taking measurements, and then sending me exorbitant estimates for work that as far as I am concerned, they will never perform, given their inflated sums. A text on the sexism problem in France might be soon to follow…! But back to the big story:
Besides the insulation, central heat also needs to be installed, and some of the windows need to be changed. Out of these tasks, I do believe that putting in insulation is by far the easiest of the three. So when I got the estimate, for close to 7,000 euros*, I was blown away. 7,000 euros for basically unrolling fibreglass and stapling it to the rafters. What fool couldn’t do that? And what fool would pay that much money for such simple work?
But here’s the crux of the problem: they bill for this by square meter of course, counting the supply of insulation and the labour together. And I have 166 square meters of attic to insulate. This estimate is what finally drove home the realisation of the enormity of my abode (or should I say my folly?). The official living space according to French law is 220 square meters. This does *not* count the two attics, which are perfectly suitable for living space, once they are insulated and fixed up a bit (nor the three cellars, but they are only good for housing the water heater, garden equipment, firewood and hundreds of bottles of wine…). This means that I have purchased almost 400 square meters* to live in, by myself, with my cat.
Even by Texan standards (and we all know that everything is bigger in Texas ;) this is a ridiculously large house for one person and a very old and rather petit cat (runt is not in our Sheba vocabulary).
What are we possibly going to do with all this space? Fill it up with a herd of dromedaries? Put in an ice-skating rink? (I haven’t mentioned the downside to having a marble floor yet… let all upcoming visitors be warned: bring a sweater. Yes, even if you are coming in June.)
Stay tuned to find out.

*For the conversion phobic:
400 square meters = approximately 4,300 square feet
€7,000 is over $9,500

Le Printemps

2007-04-25T08:45:00.000+02:00

I got here just in time to see all the trees in bloom. I wish I had the time to stop and take pictures of everything that is beautiful here, but that would require becoming a full-time photographer, and risking car wrecks every 15 minutes or so when pulling over to the side of the road suddenly to capture the magnificent scenery.

I love the small park that runs behind my house (see previous post from when I made the offer to buy) and here's another reason why.

A place to stay in Paris

2007-04-21T11:28:00.000+02:00

Although before the end of the year I hope to be able to offer my Parisian pad to out-of-towners, for now it is not nearly in good enough shape to do so. However, a friend of mine is offering her cute abode for minimum stays of 3 nights or longer. She's listed on the following website, but if you go through me, you get a significant discount (€100/night - €500/week - €2000/month).
Check it out!
http://www.ahparis.com/photos.asp?lang=en&pageno=1&a_id=283&id_apt=283

Scenes from my backyard

2007-04-16T07:06:00.000+02:00

Moving, as they say, is one of the most stressful events in any person's life. I'm not going to tell you any different. Buying a house has been wonderful and terribly scary, exciting and exhausting, overwhelming in both good and bad ways. Thus far, the good outweighs the bad, and I'm thankful for that. I'm too worn out to write much more, but I wanted to share some photos of my backyard when I arrived last Wednesday, and then this week's image of Sheba basking in the sun. He has adjusted to the new home better than I could have ever expected. Not bad for a cat of 17!
Please come and visit us soon...

Another good reason to get a dog

2007-03-29T20:24:00.000+02:00

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/H/HEIMLICH_HOUND?SITE=KVUE&TEMPLATE=STRANGEHEADS.html&SECTION=HOME

Berber Humour

2007-03-19T11:39:00.000+01:00

First of all, let’s get one thing straight: they are dromedaries, not camels!! According to our guides, there are no camels in Morocco.

After a whirlwind few days in Marrakech, a city I loved the moment I stepped off the plane, Lisa Smith and I ventured forth into the south of Morocco, on a quest to see the desert. After almost two full days of non-stop driving with our guide Abdelilah (mind you, the speed limit on the two-lane national highways is just 90 km/hour and Abdelilah followed it faithfully… a little too faithfully for my taste, but that’s why they call me Leadfoot…)

Anyhoo, after the very long car ride south, across the snow-capped Atlas Mountains, into the Dades gorges and the oasis valleys, we arrived at Merzouga, gateway to the Moroccan Sahara.
We immediately leapt onto our trusty dromedaries, Jimmy and Malé, and sped off into the sunset over the dunes. Or sort of.
Anyone who thinks that riding a dromedary is similar to riding a horse is sadly mistaken. The beasts lurch along at a very uncomfortable rhythm, guaranteed to chafe you the most in spots where you have never been chafed before. Mind you, there’s no saddle, just woolen blankets seemingly woven with desert thorns thrown over some sort of metal frame. My inner thighs and buttocks are still complaining and I’ve been off the dromedary for a good four days now… I don’t know if I’ll ever walk the same again. Plus, sand does not make for an easy trail (hence the lurching). You are often going up a dune or down a dune and especially on the downward stretches, you feel like you’re going to pitch forward head first over your dromedary and into the sand. I held on for dear life, grimacing and wincing over the pain in my butt, occasionally crying out in a sound not unlike that the dromedaries make, which was surely the inspiration for Chewbacca’s voice in Star Wars.

We were led by our very own nomad, Omar. Omar is from a long line of nomads, and grew up in the Sahara. Thanks to his work in tourism, his family now lives in a house in Merzouga instead of wandering around aimlessly in the desert.

We arrived at our tents well after nightfall, tired, cold, sore, stiff and hungry. We were served mint tea (surprise, surprise). In Morocco, every event calls for mint tea. I love mint tea (see my earlier post from September 06 when my wonderful friend Judy likened it to hot chocolate without the chocolate) but I’m pretty much all mint-tea’d out for a while after consuming it several times a day, every day, for 8 days straight.
Omar surprised us by cooking up a fantastically delicious tagine all by himself (normally in Morocco, cooking is women’s work) which we then consumed using only our right hands. (Ok, well I cheated and sometimes used my left hand, but I don’t think anyone noticed.) For those of you wondering why you’re supposed to use only your right hand, let’s get something straight: this is the third world.
Charmin doesn’t exist in the third world.
Your left hand exists in the third world.
Nuff said.

After sating ourselves on this fabulous repast, Omar built a fire out in the sand and we gathered around to gaze at the mind-boggling amount of stars, warm ourselves by the fire (it was extremely cold) and meet Omar’s nomad friend Hahmed, who just happened by on his way to deliver 4 dromedaries somewhere. They got out their drums and treated us to authentic Berber music, explained the Berber ways and languages to us, and regaled us with stories of navigating at night in the summer when it’s too hot to travel by day, using only the stars and their expert knowledge of the desert to find their way.
When the fire had settled down to softly glowing embers, the echo of the drums had faded, and we were contemplating the stars in the deep and philosophical silence available only in the desert far, far from the farthest reaches of civilization, with each person lost in his or her own inner world, Hahmed suddenly piped up “So, do you know any good jokes?”

After recovering from our laughter and surprise, we realized that none of us had any good ones to tell (there were four of us tourists, Lisa and myself and a young British couple) so Hahmed launched into his comedy routine.

“How do you get a dromedary in the fridge?”
We pondered this for a while, proffered up some lame responses, then finally gave up.

“You open the door, put him in, and then close the door.”

Berber humor.

Then he launched into one that wasn’t really a joke, but more of a riddle, one of those “Three people come to a river to cross it. One person sees and touches the water. The second person sees the water but can’t touch it. The third person neither sees nor touches the water. Who are these three people?”

Of course, it’s a pregnant woman carrying a child on her back. It took us a while, but we figured that one out.

Then he came up with one which we couldn’t tell if it was a riddle or a joke.
The lion, king of the jungle and all the wilderness, decides to hold a party to end all parties. A magnificent feast, where none of the animals would eat each other, but all would be vegetarian for this extremely special occasion. The entire animal kingdom is invited, every species, in a kind of Noah’s ark rave.
Only one animal doesn’t come.
Which one is it, and why?

Again we racked our brains, guessing madly, but none of our answers came close apparently, until I shouted out “the dromedary!” and Hahmed seemed rather impressed. Yes, the dromedary was the only animal who didn’t attend the lion’s celebration. But why?

More guessing, to no avail.

The fire had almost died out at this point, and we were freezing and sleepy, so Hahmed finally took pity on us.

“Because he’s in the refrigerator.”

Four Seasons in One Day

2007-03-18T22:42:00.000+01:00

With a nod to Crowded House for the title, I have to say that visiting Morocco, I did experience four seasons in one day, or rather over a couple of days in a row... what a place of contrasts, a fascinating mix of ancient and modern, hot and cold, clean and dirty... my mind is still reeling, but I loved it.

While I recover from my return journey and scramble to get ready for my Burgundy trip this week to finalise the purchase of my house, I'll leave you with a couple of images to contemplate.

Bali High, part 2

2007-02-28T09:46:00.000+01:00

In keeping with its volcanic origins, Bali was a real explosion of discovery for Emmanuelle and me. An explosion of colour, with luxuriant, seemingly bursting-out-of-their-skin greens that have to be seen to be believed; intensely flaming orange, pink and red tropical flowers, not to mention the pristine white of jasmine and the ever-present frangipani; an explosion of taste, with the spicy and delicious local cuisine; an explosion of heat and rain, with downpours the likes of which I haven’t seen since I lived in Texas, ditto for the sometimes oppressive sunshine and humidity.

No bomb explosions however. Contrary to the fears of some of my nearest and dearest, Bali is an incredibly peaceful island, being 93% Hindu. Gorgeous Hindu temples are everywhere, since every home and every village has one. The Balinese people are adorable, very charming and friendly, and amazingly, they all speak English beautifully.

There was a lot of sensory overload.
Such as being pampered to death in the fabulous five-star hotels where we stayed. Of the three, Alila Ubud was the best overall in terms of setting, décor, amenities, service, spa and most importantly, food and wine!! Although the private pool, personal butler, and vast living space at the Balé were hard to beat… you can check out all three hotels using the links in my last post.

Now it’s back to reality, as I fly to France tonight. I have a short 9 days back in Paris before I take off again on my next trip: 8 days in Morocco!! Life as a freelancer is rough.
After that, I drive down to the Saône et Loire to sign the final purchase papers and pick up the keys to my new house on March 22… stay tuned!!

Bali High

2007-02-22T08:21:00.000+01:00

Where we've been so far this week:
www.alilahotels.com
Check out the Ubud and Manggis locations (3 nights each)

Tomorrow we head to a new level of luxury:
www.thebale.com

We'll be back in Singapore Monday.

Some enchanted evening

2007-02-19T15:06:00.000+01:00

In preparation for my next post, which has not even been started yet, some music to put you in the mood... think Mary Martin, Ezio Pinza and the fabulous Rodgers & Hammerstein musical "South Pacific"...

Most people live on a lonely island

Lost in the middle of a foggy sea

Most people long for another island

One where they know they will like to be

Bali Ha'i may call you

Any night, any day,

In your heart, you'll hear it call you:

"Come away...Come away."

Bali Ha'i will whisper

In the wind of the sea:

"Here am I, your special island!

Come to me, come to me!"

Your own special hopes

Your own special dreams

Bloom on the hillside

And shine in the streams

If you try, you'll find me

Where the sky meets the sea.

"Here am I your special island

Come to me, Come to me."

Bali Ha'i

Bali Ha'i!

Someday you'll see me floatin' in the sunshine

My head stickin' out from a low flying cloud

You'll hear me call you

Singin' through the sunshine

Sweet and clear as can be:

"Come to me, here am I, come to me."

If you try, you'll find me

Where the sky meets the sea.

"Here am I your special island

Come to me, Come to me."

Bali Ha'i

Bali Ha'i!

Dell Hell or La vie n'est pas une longue fleuve tranquille

2007-01-28T16:05:00.000+01:00

Please, learn from my mistakes. Stop whatever you’re doing (probably the only time I’ll ever ask anyone to stop reading my blog) and get out your external hard drive and back up EVERYTHING right now. If you don’t own an external hard drive, go immediately to your favorite online or brick-and-mortar store and buy one. Then, BACK UP EVERYTHING. And do it often.

2007 has gotten off to a hellish start. But I like to take the optimist’s view and imagine that since I’m accumulating all these catastrophes in January, the rest of the year is going to be smooth sailing.

Cross my fingers, knock wood, etc.

I’ll spare you all the gory details, because not only are they depressing but they are so over-the-top as to be unbelievable. I’ll try to stick just to the barebones facts.

Some of the shitty things that have happened to me since my last posting:

1) I rebroke up with Jerome. Of course, many of you didn’t even know that things were back on with Jerome, which is just as well. But they were for a short period, but then I had to put an end to it again. And whatever your stance on this relationship is or has been, know that it’s been the hardest break-up of my life and the mourning period is not over yet. So that’s a real load to deal with already.
2) I fell and hurt both my knees. In some sort of dim-witted rush move, I managed to entwine myself in my luggage at the Gare de Lyon and fall hard onto the pavement, ripping my pants, opening up one knee and badly bruising both. Of course this happened at 7:25 am as I’m trying to catch the 7:30 train…
3) Somehow that fall appears to have affected my laptop, safely ensconced in my backpack, which although it did not hit the ground, apparently smacked hard enough against my person to kill the hard drive. And when I say kill, I mean that my hard drive died a horrible death. The noises it made when I tried to get my computer to work remind me of descriptions I’ve read of pigs being led to slaughter.
4) Because of point 1, I hadn’t done a full back-up of my laptop in several months. I know, stupid, stupid, stupid. But every time I thought of getting out the external hard drive, it made me think of Jerome, the computer fanatic, who made me buy this external hard drive and even wrote a personalized macro for me so that the back-ups would go as quickly and painlessly as possible. And of course, that made me sad.
So I kept putting it off.
If I had known how sad I would be when I learned that nothing was recoverable on my hard drive, I would much rather have had a little heartbreak backing up my hard drive every night compared to this disaster of huge personal and professional proportions.
HAVE YOU MADE THAT BACK-UP YET?
Imagine losing everything, everything. Your emails, your documents, your taxes, your photos, your amusing blog texts in preparation, everything...
Now make that back-up and you don’t even have to thank me for it.
5) I had to go through an entire week of angry phone calls, emails and online exchanges to get any satisfaction from Dell despite having a valid 3-year “Complete Care” contract with them. Now that I have gotten full satisfaction from them, I won’t go on an anti-Dell rant like I was planning to for several days. Although the next time I need a new laptop, I think I’ll take a long, hard look at Hewlett Packard…
6) I got the worst, most wicked case of food poisoning ever, causing me to vomit in the metro and then all night long chez moi. Nuff said.

Of course, all of this happened during the busiest month for work that I’ve had in ages. While normally lots of work is good news, the timing couldn’t have been worse, and I’ve had to scramble like crazy to not piss off my regular clients completely.
And, various other little emmerdes have cropped each week as well, making this by far the nastiest January I’ve ever had.
But, I reiterate my positivism and remain hopeful that things can only get better...
Pray for me.
And back up your hard drive now!!!

Peace on earth, goodwill toward men...

2007-01-01T10:54:00.000+01:00

and of course, Happy New Year!!
This morning, my 2007 horoscope says the following:

This is the year that you have been waiting for as your key planet, Jupiter, makes its once-every-twelve-years return to your sun sign, bestowing grace and opportunity onto your life.
As the Archer, you aim your arrows of intent high; your targets are often far in the distance. Now you can see even further, and your power is even stronger. Jupiter's influence works like a magnifying lens by making your life even bigger. But you like grandiosity, so this will feel quite comfortable, even familiar.
There are other planetary influences this year, but jovial Jupiter in your sign -- from Nov. 23, 2006, until Dec. 18, 2007 -- will likely be the most obvious and should provide a fortunate underpinning for a very successful year. Jupiter was last in your sign in 1995, which may have been the beginning of the opportunity cycle that is currently coming to a close.
You see good news now everywhere you turn...

I love Paris in the winter, when it drizzles

2006-12-21T09:50:00.000+01:00

With all due respect to Cole Porter, it hasn't drizzled much this winter. Although winter was long in coming (when I returned from Austin on November 30, it was actually warmer in Paris than in Texas!!) now it has arrived in the best possible way. Near-freezing temperatures are made bearable by brilliant sunshine and little humidity. The sunsets have been incredible. And, they finally changed the Christmas lights on the rue du Commerce. Life is beautiful.

Musical interlude number 2

2006-12-10T11:51:00.000+01:00

What I'm listening to today, from Lyle Lovett's Joshua Judges Ruth
It could just be my anthem for the New Year. ;-)

Thank you my friend

I sincerely appreciate the words you say

About how she'll cry

And how she'll grieve and miss me

When she goes away

Say them again

I need to hear the words once more

I can't believe

How she'll miss me when she's gone

And how she'll want to come back home

And never leave

But she's leaving me

Because she really wants to

And she'll be happy when she's gone

She'll be happy

She'll be so very happy

She'll dance and sing

Or even learn to fly

And spend her time with anyone but me

What's that you say

That I'll get over her the more that time goes by

But time goes so slow

When all I have to do is sit around and cry

No she won't be back

I'd be a fool to try to fool myself that way

I know she hasn't one regret

Because she hasn't had one since

The day she came to stay

She's leaving me

Because she really wants to

And she'll be happy when she's gone

She'll be happy

She'll be so very happy

She'll dance and sing

And even learn to fly

And spend her time with anyone but me

She'll be happy when she's gone

Un gars et une fille

2006-12-04T07:23:00.000+01:00

I am often quite hard on the French for their terrible taste in music and their even more abominable taste in television. However, from time to time they do surprise me, and I discover a French pop artist that does not make me want to retch or I’ll get hooked into a show unexpectedly. One such case stands out from the rest, and I have to give credit where credit is due: French TV for several years was home to the perfect TV series: Un gars et une fille (A guy and a girl). (NB: upon doing some research for accuracy, I discovered that this show was in fact originally from Quebec and it has since been adapted across the globe, soon to be available for US viewers as “Love Bites”.)
Sadly, this gem is no longer on here, although from time to time there are reruns and I am lucky enough to own one of the “Best of” DVDs.
Here is the genius: every weekday evening, just before the news came on, you could catch Jean Dujardin (this is the show that launched his now brilliant career) and Alexandra Lamy playing “Jean” and “Alexandra” or Loulou and Chouchou as they affectionately called each other. Each episode lasted no longer than 7 minutes. Ah, the ideal espresso dose of television comedy. (Note that in Canada, the running time was the sitcom standard 26 minutes.)
Situation comedy living up to the name. Realistic, hilarious, charming ‑ I don’t think there’s a single episode where I didn’t laugh out loud at least once, if not about every minute or so. There’s never a chance to become bored, they never go too far, thanks to the mini-format. For me, 7 minutes of TV, 5 days a week is about the best possible maximum media exposure.
The chemistry between the two actors is explosive. I once read an interview where Jean and Alex described that while they were standing in line for the show’s casting auditions, they had a professional “coup de foudre” (love at first sight for the non-Francophones) which became clear to the producers immediately, hence their hiring. Interestingly enough, after 3 years of playing the world’s funniest lovers, the two ended up leaving their respective spouses/partners and moving in with each other, the coup de foudre having apparently evolved onto a more personal level. They do make a great couple, although there have been recent rumors of a split, especially since Jean’s career has skyrocketed (Brice de Nice, OSS 117 among others) while Alex’s has stagnated. He was clearly the key talent of the show anyway, and she was frequently rather annoying (hard to tell if it was the role or reality…).

Luckily for those of you who never had the chance to take in this pearl, another big fan has put some clips on their blog (scroll down to the photo of Alexandra Lamy and you'll see a still photo from the show underneath. Just hit the play arrow in the middle for a tasty treat!):
http://radiomikado.blog50.com/archive/2006/10/12/radiomikado-bonjour-14-octobre2006.html

Happy birthday to us

2006-11-29T06:13:00.000+01:00

Tonight I pre-celebrated my latest 30-something/
almost 40th birthday with many of my pals in Austin. Amory, Emily and I realized that we have known each other for over 20 years now.
We all agreed that none of us look 20 years older than when we first met.
That's the great thing about true friends, they don't see your wrinkles or cellulite or sags...

Austin Interlude

2006-11-21T15:25:00.000+01:00

Since my arrival last Wednesday, the weather has been picture perfect. I have yet to see a cloud. I am basically in a TexMex frenzy, eating WAY too much to compensate for 12 months without it, so I get in as many walks as I can. Sunday, I took my mom, my dad and his wife June to Town Lake for one such walk.

Cormatin

2006-11-13T21:57:00.000+01:00

Today I bought my first house.

The simplicity of that sentence covers up the dazzling firework display that is currently going on inside my brain.
To say that I am thrilled is a sore understatement.
Really, words cannot do this situation justice.
Instead, I'll just share a few photos taken in my village this weekend.
Taken at sunset in the park that runs behind my house.

Back in Burgundy

2006-10-31T21:40:00.000+01:00

This week, despite appearances from these photos, the weather has been almost perfect. The problem is that I’m only at the gîte early in the morning or just before sunset, the 2 times of day when there’s either fog or clouds… both of which have burned off to make for gorgeous autumn days in this region I ADORE.
Tomorrow Urmi, Jamie and Jaya arrive and I’m going to show them around my future home.
More soon!
(These are views from the living room and terrace of the gîte we rented for a week. The castle is called Berzé le Chatel. As always, I recommend clicking directly on the pictures to get a better image.)

La littérature française

2006-10-24T18:03:00.000+02:00

Between the crazy hectic pace that my life has been lately, what with breaking up with my boyfriend, hosting 3 houseguests, running around Burgundy tasting wines and house-shopping, buying my first house, and being swamped with a record workload, I somehow managed to read a book. And what a book! I loved it. For those of you who enjoy reading in French, I have to recommend it: Je voudrais que quelqu’un m’attende quelque part by the amazingly talented (and young and beautiful) Anna Gavalda. Her portraits of the various segments of French society are astonishingly accurate and honest, touching and funny. I loved it, I was sad to see it end, I give it my highest recommendation.
I’ve just bought her hit book Ensemble, c’est tout and can’t wait to start it…
After a quick search on Google, I see that most of her work has been translated into English, but obviously, you should get the original version if you can. (English titles: I wish someone were waiting for me somewhere and oddly, Hunting and Gathering)

La Potence

2006-10-16T18:33:00.000+02:00

Another fabulous meal at La Potence, with their new autumn menu. Universal praise for the gigot d'agneau rôti au thym accompanied by the most delicious grilled veggies ever!! Their wine list still needs some work, but otherwise, this has to be the best rapport qualité/prix in Paris right now.

La Bourgogne

2006-10-08T08:17:00.000+02:00

It’s one of those times when I’m drowning in work, houseguests, househunting and travel commitments so I haven’t updated the blog in a while, my apologies.
Until I get my head above water, here are a few images from last week’s jaunt to Burgundy, where I may have found a house!!! (Cross your fingers and knock wood.) (and click on the picture to get a better view)

While we didn't have as much luck with the weather that we normally do at this time of year, this area is still beautiful and the food and wine make up for the drizzle...

Sean and Jess get special kudos for putting up with the music and inside jokes from the back seat, and Chris (aka CW) deserves a medal for his navigating and patience during the house hunt!!
More soon…

Musical Interlude

2006-09-23T15:38:00.000+02:00

What I’m listening to on this sunny Saturday of Indian Summer:

Teenage Fanclub’s “Ain’t That Enough” (from their album Songs from Northern Britain).

3 minutes and 42 seconds of pure melody and lush harmonies combining to create a pop poem that never leaves me indifferent (dare I say it makes my heart soar?).
For me, a sunrise is quite often enough.

Is British music so good because their food is so bad? Consider their cross-channel rivals, the French, who have taken cuisine to the highest heights, yet their popular music is, to put it politely, unpalatable… obviously no country can be strong in every artistic domain, but could there be some sort of inverse relationship between the ear and the stomach? I welcome your thoughts on this.

Meanwhile, I’ll share the delicious TF lyrics with you, although without the music it’s bit like having a mouth-watering meal put before a man with no nose… although if you click on the title of this post, it will take you to the album on Amazon where you can scroll down and hear a sample.

If you can I wish you would

Only if you feel you should

Bring your loving over

All adds up with circumstance

All stood up with taking stands

Bring your loving over

Highlights glisten

Silence listens

Days that found you

Embrace that found you

Here is a sunrise Ain’t that enough?

True as a clear sky, ain't that enough?

Toy town feelings here to remind you

Summers in the city do what you gotta do

Time can only make demands

Fill it up with grains of sand

Bring your loving over

Highlights glisten

Silence listens

Days that found you

Embrace that found you

Here is a sunrise Ain’t that enough?

True as a clear sky, ain't that enough?

Toy town feelings here to remind you

Summers in the city do what you gotta do

Toy town feelings whose gonna argue

Summers in the city Summers in the city

Tribute to La Nonna

2006-09-12T09:02:00.000+02:00

My grandmother is a real inspiration. How many ninety-two and a half year-olds do you know that would be willing to hop on a plane and fly from Southern California all the way to Italy to spend two weeks touring Tuscany? She is simply amazing.
Not only does she keep up with the rest of us almost effortlessly, but she does it with grace, elegance and aplomb. She never complains, never seems tired, and is always game for what’s next.
We’re already talking about our next globe-trotting adventure for the spring of 2007 (when she’ll be a cool 93½!)
Bravo la nonna!

Perfect end to perfect holiday

2006-09-11T06:11:00.000+02:00

Although admittedly I am a teensy bit nervous about the fact that the ladies are flying back to the US (via London) on September 11, I'm trying to persuade myself that the new security measures mean that they are perfectly safe (and the fairy card answers to Judy's question Saturday at the Pisa airport prove it! long story/inside joke).
Our Tuscan dream wrapped up with 2 days in Paris, and the balmy weather followed us back here (see the gals in front of the Eiffel Tower, where we walked after stuffing ourselves on croissants and pain au chocolat).
We ended this perfect vacation with an impeccable meal at my new favorite restaurant (conveniently located just around the corner from chez moi!!) La Potence (78, rue de la Croix Nivert and tell them Catherine the American sent you). Their fixed price menu at €24.90 is the bargain of the century. I thought that Mom might actually pick up her plate and lick it she loved her foie-gras coated steak so much.
We were lucky enough to have Emmanuelle join us and spend some precious time with her before she takes off to Singapore.

Scenes from an Italian holiday

2006-09-08T23:34:00.000+02:00

On the Arno

Judy at the spa

Kiss the cook!

Mom in Montecatini

O the posh, posh travelling life...

2006-09-08T16:33:00.000+02:00

the travelling life for me...!! (if you're scratching your head wondering what that's in reference to, I invite you to screen the children's classic Chitty Chitty Bang Bang to refresh your memory.)

I know it seems overly decadent to be thinking about my next big vacation while I'm still on one, but I'm so excited that I just have to share the news!! Check out Alila's hotels in Bali and know that Emmanuelle and I will be lounging around them over 9 sumptuous nights in February after I visit her in Singapore... www.alilahotels.com

What a way to ring in the Chinese New Year!!!!

Putting the Terme in Montecatini Terme

2006-09-07T08:41:00.000+02:00

Today is our day for treatments at the spa (see photo). We all need a good day of RnR, but no one more than Mom, who deserves great congratulations and deep bows for the extremely difficult job of chauffeuring us around Italy in our ridiculously oversized car. The lanes here are unsettlingly narrow, and all of the freeways we were on suffered from congestion, especially from gigantic trucks and 18-wheelers. Neighboring vehicles like that already make me nervous even in Texas, the land of extra-wide highways and endless visibility, so Mom’s sang-froid and constancy (and velocity!) were impressive in a country that never felt the need to make high-speed thoroughfares in straight lines and where I would only feel comfortable in one of those silly little Fiats that looks like it belongs to a clown troupe so that I could potentially put my arm out the window and not touch the car in the lane next to me…
Hats off to Mamma mia!! (from driving here so much she’s becoming rather Italian by osmosis, boosted by her purchase of beautiful hand-made sandals in Assisi and the massive quantities of pasta we down every day).
Another post to follow our steams, scrubs, massages and facials, meanwhile a few more pics to give you insight into our life under the Tuscan sun…

Pics to go with previous post

2006-09-06T09:01:00.000+02:00

I'm taking advantage of the Chocohotel's fabulous WiFi connection to give you some glimpses into our recent visits. (aside: the Italians pronounce WiFi like in the US "why fie" which seems odd since it should be Wee Fee like the other Latin countries and even Switzerland...)

Here we have lovely Lucca & Serravalle Pistoiese, the beach where we dipped our toes in the water, and St Françis' Basilica in Assisi.

More soon, stay tuned!!

Italian road trip(s)

2006-09-06T06:25:00.000+02:00

After several days of horrid frustration, suddenly I am able to upload photos to the blog again, so there’s some catching up to do!!

Please check out the revised San Miniato post to see a few shots of this magical place. When the trip is over, I’ll be doing a Kodak Gallery photo album so if you’re not already on that mailing list, let me know if you want to be added.

Here’s a brief rundown of what we’ve been up to lately:
Saturday we visited Lucca, which lived up to the guidebooks’ promise as a charmingly beautiful yet sleepy Tuscan town with strangely few tourists given its architectural, cultural and natural splendor.

Sunday was a day of rest, with a brief excursion up the hill from our villa to see a truly undiscovered jewel, Serravalle Pistoiese, a tiny towered village so picturesque as to seem unreal, within less than 10 minutes of our Tuscan home, and not a tourist to be found. We wandered about in awe, taking in the gorgeous sunset, and were treated to a private tour by a delightful 70-year old man (who chattered away in Italian enthusiastically even though I made it clear that I only speak and understand “un po”) of the Oratorio with frescoes from the Giotto school. We managed to communicate the essential though, and it was the perfect way to end the weekend.

Monday was our first “setback” in that we decided to get an early start to head to the coast (I had to work that evening so we needed to be back at a decent hour). For all our previous excursions, we have been preferring the small country roads, which provide breathtaking Tuscan views framed by cypress and lime trees and a glimpse into “real” life as we pass through the smaller towns. Since we had less time Monday, we took the “autostrada” which despite being a modern, toll highway, only has 2 lanes, which were backed up for over an hour due to a horrendous 18-wheeler accident (the only vehicle involved, but burned to a crisp and the driver was helicoptered out…) To top it off, the snail pace was through a horribly polluted industrial area that marred the views of the Apennines in the distance and the Versilia coast to our left. When we finally escaped the mind-numbing traffic jam, it was time for lunch. We had some quick but tasty pasta by the sea, took a short walk to the water, dipped our toes in, then made our way back to the villa, exhausted from the strain.

Tuesday, our bad luck was almost repeated, in that once again we needed to take the autostrada since we were off on a pilgrimage to Assisi to see St Francis. After patting ourselves on the back for making an earlier-than-expected start, we quickly realized the error of our ways as we got stuck in rush-hour traffic heading into Florence (again, only TWO lanes on the major highway!!??!?)
St Frank was apparently with us in spirit though, as we were only delayed about 20 minutes this time and then were able to whisk through the spectacular Chianti countryside into scenic Umbria. We had lunch in Perugia, a town we wish we had more time to visit as it offers so many delights, but we were on a mission!! After we FINALLY made it to Assisi (getting out of Perugia back to the highway proved a more difficult task than our free map from the tourist office could handle) we couldn’t visit anything!! It turns out we just happened to be there the same day as Italian president Giorgio Napolitano was visiting the world conference on religion for peace.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20060904.wrelig0904/BNStory/International/home
For security reasons, only the monks, nuns and lucky holders of press passes and conference attendees could enter the Basilica and other famous sites.
We consoled ourselves with chocolate: I am writing to you now from the Etruscan Chocohotel in Perugia. The entire hotel is decked out in a chocolate theme, they give you a bar of chocolate when you check in, every room is a different chocolate brand (Mom and I are appropriately enough in the Cadbury Fruit & Nut bar!) and in the outstanding restaurant, there is an entire dinner menu based on chocolate… all washed down with a superb local wine.

We’ll be making another go at St Frank today.
Stay tuned for more news from the road and more pictures to be added soon!

San Miniato al Monte

2006-09-02T07:34:00.000+02:00

Yesterday we had a perfect day from start to finish.
After taking the train from Montecatini Terme to Florence, we stopped by Francesco da Firenze on the Via Santo Spirito to pick up my custom fit, hand-sewn sandals (ordered on our previous visit to Florence Tuesday). They are wonderful! Grazie mamma mia!
(photo complete with mosquito bites that have increased in number and ferocity of itching)
Then we wandered over to the Palazzo Vecchio to meet up with Curt, the organist from Judy’s wedding (and formerly of St Barnabas, the church Judy & Mom attend in Scottsdale). Curt has been staying at the Benedictine monastery at San Miniato al Monte, an exquisite example of Romanesque architecture and style. We had a delicious lunch* in Curt’s company before hiking all the way up to the uppermost heights of Florence (bravo Gramma!) for our private guided tour provided by the charming and knowledgeable Curt. I literally took 112 pictures. San Miniato is the jewel in Florence’s crown if you ask me.

Next, we attended the monks’ traditional vespers at 5:30 pm with a brief mass. Although we weren’t always sure when to stand or sit, we did manage to follow the service in Latin pretty well (Curt had provided us with written copies). As always, I was amazed by the similarities between the Episcopal church service and Catholic mass.

The monk leading the vespers (in town for the Gregorian chant conference this weekend) had a heavenly voice (pun intended).
Then we were in for a real treat: a brief concert by Curt on the freshly tuned organ. DIVINE.

A taxi whisked us back down the hillside to Santa Maria Novella, where we only had to wait 2 minutes for our train back to the villa.
Exhausted but satisfied, we skipped a formal sit-down dinner in favor of yoghurts, fruit and grissini (my favorite breadsticks, with my preferred brand being the lightly salted Dal Cesto di Alice, Fagolosi Croccanti e Stuzzicanti).
We are truly fortunate and blessed.

*I started with a carpaccio of swordfish topped with lightly sautéed crunchy carrots and zucchini, followed by pick-up-your-plate-and-lick-it-when-you’re-done-it’s-so-scrumptious maccheroni (which are actually big fat tubes of pasta) in a saffron sauce with fresh asparagus tips. All washed down with a very fine house red.

Formidable foes

2006-08-31T07:37:00.000+02:00

Although when thinking of the world’s current great military forces, Italy does not spring to mind, they actually have a powerful weapon at their disposal, which could wreak havoc on the globe if developed and wielded at large: the mosquito.
Now, as everybody knows, I’m from Texas, and we have HUGE mosquitoes in Texas, as do our neighbors in Louisiana, where you can see t-shirts with the ugly monsters on the front and “State bird” as the caption. But our massive mosquitoes have nothing on the petite yet feisty Tuscan variety. I call them “stealth mosquitoes” because they are incredibly fast and silent. I can be happily cooking in our beautiful kitchen with a view, and the next thing you know, I’ve been attacked, with no warning or time to respond.

You can barely see them they are so swift as they zip, dive and dodge any attempts to reduce their numbers. And compared to the familiar annoying whine of the Lone Star strain, these babies are totally quiet unless they get right up to and practically inside your ear, which they only do when you’re lying down to sleep… even then, they are fierce, as my ankles attest (I sleep with my feet outside the covers).

They also hit below the belt, while I’m working at the computer, and my thighs and knees have paid the price.

The worst is the unbearable, persistent itching that follows. These are venomous little insects! And perhaps patriotic… maybe they read my blog and somehow know that I supported France in the World Cup? In any case, I've only managed to smash 2 in the 5 days we've been here, so they are definitely winning this game.
Innocent travelers, be warned! (As a reminder, you can always click on the photos in this blog to get a closer view.)

A Room with a View

2006-08-30T07:53:00.000+02:00

Here’s a couple of shots of the villa we rented (the view from my room, two sides). They don’t do justice to the gorgeous countryside and immense olive grove (and some fig, pear, plum, & walnut trees...) surrounding the property, which is on top of a hill, with the olive groves sloping directly down, making photography difficult. Our landlords make their own olive oil and charmingly left 2 bottles for us upon our arrival (along with a huge basket of pasta, sauces, snacks, coffee, etc. to get us through the first couple of days).

Judy and Mom have begun a ping-pong tournament. Judy is everyone’s favorite blond and the ideal traveling companion. She is permanently cheerful and enthusiastic, game for anything and a good sport (and as we’ve discovered, a very skilful table tennis player!) Not only does she always have an upbeat attitude, but she also manages to contribute an energetic and positive spin to every situation.

My favorite Judyism thus far on the trip:
On the first night of the trip in Paris, I took the ladies to my local Moroccan restaurant for some excellent couscous and tagines (my current craving being the lamb tagine with onions, prunes and almonds. So tasty that I almost consume even the prune pits and lamb bones…) We finished the meal off with the traditional hot sweetened fresh mint tea, which none of them had ever tasted before. After her first sip, Judy exclaimed in her bright and merry way “It’s like a hot chocolate only without the chocolate.”
How can you not love someone who says this in all seriousness?
Here’s a view of our first excursion to Florence.
More soon.

La Dolce Vita

2006-08-21T14:37:00.000+02:00

I haven’t had much time to blog lately as I’ve been doing some much needed work on my apartment in Paris and gearing up for my two-week trip to Tuscany with my mom, grandmother and our dear friend Judy. Today I bought a fabulous Michelin map of Toscana, Umbria, San Marino, Marche, Lazio and Abruzzo (no. 563 in the Italy regional maps series). I lurv Michelin maps. I looked at 5 or 6 maps from various publishers and there is just no comparison in terms of legibility, aesthetics and what the French charmingly call «convivialité» which despite appearances actually means user-friendliness (in this context).

This is our third year in a row to make a big European excursion with this group. We started back in 2004, renting a house on the border of Provence/Languedoc Roussillon. That was by far the best rental house I’ve ever found and I would have willingly gone back there every year for the rest of my life if the owner hadn’t sold it that same summer (he offered to sell to me since we got along swimmingly, but sadly it was way, way, way out of my budget).

That summer there were 6 of us (my Aunt Lee and another family friend, Jane, shared the enormous 6-bedroom, 4-bath house with us, and we enjoyed drop-in weekend visits from my pals Emmanuelle and Cyndi, and my cousin Dion.) The pool and gardens were gorgeous, and of course we were well situated to roam around and see the sights (very close to the Pont du Gard, Avignon, Arles, Nîmes, etc.)

Last year, Judy, my mom and my grandmother (who is my dad’s mom, btw, and is 92!! a walking advertisement for eating right and getting plenty of exercise with a daily dose of chocolate for good measure…) and I met up in Bilbao, Spain and went on to San Sebastian before heading down to follow the Santiago de Compostela trail. After our pilgrimage, we then headed up to the coast and gradually made our way back to Bilbao. The northwest of Spain is a food-lover’s and tourist-hater’s paradise. We ate fabulously for scandalously little money, gaped at the stunning scenery, slept soundly in the lovely and spotlessly clean accommodations we found quite easily, and basically spent 2 weeks congratulating ourselves on having discovered this gem of a destination that only the Spaniards seem to know about (until I just now ruined it by telling you).

We have great expectations for this year’s journey. We have rented a villa again this time, with a pool, between Florence and Lucca, near Montecatini Terme. I’m looking forward to hearty red wines, soave whites, fruity olive oil, and plenty of sunshine, as the Paris canicule is long gone, having been replaced by late-October-like rain and chilly gray skies. The villa actually has internet access, so stay tuned for a posting direct from la Bella Italia.

I get by with a little help from my friends

2006-08-14T16:29:00.000+02:00

Recently a number of you have sent encouraging and kind words about my blog, and each time it prompts me to reflect upon how lucky I am to know so many interesting, intelligent and wonderful people. I have been so fortunate in my life to encounter a variety of friends from different backgrounds across the globe, with each and every one making a contribution to my enrichment and happiness as a person. I am truly thankful to have developed such a terrific community over the years and honored to call its members my friends. When times are tough as an expat, I often play back a video in my mind of my favorite memories with my loved ones, savoring the images like a fine wine…and realizing that I have truly been blessed over the decades. This never fails to help me get through any adversity.
In a nod to Sandra Bernhard, “Without you, I’m nothing” and in another to the old Bartles and James ads, "Thank you for your support."

Food, glorious food

2006-08-02T11:25:00.000+02:00

Click on these babies to get a close up of the ripe skin, bursting with flavor. You can almost smell them!

I love France because food seasons still exist here. I know when it’s spring because the asparagus and baby veggies have arrived, and summer doesn’t start until the first cherries and melons come up from Provence. When the oysters are as plentiful as the golden delicious apples, I know the temperatures will be dropping soon and bringing plenty of autumn rain. In winter, all the pumpkin soup I could ever desire starts off most meals of hearty stews or tender confit de canard with lots o’ potatoes.
All of these repasts are washed down, of course, with equally seasonal wines. Lighter reds, from the Loire Valley, go best with Spring, while the whites from the Maconnais and rosés of Provence (punctuated by the occasional Vino Verde from Portugal) cool down summer. For fall, the Côtes du Rhone contribute a fond reminder of August sunshine, while Bordeaux warms up the winter with toasty intensity. Luckily, champagne is appropriate and inexpensive year round.

Cheeses are seasonal in a special way in that their individual “personalities” are considered more appropriate at different times of the year. The moist, fresh goat cheese on your salad in June is a far cry from the runny vacherin that you scoop up with a spoon onto hearty bread in December. There are actually peak times of the year for certain cheeses (such as vacherin) depending on the ageing/curing process. However, this is one of the few staples of French cuisine that will truly be delicious all 12 months of the year. And anyone who thinks of themselves as an Epicurean or cheese-lover should follow the appropriate order in consuming the tempting array on their carefully arranged platter!

The culinary cycle is based on what is ripe, what is fresh, what tastes best at this particular point in time. While sometimes I miss the fact that in the US, you can satisfy a craving for anything at any time of year (and even any time of day or night, simply unthinkable here), when you stop and consider that the plums you so desire in January could not possibly have come from anywhere near where you live and therefore were not picked just as they were ripening… they kind of lose their appeal (and moreso when you see the price tag!) There’s a certain charm to limiting oneself to the foods that nature intended us to eat on Her schedule, and the markets and the menus here tend to be an accurate reflection of what is seasonal.
Right now is my favorite part of summer, as the cherries have just made way at my market to juicy nectarines, fresh-cheeked apricots and peaches and plump blueberries. Melons are still readily available, the tomatoes are bursting with flavor and raspberries literally explode on your tongue. I find great delight in the simple cucumber, with a sprinkling of herbs and a liberal dose of fresh feta straight from my local cheese shop.
Another thing I love about the French is that conversations about food and wine can last for hours; gastronomy and the pleasures of the table are among their top priorities, the basics, the crucial elements that make life worth living.
Vive la France et bon appétit !

Picnic 2 2006

2006-07-23T13:12:00.000+02:00

Zeus, Indra, Teshuba, Mother Nature [insert other preferred weather deity here] were all with us last night (along with Bacchus, Lakshmi, Vacuna, etc.)

While it poured rain in Montmartre around 7:30 pm, at the Eiffel Tower we were settling in for a gorgeous sunset accompanied by a glass of rosé champagne (my current favorite: Besserat de Bellefon, Cuvée des Moines Brut Rosé, on sale right now at your neighborhood Nicolas for less than 24 euros whereas normally it goes for close to 30).

This picnic wins the record for late finishes: the last 12 of us finally left at almost 3:00 am.
Merci, grazie, thanks to the 40+ guests who came and contributed to the fantastic time had by all!!

The daring dozen that stayed into the wee hours enjoying the first real break in the canicule and the Eiffel Tower at 2 am.

Life is just one big picnic

2006-07-20T19:59:00.000+02:00

I have to admit that I’m rather proud of myself for having come up with the idea of my group picnics back in July 2000. The original one was held to usher in my new career as a freelance translator. I held it on a Saturday afternoon, starting around 3 pm. About 40 people came to help me rejoice in my departure from Cheuvreux, and we drank about 40 bottles of champagne over the course of the 7 ½ hour celebration. (This is not an exaggeration, neither in terms of bubbly consumption nor party duration.)
At that first picnic, I made the error of preparing all the food myself, which detracted somewhat from my enjoyment since it is clearly no small task to provide fresh food for 40 people in an outdoor setting a kilometre from your kitchen. I also made the mistake of scheduling it in the afternoon, when the park cops are still on their beat. First they forced us to move from the Champ de Mars to a tiny nearby park, and later they came back and busted up the very lively (thanks to the aforementioned champagne) croquet game we were playing (under the pretext that “ball games” in the park are against the law because they are bad for the grass… you can have 40 people sitting on blankets crushing the grass, but not a few small metal hoops pushed into it!! whatever. In my tipsy state, I confronted the flics, appealing to their patriotism with the example of the French Resistance, who broke the laws during WWII because the laws were evil and encouraged them to see this law in a similar vein. Needless to say, they did not appreciate my logic and luckily someone separated us before I received a citation).
Over the next few years, I organized another couple of picnics on a smaller scale and in more sober fashion in various Parisian parks or locations, but never on a recurring or formal basis. But the summer of 2003, forever engraved in French memories as “LA canicule” when the thermometer soared to record highs and the elderly dropped like flies, it was too darn hot to stay inside to eat. So, I started picnicking on a regular basis on the Champ de Mars after nightfall, to beat the heat on the surprisingly cool grass. The following summer I decided to share this pleasure with my Parisian friends and acquaintances.
These picnics solve the problem of my not being able to host dinners or parties in my miniscule apartment, and I am so pleased with their rousing success.
Generally, 30 to 60 of us gather around 8:00 pm on the fresh expanse of green near the Eiffel Tower and enjoy the sunset, the twinkling tower lights, and the array of food and drink (although I always provide the basics – plates, cups, forks, knives, napkins, etc. – now I only make enough food to feed around 20 and bring several bottles of wine and water. The guests all contribute some food to share and something to drink, and there’s always more than enough to go around). Sometimes there is good mingling and mixing among the attendees and sometimes everyone stays put in the conversation circle they formed upon arriving. In previous years, we were one of a few bold groups picnicking on the grass (it is of course, strictly forbidden, hence our expulsion to the petit parc in 2000. In the evenings, though, the authorities show great indulgence and tolerance by turning a blind eye if they happen to be present.. at least for now…unfortunately the increasing number of copycats are often not as well behaved as we are and some leave behind masses of litter, which could end up jeopardizing our fun in future summers). Nowadays, I have to arrive extra early to stake out precious space, as by 10 pm there are literally hundreds of picnickers and no more room. (See photos below from the May & August 2005 gatherings)

We often stay until 1 am or so, although there is always a mass exodus around half past midnight for those who need to catch the last metro.
If you happen to be in town this Saturday, July 22, come along and join us!

The Dog Days of Summer

2006-07-19T08:25:00.000+02:00

Thanks to powerful fans in my apartment aimed directly at me at all times, I’m riding out the latest heat wave in France much better than the last great canicule (« la canicule » the word to designate the hottest part of summer, is now used to mean heat wave too). From Wikipedia: “The term itself was coined by the ancient Romans, who called these days caniculares dies (days of the dogs) after the constellation of Canis Major (big dog) within which Sirius (α Canis Majoris) is found. As the hottest and most humid days of summer generally coincided with the period where Sirius rose/set with the sun, they believed that heat from Sirius was increasing the heat of the sun.”
Anyhoo, thus far, this heat wave has been reasonable compared to 2003.
But the folks back home in Texas or Arizona should consider this: today’s forecast calls for a high of 36°C. That’s 96.8°F for those of you not on the metric system. We’ll call it 97° to have a rounded numeral. 97° not counting the humidity or the searing city pavement that continues to reflect heat up into my apartment well past midnight. You may scoff, as temperatures in the Lone Star state or AZ are well above 100°F these days. But here’s the crux of the matter: 97°F and no a/c. The temperature inside my apartment hasn’t gone below 80°F in days (that’s in the middle of the night. Most of the time, it’s about 85°F). And there’s no place to go to escape, as people here are superstitious of drafts (as in airflow, not as in military conscription) and air conditioning, so even in places that you would think would provide relief (movie theatres, shopping malls) you don’t get any (relief that is). The one place that feels good is my grocery store’s refrigerated section, so I’ve been taking my time picking out yoghurt lately.
Think about it. And go give your air conditioning unit (which is probably contributing to global warming and increasing the frequency of these terrible heat waves!!) a big hug.

Cultural Differences, round 2

2006-07-18T20:10:00.000+02:00

How do fairy tales end in English? “And they lived happily ever after.” How do they end in French? “Ils se marièrent et eurent beaucoup d'enfants.” (literal translation: they got married and had lots of kids) Somehow, in my mind, having lots of kids is not necessarily the logical equivalent of living happily ever after... as a translator, this brings up an interesting issue: most of the fairy tales present in US culture were written by Europeans, so it would appear that an English-speaking translator at some point in history made the choice of translating “they got married and had lots of kids” as “and they lived happily ever after.” Why they would do this is an fascinating question, but not one that I’ll go into here and now…

The World Cup Coke commercial that I referred to in a previous post: a cartoon (the French love animation, particularly “BDs” or bandes dessinées, adult “comic books” that are taken very seriously here) where we see a series of various unlikely couples listening to or watching one of France’s games (unlikely, as in a cactus and a balloon, for example). The last of these apparently “mismatched” couples is… a husband and wife… They are lying in bed, watching the game on TV. France scores, and ecstatic, the husband leaps out of bed and starts doing a victory dance in his boxers. He is promptly joined by the wife’s lover, who ‑ unable to contain his enthusiasm ‑ leaps out of the closet, where he apparently has been hiding since hubbie came home. After a brief exchange of “what the hell?” looks, they continue celebrating the goal, dancing around together. Check it out on Coke’s French website; http://secure.coca-cola.fr/index.jsp
Could such a commercial exist in the US? Hello? The company that wanted to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony? That asks us to have a Coke and a smile?
I get into this discussion frequently with the French. Many mistakenly believe that I am saying that there is less infidelity in the US than in France. This is not what I am saying. All I am saying is that I think that infidelity is considered acceptable and “normal” behavior in France. It obviously happens in the US, too, perhaps just as often as in France, but in US culture, cheating is looked down upon and generally condemned. It almost always results in break-ups/divorce. It’s something to be ashamed of, kept taboo, not flaunted and vaunted or simply accepted as the norm as it is here. The only American couple that I have ever heard of surviving infidelity is the Clintons, and I think strident political motivation is the only glue holding that one together. Infidelity is not considered acceptable or routine in the US. I’m not saying this is right or wrong or that Americans are better people. I’m just pointing out my perception of a cultural difference. I can provide numerous examples of how this normalcy/acceptance is portrayed in French culture, especially in advertising... a mind-boggling number of ads where someone is having to sneak out of the house because the legitimate spouse or live-in has returned or one partner is shown covering up their cheating in one form or another… Or how about the name of a leading dry cleaning chain? 5 à Sec. It’s a play on words. A “5 à 7” is a euphemism for having an affair (usually implying a man seeing his mistress right after work, at 5 pm, before heading home to the wife at 7…) Countless more examples exist in garden variety French TV, films and music. Obviously, there are also plenty of movies/books/TV shows in the US that address the issue of infidelity, and songs as well (who doesn’t love “Me and Mrs. Jones”?) but again my point is HOW infidelity is portrayed. Mrs. Jones has to be “extra careful” while Madame Untel wouldn’t necessarily have to exercise the same discretion… This leads to two reasons as to why I say that Jérôme is not typically French (and why I love him so much): 1) fidelity is of utmost importance to him, he has never cheated on anyone and would never tolerate anyone cheating on him; 2) he is the only French person I’ve ever met that hates BDs too.

Blessed be St Georges

2006-07-18T00:27:00.000+02:00

Just got back from what has now become an annual tradition (3 years in a row), my long weekend with Emmanuelle’s family in St Georges de Didonne, a charming little beach town near Royans (just north of Bordeaux).
I adore spending time with Emmanuelle and her family. They could be right out of 1950s television, they are so ideal. Really, one of the healthiest and happiest families I’ve ever met. I wish that everyone I know could have such a loving, generous family. And boy, her mom can cook!!!! (from L to R: Anne-Laure, the youngest, Marie-Christine, Emmanuelle)
My favorite things to do there (not in any particular order, although this list pretty much follows the sequence of each day): 1) take early morning walks on the beach, where there’s only ever a few fisherman, a couple of serious joggers and a scattering of dog-lovers who want to give their pets a swim (normally dogs are not allowed on the beach, sadly…but at this time of day, there’s no one around to spoil their fun and they provide some laugh-out loud moments playing with the waves) and watch the sun come up over the pines.
(You can click on the photo to get a better view of my canine friend.)
2) eat (did I mention that Marie-Christine, Emmanuelle’s mom, is a fabulous cook?). 3) hang out at apéritif and mealtimes with the fun extended family (her aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) 4) ride the bike to the colorful local market to get provisions for yet another unforgettable meal. 5) eat (did I mention that Michel, her dad, also whips up a mouth-watering ratatouille or tapenade in addition to wicked cocktails?) 6) nap after lunch on a lounger in the backyard, under the pines. 7) soak up the sun in the early evening beach sessions, when the crowds have left but it is still hot enough to savor a cool dip in the water. 8) dine on the terrace, with the sun setting over the pines.

9) enjoy the stimulating, always interesting conversation at the table (accompanied by the delicious wines chosen by Michel). 10) read until midnight or so to digest the fantastic meal just consumed and sleep the sound sleep of the vacationing just…to wake up the next morning and start all over again… I’m already looking forward to next summer!!!

Cultural differences

2006-07-10T18:27:00.000+02:00

I’m writing this blog entry on the train from Lausanne to Paris (note to self: next time keep camera at seat to take pictures of gorgeous scenery outside. This train definitely has one of the most beautiful routes I’ve ever traveled. Breathtaking, from bucolic green pastures in Switzerland to the magnificent forests of the Jura to the rolling hills of Burgundy... I highly recommend it.) Besides catching up on my sleep, what has weighed most on my mind during this almost 4-hour trip are the cultural differences between the US and Europe in general, France in particular. Witness my choice of travel: the TGV. It’s clean, it’s fast, it’s on time, it’s so much easier and convenient than flying. (I’m also writing this from 1st class, which in addition to having a socket so that I can actually plug my laptop in, for some crazy reason is picking up a WiFi connection too, although I haven’t been able to actually access the internet from it…) Did I mention how inexpensive this mode of travel is too? For a mere 65 bucks, I’m safely ensconced in an extremely comfy seat and Sheba gets to hang out next to me (in his carrier of course). How much would EasyJet (the European equivalent of Southwest Airlines) charge for an equivalent flight? And how far in advance would I have had to get to the airport, check my bag, line up for the cattle call to get a seat, *no* first class, wait for my bag upon arrival etc. etc. Jérôme and I pulled up to the train station just 20 minutes ahead of my departure and I felt no pressure, no rush, no stress. Smooth sailing, so to speak.
The first time I was living in France in 1991, the French were very proud of the fact that Texas had just decided to purchase some TGVs to improve intrastate travel (the French model having beat out the Japanese and the Germans). The Texas TGV was supposed to link San Antonio, Austin, Dallas and Houston if memory serves… anyhoo, of course Southwest lobbied their asses off (by the way, I don’t have anything against Southwest Airlines; in fact, it’s probably my favorite US airline) and some fools managed to convince the dairy farmers that the vibrations from the high-speed trains would be bad for their cows (I’m sure the thousands of cows I’ve passed on this journey alone would be surprised to hear it.) So, in the end, Texas dropped the TGV.
Another difference over here: the importance of the World Cup. The past few weeks, our evenings have pretty much revolved around nothing else. Yet when I lived in the US, I only have a vague souvenir of anyone ever talking about it. And I *love* soccer. I played for 2 years on the Lucky Shamrocks, undefeated in our district. I have great memories from those games, even though admittedly I myself wasn’t very good. And in high school, our soccer team was way better than our football team (I am of course referring to St Stephen’s, and so there are those who would say, “yes, but that’s private school.” Whatever.)
But back to our main story: Italy's win last night is more bitter than a bad espresso. I have to admit, going into the game, I had my misgivings, considering how poorly France played against Portugal to get into this final. But the truth is, after a somewhat sluggish first half, they DOMINATED that game. They came back from halftime (I could write a whole other entry on cultural differences in sports: notice no cheesey half-time show and NO CHEERLEADERS!! although the Coke ad featuring marital infidelity is yet another key cultural topic… there are some very interesting observations to be made on these points, but this is already an extremely long-winded bit so I’ll spare you that today) and ran all over the Ritals. Somehow, they just couldn’t score though, and thus the tragic ending that you are certainly all aware of by now. But I am really proud of the French team for how they played last night, and that is rare (both my pride in French soccer and their playing). They clearly had their mental game together and combined with their physical talents, they were a sight to behold. They were the better team last night and deserved to win.

Performance anxiety

2006-07-06T10:13:00.000+02:00

Now that I finally made the leap to start a blog, suddenly I feel immense pressure to be entertaining which instantly makes me freeze up and have nothing interesting to say at all…
My idea was that a blog would be a better way to keep in contact with friends and family since I don’t always have the wristpower to email everyone after all the translating typing and since Swisscom is exorbitantly expensive. Although the Swiss brag about the web having been invented here, they are incredibly behind in terms of ADSL/unbundling/free internet phoning etc. so chatting on the phone as much as I’m used to is now out of the question. And, Skype hasn’t caught on everywhere yet for reasons that bewilder me… hello, free calling anywhere in the world!?!? Get yourselves some headsets/mikes people!!!
http://www.skype.com/
So here’s the latest news:
Somehow I twisted my neck/upper back muscles a couple of days ago and am only comfortable lying down flat on my back or standing under a hot shower. This is not fun. I was supposed to go to the animal shelter for the first time yesterday to start my great new volunteer gig of walking homeless dogs (thanks, Mom, for that fantastic idea!) but couldn’t make it because of the pain. I dread that this is what it means to get old: sudden, inexplicable physical problems that hurt like the dickens.
I’m currently od’ing on ibuprofen because the Swiss pharmacists are so uptight (in Paris I could have gone into my local pharmacy, pleaded my case and batted my eyelashes and walked out with prescription-strength painkillers, but here the pharmacist just listened with moderate sympathy and then sold me Advil. A disadvantage of moving out of the most hypochondriac country in the world into one that follows rules like only Germanic peoples can…)
But don’t get me wrong, that is one of the advantages of living here too. There is no crime, people are very respectful of one another (I have only come across 1 piece of dog poop on the sidewalks since February, a refreshing change from France and the crottes partout!) and there is an overwhelming sense of peace and safety that is very relaxing. Although Lausanne isn’t as clean as other Swiss cities I’ve visited, compared to Paris it is spotless.
We just had another fabulous weekend in the Beaujolais with Antoine, and Jérôme’s parents and surrogate father, Gérard, came to BBQ with us and watch France miraculously beat Brazil. The photo is of the chateau where we stayed, one of our absolute favorite gîtes.
I’ll be heading back to Paris next week to make my annual trip with Emmanuelle to her family’s house on the Atlantic coast, a place and people I adore. Then I’ll be in Paris for several weeks in a row, and Jérôme and Antoine will be joining me there on July 29 for a week. I hope to organize another picnic with all my friends while I’m there and do some much-needed work on the apartment, and of course, catch up with all my Parisian pals.
The workers from Ikea are here again to finish putting up our armoires so cross your fingers that they get it right this time! Our love nest here is slowly but surely getting settled in and I hope to be able to receive guests here soon!

The Blog Bandwagon

2006-07-06T09:22:00.000+02:00

For years I refused to get a cell phone because I thought they were totally obnoxious and I was probably the last person in the so-called civilized world to finally succumb to that trend (and of course now, can't imagine my life without my beautiful little Samsung number that I adore) but I didn't have any such a priori about blogs although I never thought I would have one... and now that I'm bored and lonely in Lausanne since I don't know anyone here except Jérôme, it was either this or have a baby...
so welcome to my blog!!