Tongue in Cheek

The Art of Walking Naturally

                

Last night as we headed out to the restaurant to celebrate my daughter's birthday, Sacha leaned close to me and asked, "Mom, whose arm do I take?"

You see in France when you walk along the streets with someone you care for, you often take their arm in yours. Last night as we walked along the streets to the restaurant Sacha was perplexed by etiquette, politeness and what "should" he do given that there were three women... My Belle-Mere (Mother in Law,) Chelsea (the birthday girl,) and me (his insecure Mom.)

French husband was leading the troops, he was marching to his own drum, his hands deep in his pockets talking a mile a minute to Chelsea about politics or something like that. He was a happy lark.

"Sacha, how nice of you to think about whose arm to take! What a lucky love you will have one day! Though it is Chelsea's birthday she seems occupied by Daddy, and besides she is the youngest woman here. I know you are asking this because you do not want me to be alone... but the polite thing to do is take Bonne Maman's (Grandmother's) arm. Always go with age when it is a matter of etiquette."

Sure we could have walked all three arm-in-arm together, but that didn't seem natural. I guess I still harbor some frustration about my Belle Mere, and the three of us walking arm-in-arm was a little more than I could muster.

Sacha went up and took Bonne Maman's arm. They walked along, but I noticed that my Belle Mere was uncomfortable with Sacha's arm holding hers... it seemed that for her it meant she needed someone to lean on... and she is far too independent for that.

Ah the simple little gestures that can step on toes, stir emotion and cause us to look at ourselves.

I should have grabbed Sacha's arm and kissed his cheek, and grabbed my Belle Mere's arm too.

I have long road of learning to do...

The Birthday List

               

Photo: Chelsea 18 months old.

Today is my daughter's (Chelsea) birthday. In France turning eighteen is a big deal. It compares with turning twenty-one in the States. Chelsea is considered an adult today.

When I was pregnant with Chelsea, French husband was jealous. He wanted to be the one pregnant. He wanted to be the one growing a baby inside. To appease his wishful thinking I let him tell me five things he would do if he were pregnant and that I would do those things for him.

1) He wouldn't watch TV, nor watch any violent movies, nor be around any loud noises, he would turn off the radio, and never listen to rock music...(I had to remind him to keep it simple and not go into detail, otherwise I might begin to feel like Pumpkin Peter's wife!)

2) He would give up sugar, caffeine, anything too spicy, and never would he eat junk food, nor eat anything too hot or too cold...( he was on a roll, he went on and on... I alway wonder how it was that I gained 55 pounds living on air?)

3) He would listen to opera music, not just as background music, but sit and listen to it, at least an hour a day. Oh, and not just any opera music... only Puccini and Verdi.

4) He would take long silent walks in the forest breathing deeply the fresh air, being mindful of the earth under his feet and hug trees.

5) He would follow osteopathy classes, and he would have the baby in Pithiviers (the clinic where Leboyer, Odent and Lamaze ideas and knowledge are used.)

I did follow French husband's list of things to do while pregnant. Chelsea was born in Pithiviers, ten pounds, smiling and very calm. (Though by Cesarean section.)

Happy Birthday Chelsea! Do you know Daddy has an ENTIRE-LONG-ENDLESS-LIST for you to follow as an adult?

Not a Scratch

               

Yesterday, I was out with my Belle Mere (Mother in law.) We came home very late. Right before I turned onto the street where we live, a car pulled out of the intersection coming towards my Belle mere's side of the car. Quickly I swerved but the Mercedes ramped, BOOMED, into the side of my pristine, ten year old, very little, white car with blue velvet jean upholstery! My Belle Mere and I both screamed in fear-harmony.

Those mere seconds seemed like slow motion, we were okay?!?

I pulled over and my Belle Mere and I got out of the car to see the damage.

The man driving the Mercedes came running to see if we were okay.

The three of us stood dumbfounded as we looked at my car... barely scratched.

I asked if his car was damaged, he said not at all. We thought out loud, "How can that be?"

Do you believe in angels?

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Note:

Thank you for each and every single generous word of kindness you gave to me yesterday. I am speechless, and for me that is quite unusual. I hesitated sharing my news, I was worried that it might sound presumptuous... Have you ever not wanted to share something because it is something dear to you and you are afraid if you share it something bad might happen to it?

I know it is why French husband prefers his old clothes and waits forever to wear his new clothes. He wants them to stay pristine in the closet rather than risk wrinkles and stains. When I see French husband purposefully not wearing his new things, I remind him of my brother Mathew's tactic. As kids,  my brother Mathew use to step on our new shoes scuffing them, then would say, "There you go, now you can wear them without worrying you will ruin them!"

Thank you for hearing my news and giving me a big pat on the back. For jumping up and down with me. I feel like I am in front of the class holding the A plus paper for once....it feels so good.

A Secret Revealed

                   

Several months ago to my surprise a magazine, a well loved one at that, asked me to take some photos for them. Sure why not, I thought what a crazy world this Internet is. Poof just like that. The Editor asked me if I could scout-out four or five stories in France for their magazine. I told her that the hardest thing to do would be to select only four or five. Teasingly, could I do a hundred stories instead? With that she comes over to France to see what I had. The editor is delighted. Before we set out to work we go to a flea market, of course why not my blog began because of such a place. Then afterward we start to work.

The Editor and I go to the pre-selected sites, she ohs and I click.  She erases a few. I click some more. My smile is so big my face is cracking, I am loving this. By the end of the day my hands are killing me, my eyes cannot focus, my soul is humming, I have found my groove. The photos start to come alive, the tri-pod and I act as one, and then in an instant I see a happy miracle: That the star in the sky, that prayer on my lips, those crazy thoughts in my mind have been heard and have granted a small opening.

A new world has opened up and I have jumped in... Thank you Internet, thank you blogging, thank you readers, thank you French brocante, thank you camera, and thank you little self for taking on a dare and finding a missing key to my happiness. 

Victoria magazine will feature my photography. This month my home in France is dotting the pages.

Note: The photos I have used for Victoria I cannot use on my blog for six months. I have yet to see the issue. But I have heard it is out since some of you have noted by emails and in the comment section of my blog.

The Gift of Wisdom

               

After telling Chelsea (who was four at the time,) the story of Jesus, Mary and Joseph, of their long travel, the ride on the donkey and when they arrived there was no room in the Inn... Jesus was born in a manger.

Chelsea asked me with a surprise look on her face, "Didn't they know to make reservations?"

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Note: Seven days before Christmas the O Antiphons are sung at Vespers. The O Antiphons are made up of seven parts, one part is sung each day. Today is the antiphon of O Sapientia (Wisdom.)

Photo: French antique statue of Mary praying.

Oysters, Mangroves, and Jingle Bells.

               

These pieces of Palétuviers (mangrove wood) seemed to stir up the imagination of many. Your guesses were brilliant and plentiful. Most of the guesses leaned towards some sort of measuring stick, railing, molding or a holder of  something. There is some truth in each of those guesses, but not the whole truth.

Your guesses were varied, and each seemed reasonable. Each one I read I thought, "Yeah that would work." Sepia Art and many others thought these carved sticks would be darn cute as votive holders, Miss Sandy asked if was an baseball holder for prized autographed baseballs. And Ruth questioned if it was an antique ice tray! Now how is that for imagination?

Salt cell? Or maybe the holes were created to add water for butterflies asked Laure?

Smartie molds is what Catalina's husband Thomas guessed and that made me laugh out loud.

Many thought of the sticks could be used to plant seeds in perfect garden rows. Clever and functional but not the right answer.

I guess since I live in France many of you thought maybe the sticks were used as wine cap molds. My cousin Chris thought the sticks could be used to hold the corks in place while fermenting champagne.

The most original, if I dare say, was from my brother (Orama) He said:

"Side trim molding for Santa's sleigh, the holes are where the Jingle Bell hang."

The winner and the answer came from: Isabel...

"I think it is something used for the growing of oysters in "Etang de Thau" in south of France!"

"The main city of the Bassin de Thau, is Bouzigues. In 1925 a resident decided to raise oysters by attaching them to mangrove wooden sticks. Today, these wooden sticks have been replaced by nylon cords. The Bouzigues museum describes the evolution of the oyster farming.

Thank you for playing! Thank you for your enthusiasm and for making this blog's guesses games fun.

Thank you Orama, Isabelle, and every single one of you, who allow me the pleasure of searching for another part of France's history in the form or something old to stump you. I wonder if I can ever really stump all of you?

Photos: These sticks are from the turn of the century, they were used for growing oysters on palétuviers wood. Now they are often collected at antique markets as primtive art (by the way that was another commentors guess!)

Daisy

               

Bossy's darling, sweet, little angel girl named Daisy has had a terrible mishap. One that is unimaginable. Please go to Bossy's Blog and show your support.

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The results to the Guessing Game will be posted tomorrow.

Guessing Game...What is this?

               

What is this?

Usually I go to the brocante (flea market) alone. But last weekend French husband decided to go with me. I was as happy as a lark, what a rare treat. I knew he was tagging along to make me happy, kind of like a pre-Christmas gift... You know doing things you don't like, but doing it because the person you love enjoys doing it sort of gift. Basically he hates the brocante! (Okay hate is a slight exaggeration but not far off from the truth.)

As we were walking along hand in hand whenever I saw something unusual I would ask him to guess what it was. Often he got it right...this is his culture you know. But since I love to win I was determine to find something he didn't know. It was tough going. I figured if I could stump him then I might be able to stump you too!

               

This was one of the objects he didn't know. 

Do you know what these are and what they are used for? They are not "two by fours," though more along the size of "one by ones," does that exist?

Anyway a bag of Papillotes for the first person who guesses correctly, and another for the most original answer. You can guess more then once, I like to bend rules.

Guessing game ends tomorrow.

Update: 26 comments so far..very very interesting, clever, witty, and selecting an original is going to be tough. Though so far the correct answer is far far away... Or should I say cold?

Update: 65 comments warm, very warm...the answer is so close...

Final update: Wow! What amazing responses! Measuring sticks, candle holders, window frames, seed planter...talk about incredible imagination! I think I should do only guessing games  on my blog, you are the best group ever.

Guessing Games results will be posted Sunday. Your guesses are fantastic! I think I should buy hundreds of these "wooden sticks" and create some of your guesses with them.

Comments are closed as the contest's time is up!

Because you have been asking...

               

Because it is almost Christmas,

Because there are only two presents under my  Christmas tree that fell twice,

Because I found something that I think will stump you,

Because when I go to bed too late and my mind is too mushy too write...

Then it is a very good day to announce a Guessing Game tomorrow.

photo: What-nots found at the flea market. Aren't those Doll house candle holders pretty cool?

French Romance and Chocolate that goes POP!

               

French Christmas Tradition no. 2

A papillote is a chocolate (or candied fruit) that is wrapped in tissue paper with a note written on it. The sparkly golden exterior paper has fringed ends. Some papillotes, the ones I like the best, have a small firecracker inside. When you pull on the ends it sets the firecracker off and POPS! The papillote was created in Lyon at the end of the 18th century.

Legend has it that a young man who worked in a candy shop was in love with a girl downstairs (the French are so romantic and their stories often twist around kisses, drama and love... so up my alley.) To attract the young love's attention he wrapped love notes around each of the chocolates and tossed them into her window. (Of course striking her heart, watering her mouth, and causing sparks to fly.) The owner of the candy shop found out their little secret. He found it original, and the idea has flamed into a delicious French Christmas tradition.

Papillotes are usually decorate the Christmas table.

Papillotes are to the French what candy canes are to Americans. Though gee really, how can you compare chocolate, love notes that spark and go pop.... to a red and white peppermint cane? Then again Santa has a many tricks up his sleeve, a candy cane is just one of them.

French husband are you playing Santa this year?

Note: If you want to buy some papillotes check this out.