France Summer 2018: It's a wrap or a crepe!

It's August 16 in Paris, the night before my flight home to Portland. I have been gone 75 days. Who sent me to the best sleep away summer camp ever? My friend Angela calls Monflanquin an adult playground. Agreed!

Bill and I are dining at one of the many creperies near our hotel in the 14th. Somehow Bill's vegetarian order transformed itself into a charcuterie extravaganza which even I couldn't eat. The waiter was very apologetic about the mix up. We ordered an especially tasty dry Breton cider.  All good.

Looking back, this summer in France stands out as one of surprises.  Wonderful unexpected experiences, new friendships, and increased self confidence. The latter grew from being the director and chief of our house in France, managing repairs, entertaining guests, adding to decor and comfort. Amazon.fr is my best friend.  On the road, I navigated an SUV. Way out of my comfort zone but without mishaps. Each week, I forced myself to take an out of comfort zone drive. Good for me I rationalized. Then there was swimming practice. The municipal pool felt like second home as my practice sessions grew more and more frequent during the heat wave, and my breast stroked progressed.

In a small village where so many people know each other, there is a diplomatic art to relationships. Often, I would hear two sides of the same story and just nod with interest.  People's problems become gossip,  embellished versions of the truth, or a source of conjecture.  Again, the sympathetic nod. It works for me.

The village boasts many octogenarians and nonagenarians. They eat well, live less stressful lives, and enjoy community and village activities.  Back home now, I am aching to hear Bonjour, an acknowledgement of simply being a person, see the twinkle in a French person's eyes, relish the enjoyment of conversation. The village mailman stops his truck in the middle of the street to give me the traditional French kiss on the cheeks greetings through the open yellow postal truck window. My visiting American family just stars. But c'est normal!

So it's a wrap or a crepe!  The  French summer memories will nurture me until next time. I worked hard to make my life in Monflanquin  soulful and  joyful.  Out of all my experiences,  I leave you with this personal challenge:  Follow your dreams!

Much love,
Giselle

Medieval Madness

 Every August 15, Monflanquin gets a Medieval Makeover for the annual Medieval Festival.  Ten pigs are roasted on a spit. Wild boar and sausages are served in food stands. Drinks include a beverage called Donkey's Piss and Medieval Meed.   People parade in glorious Medieval costumes. Music, dancing, flag waving, and reenactment of Medieval life abound in the streets and alley ways of the village.  We enjoy watching a jousting tournament, a choreographed dog herding duck and geese program, elegant French dressage, snake tricks, and more.  Hundreds of people pour into the village for a couple of days of festivity.  Tourists love it, locals not so much.

Herding dog named Darkness stands guard,

 Our visiting family finds the shows highly entertaining. My favorite would be the dog leading his web footed prodigies through an intricate dance routine then showing us his talent for math and counting.

I do like to get into the spirit of the festival by dressing up a little. Many refuse finding the weather too hot for costumes. The Medieval Market down the hill sells beautiful leather wares, jewelry, books, and accessories in accordance with the festival theme. 

In this picture below, I am posing in front of our house. Unfortunately, the grapes above the door suffered from extremely cold then extremely hot weather this summer. By the time they ripen, I am at home in the classroom for another term. Hopefully, neighbors get to enjoy them.

We are planning to leave the village tomorrow. I have spend the last few days packing away valuables, giving final instructions to the family staying on, and saying my good-byes. The good-byes feel flat. I am too tired and numb to feel anything.  Leaving is so hard.

Me in my Medieval Garb

A Child's Delight

Loving chocolate, I barely pay attention to other kinds of candy. The weekend I hosted my French pen pal, her two daughters, and sister, all that changed. One of my favorite sections in the local French grocery store is Confiserie/ Bonbons. Falling under the category of academic research, I regularly try all kinds of flavored chocolate, mostly dark. The weirdest one was dark chocolate with sesame seeds. It sounded better than it tasted. Dark chocolate salted caramel came in among the top five as well as dark chocolate orange, dark chocolate raspberry, dark chocolate pistachio, and just plain dark chocolate.

When Fanny age seven offered me the candy pictured to the right, I was taken aback. Why was she offering me pills? But no, the colored pills proved to be candy. I could see why a kid might like them. Fanny acquired these candy pills while on vacation with her aunt. Aunt Nadege offered me black licorice shaped like a snail. These I loved, but Fanny hated. Before she left, sister Wendy, age three, gave me more licorice as a parting gift.

 Friends Gary and Ellen who visited me mid July seek out unusual candy wherever they travel. They couldn't find anything unusual in the French grocery store. I wondered where they could get the kind of candy offered by Fanny and Wendy. Wouldn't you know it, the very week after the departure of my pen pal's family, I discovered an amazing candy stall at the Monflanquin Thursday market. Must be  a new addition for the summer. As you can see from the photos, the variety is  stunning.  Behold, the candy pills and licorice snails among the choices. With gleeful abandon, I started to fill my candy bag. Total for the bonbons, 50 euros. Oops. Out of my budget. Luckily the kind vendor told me I could easily change the desired amount.  I left the market feeling like the proverbial kid in a candy shop.

Fascinating to spend the weekend with two little French girls. Some childhood behaviors must be universal. Grave concern about boo boos and sleeping in  new places. The desire to touch merchandise in stores. I must confess I still do this. The love of coloring and the little girl attraction to pretty and pink.  How affectionate Fanny and Wendy are! Fanny insisted we hold hands whenever we left the house. She drew sweet  heart drawings for me and my friend Diana. Wendy let me hold her. She also wanted to see my pyjamas. I was in heaven. Of course, they had their melt downs too. Totally normal. Fanny and Wendy eat really well. No avoidance of vegetables.  What really cracked me up was their desire to put butter on radishes and slices of ham. We are not talking a pat of butter here.  I must agree. Delicious flavorful French butter makes everything better.

Our sweet weekend came to an end. The two little girls said good-bye with "Je t'aime, Giselle."
Awww.   Je t'aime Fanny and Wendy.

My friend Christine love these. There is a surprise in the middle.

Dog Sitting

I am  taking care of little Miss Penny today while her parents pack up their house to movie to the country. She is such a well behaved dog! She is panting due to the heat. It has been in the high nineties all  week.  What a challenge without air conditioning!  I go to the pool as often as possible.  My breast stroke is improving!