"Maggy, carrot"

Being Jewish, I usually find the last two weeks of the year difficult.  I feel disconnected from almost everyone and everything. Christmas music while beautiful gets on my nerves. Most decorations do nothing for me. In short, I become a veritable scrooge. I remind myself that the holiday is cherished world wide and brings happiness and good cheer.. This year in particular, who doesn't need that? As I look back over the week, an unexpected gift did succeed in filling  me with joy. A  little stuffed dog toy in the form of a carrot.  

Bill walks Maggy to Starbucks every day then sits in the park with his coffee. Two sweet little girls Corin, age 3 and Emily age 1 often show up with their nanny/friend Lizzy.  Bill started to carry little baby carrot treats that the kids at the bus stop could give Maggy (pre-Covid) after she shook  paws. The little girls love this trick. They even get to "walk" Maggy  a bit., which makes them feel  grown up .  Corin says "Maggy, carrot" when she sees them. Emily whose mission is to pop carrot after carrot into Maggy's mouth says simply "more." We think this is Emily's only word.  Bill adores these little ones and  has adopted them as"grandchildren". 

Maggy loves her carrot so much that she hid it somewhere in the backyard along with her summer birthday present. Will we ever see it again???  It does not matter I suppose. This precious thoughtful gift symbolizes a special connection that Bill made this year.  And that means everything.

 

 

Fresh Pear Bread

Fresh Pear Bread

Every December, we receive a Harry & David  gift box of pears, cheese, and nuts from a thoughtful family member. This year I felt inspired to bake fresh pear quick bread.  I froze both loaves and plan to share them with friends and family. It does seem like this year our  kitchen counter lacks the usual abundance of holiday sweets and treats, which is a good thing as my rounder Covid body does not need more rounding.  

The holiday cards  continue to arrive with various seasonal greetings but my favorite one so far is Good Riddance 2020.  Now what to do with the nuts and cheese?

 

Latkes

As all holidays this year, Hanukkah felt  very different. Luckily as compensation, my latkes turned out unusually tasty for our crowd of two.  I offered three latkes with a side of apple sauce and sour cream to my neighbor. She offered me gingerbread.  Several people asked about the secret to well made latkes:  After grating the onion and potato, drain the mixture in a covered colander for 10 minutes.  Add the rest of the ingredients and fry.  I prefer the classic version of latkes and make them the same way every year.  They can be perceived as a lot of work. Some people don't enjoy the pervasive smell of latkes in the home for  days after. I find the smell comforting. When a rabbi I follow told us she prefers tater tots, I just  laughed. How many tater tots would equal a latke anyway?  Trader Joe's sells frozen latkes which are not bad.  But I will stick to my traditional home made latkes and hope that next year I can feed a crowd.

Behold!

 Behold my new red leather recliner! Isn't it beautiful?  It serves as world headquarters for Say It In French Language School and is super comfy.  I ordered it back in July, and it finally arrived a few weeks ago.  I never envisioned buying a recliner for myself but with the ongoing pandemic keeping me at home,  my envy of Bill's  old faithful recliner grew. Unwilling to share, Bill would give me the stink eye if he ever found me in his special chair. Time to  get my own recliner!  As a bonus, my recliner faces  the window and with enough imagination, one could imagine oneself on vacation as the sun sets among the trees.  What have you done to make yourself more comfortable at home this year?

To Go or Not to Go? That is the Question.

 

Above, Daniel Zawacki, a volunteer for the Hong Kong Holocaust and Tolerance Center, congratulates Eva Schloss, the step sister of Anne Frank, after her  January 2020 talk about surviving  Auschwitz.

Our younger son Daniel still living and working in Hong Kong spent the last couple of months trying to decide if he should come home for the holidays. Things heated up this week as the deadline for deciding approached.  One can leave Hong Kong and one can return, but the return looks like fourteen days of surveyed quarantining in an approved hotel. No options.

Daniel and I went back and forth as we do. The pros, the cons. The risks, the fears. We analyzed the situation from every angle.  We shed a few tears.  Finally, it was the Quarantining that put the nail in the coffin.  Too brutal!

Daniel apologized to me. Regretfully, he would not be coming home this year. I understood completely. To go or not to go is the painful question for all travelers in 2020, and especially painful between mother and son. Hopefully, next year at some point the answer will be a joyful affirmative so that  mother and son will be reunited. Fingers crossed.

Catching Up and Down

Le Jardin du Luxembourg

I left France  with a heavy heart on November 4 after spending two soul numbing days of lockdown in Paris.  At the Hotel du Parc where I  faithfully stay every year, the anxious owner burst into tears overcome with fear about the future of her family's hotel business. I was actually the only guest at the hotel. What a strange and eerie couple of days!  By day, I walked for exercise in the practically deserted Jardin du Luxembourg. By night I wandered the streets unsure of which restaurants even did take out and ending up for the upteenth time at the grocery of the nearest Monoprix.  We needed an "attestation paper" proving that all outdoor excursions met the approved criteria. The atmosphere felt sad and dark, literally dark because the street lamps did not work around the hotel. My imagination flew to a war time Paris under occupation. By the time, I left Paris, I felt  truly sick to my stomach. 

So empty

So beautiful

So elegant

After 24 days at home, I still can't shake that eerie haunted feeling every time I think about Paris. Fortunately, the weeks spent in Monflanquin before lockdown felt light hearted  and fun. I caught up with dear friends, made new ones, and got to experience the seasonal delights of hiking in autumn in France.  It is good now to be back with Bill and Maggy in the United States even as we experience new restrictions.
 

French Food and More

I don't need to tell you how wonderful French food is. It makes cooking a pleasure, and everything tastes better here. Suddenly the weather hurdled into unseasonably cold ( 38 degrees F). Because I packed so lightly as an American Covid refugee should, I did not bring any warm clothing. Each week I head over to the Charity Store to search for sweaters, jackets, scarves, etc. One day, I felt so desperate and cold that I bought pants at the grocery store. Why not? Due to the pandemic, dressing rooms remain shut. That means discreetly finding a little corner without a mirror for try ons. I usually come home with some passably fitting garment to add to my cold weather wardrobe collection. The other day, I scurried up to the Charity Shop only to find an incomprehensibly long line outside. The line is for food assistance the volunteer in the shop explained. The main objective of the Charity Shop is to use the money we spend there to provide food for the needy. I felt quite taken aback. I honestly never thought about the needy of Monflanquin and its vicinity. On the surface, people here seem well off, but many jobs were lost due to Covid and life circumstances.  I resolved to spend as much money as possible in pursuit of a Charity Shop winter wardrobe. My last purchase, a scarf, totaled 50 centimes. I objected and insisted on paying two euros. It's actually really hard to spend  a lot of money in the Charity Shop. Almost everything costs two euros. I will need to find another way to help.

Dinner sized tomato

  

Fall Market Bounty

My French Rental Car

My Blue Renault Captur Rental

My blue rental car greets  me  with  congratulatory music upon entering.  At home, I drive a 1997 Volvo which feels as comfortable as an old sweater.  I study the  rental car's manual and hope for the best.   A thick rectangular key card opens the doors.  To start the engine, step hard on the brake and push the stop/start button.  The parking brake light goes off, and off you go! Big Blue does drive like a dream, but I wish it were the size of a Smart Car on narrow French roads and in parking spaces. 

 

Yesterday, Big Blue and moi went to the big Saturday market in Villereal. Blanche my GPS (I do clearly like to name inanimate objects) advised me to go down narrow picturesque streets to reach my destination. Holding my breath, Big Blue and moi went round in circles until we miraculously squeezed into a parking space. Ouf. I walked quickly to Maggie's Cafe to meet my friend. After coffee, I soon realized I was in trouble. Where had I parked? In my haste, I did not take enough time to focus on the street names. Oy. I felt lost. I now needed Blanche to help me find Big Blue. Finally, I remembered passing a bakery on the way to the center of the market. But where was it? In desperation, I stopped at a vendor's prune stand to ask about the nearest bakery. Her directions made sense, and I soon found Big Blue. Whew!

Oh, no!

Here I am drinking delectable Breton cider  at a cute Creperie near our hotel in Paris.  Part of me still can't believe we made it to France, so complicated, confusing, and risky was this trip. Before departure, I contacted five French embassies and got five different answers to my question about entering France from Poland.  The reality of the trip felt relatively easy, and everyone was kind along the way.

We did encounter a few, "Oh. no." situations  in Paris. The Bus Direct into Paris posted a suspended service  sign due to the health crisis. We spent at least an hour  figuring out alternative transportation.  It felt harder to get out of Charles de Gaulle Airport than to get into France.  The next morning we proceeded to the train station with our Ouigo train tickets in hand. Alas, we did not go because due to remodeling and lack of signage at the Gare Montparnasse, we missed our train. I cannot remember the last time I missed a train. We bought new  more expensive tickets  and fell exhausted into our seats.

Once at our house in Monflanquin came the biggest "Oh, no!" of all. No  functioning Internet,  telephone, or television. Even my French cell phone  wouldn't work. Cut off from the world, we drove over to the Orange boutique in Villeneuve-sur-lot the next day. Thus began the painful process of explaining, testing equipment, more explaining, more testing until finally one long week later, Orange sent out a technician who resolved the problem in five minutes.  

On the flight to Krakow, I noticed a little toddler boy. He seemed the male equivalent of the "Hey, Lady" toddler on the flight to Chicago. Every few minutes, he would cry out, "Oh, no!" until he finally conked out. I dedicate this blog post to him and hope our "Oh, no" experiences are over for now.

 

Hey, Lady!

 Where do you think you're going? To France, via Poland. Sometime in August I formulated the plan to get to our house in France with the help of my Polish passport. Daniel applied first for a Polish passport at least three or four years ago. I followed suit. It took an enormous amount of patience, documentation, and a significant  amount of money to receive the Polish passport. Luckily, Poland does not require proficiency in Polish to acquire a passport  or I would have been toast. Have you seen how many consonants are in the average Polish word?   

Armed with my Polish passport and marriage license, we flew to Chicago from Portland.  We pulled down our masks for TSA at PDX but aside from that, all proceeded as usual. Bill and I shared a row with an empty seat between us.  Diagonally across from me sat an adorable toddler.  I watched her in fascination the entire flight. She distracted me from my worry about entry into Poland,  etc etc.  She insisted on showing another passenger behind me her video game, her shoe, her ballet moves. To get this person's attention, she repeatedly cried out, "Hey, lady." Reminded me of what a New York City toddler might say.  Now, I have taken to calling all toddler girls, "hey, ladies". Surprisingly, a lot of "hey, ladies" are traveling at this time. 

Before boarding the plane to Warsaw, I presented my Polish passport and my marriage license to prove Bill is my  legal husband of almost forty years.  I actually took an original copy which looked more official encased in a plastic sleeve.  The Lot Airline agent took a copy of the license and then we were good to go. Whew!!!

Our temperature was taken as we boarded the plane to Warsaw. A comic moment ensued as the agent struggled to take my temperature behind my shield.  Bill and I each enjoyed a row to ourselves. I stretched out and slept.

I repeated the same drill to board our connecting flight to Krakow: Polish passport, marriage license, agent photocopy.  No  Covid testing, no questions, no problem.  The taxi driver reserved in advance greeted us  as we entered Arrivals with a sign bearing my name. I felt a little like crying.  Thanks to my Polish passport, I succeeded in traveling to my father's homeland. I consider the passport a gift from my father without which   a trip to  France during these crazy times could never be imaginable.

Still here

My new summer love

I am still here. The EU will not allow Americans in so we wait. Meanwhile my sweet  French little village house sits empty.  I  too feel empty and sad. As Michael said to me. "France is your thing , Mom."
Without "my thing", I don't know how to navigate this new thing,  summer in Portland. We went to Hagg Lake last week. I even swam a little bit in the  chilly water.  We hiked with Maggy who stress panted round trip in the car.  Yesterday, we picked  blueberries  and raspberries at Smith Berry Farm where we washed hands before picking, wore masks, and stayed well away from others.  Maybe wine tasting next week?

The last time I celebrated July 4th at home might have been twenty years ago.  The neighborhood looks proudly patriotic in its red, white, and blue finery,  but I cannot feel proud of our country at this particular time.  I feel our country aching for lack of intelligent brave leadership. With freedom comes responsibility.

I do my best to be kind and compassionate, offer assistance when needed, and remember to be grateful for all the beauty and love that surround me here in Portland. And so, I will spend the summer  enjoying what life offers me. I will grieve "my thing" but I will love all the rest.
Comments: Giselle.bawnik@gmail.com

Soul Collage

My Spring Collage

My Soul Collage Class encourages us to share our collages made at home via email with the other members of our group.  We make collages on 5x7 cards. We're  given different topics to explore ,for example spring, motherhood, the pandemic or whatever comes up for us.  Meeting in person allowed for great shared insights and meaningful communication. Many made collages in honor of Earth Day, but we seem to making very few collages at this stage of confinement.  I am struggling to finish a collage about de-confinement, but  am either lacking images or inspiration or both.   Also, what does de-confinement look like?
Today marks two week of daily blogging.  I am going to take a break and will be back when something blog worthy  happens. Thanks so much for reading. If you would like to write a comment, please send it to Giselle.bawnik@gmail.com
Be well!

Best of Baking

Apple Turnovers

Raisin Scones

Bill's Challah

Artisan Bread

Since March 16, the official day we went into confinement at our house, baking continues to comfort us.  Pictured above are the creme de la creme, what we deemed  baking successes.  I am most proud of the apple turnovers which I made per my sister's request. Thank goodness for store bought puff pastry. Not all grocery stores carry puff pastry. We got ours  conveniently at Winco.  Today I could have used a good bake. My world seemed too quiet, and the gray weather did not help the mood.  I miss the liveliness of my PCC classes and the variety of folks at the college. Is this what retirement feels like?  I hope not. This is what confinement feels, and until it's over, I will keep on baking.

Comments: Giselle.bawnik@gmail.com

Yum

A sweet treat

Bill and I could not resist getting a treat today. The sun shone, the air smelled sweet.  We felt rather warm after doing some socially appropriately distanced shopping. We passed Dairy Queen on Beaverton-Hillsdale Highway and thought, why not?  We took our place in the drive-thru line. it immediately came to a stand still. Fifteen minutes later, I was ready to call it quits and go home. Bill
insisted we tough it out as we had already made the commitment. He really is serious about his ice cream. Finally, the line started moving slowly.   We both  already knew what we wanted:  chocolate dipped vanilla cones. Normally my size choice would be small, but after waiting  in this interminable line, it merited an upgrade. Finally, we made it to the order window. After that, it took almost no time at all to get the cones.  I held both as Bill drove us to a shady parking lot. My cone found my mouth immediately. Cool, creamy, and sweet, it hit the spot.  It took half an hour to get the cone, but it was worth the wait.  Do yo have a favorite at Dairy Queen?

Happy Anniversary

Drinking Cider in Paris

Bill and I celebrate 39 years of marriage today.  We did take out coffee at Starbucks and read our vows  to each other as we do every year.  I wrote the vows, long ago, and it struck me how relevant they are even now especially in confinement.  As in every long marriage, we've experienced ups and downs, but we have always stuck together. I think one of our strongest qualities is the ability to laugh at ourselves. We also do family meetings every Sunday. We were married in Menomonie, Wisconsin at the Mabel Tainter Theatre.  The theatre is registered on the US National Register of Historic Places. The theatre 's history can be found at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mabel_Tainter_Memorial_Building  You can see from the pictures on the site what a gorgeous setting it makes for a wedding.  Back then, we were able to rent the entire theatre for $35.  Each guest we invited also participated in the wedding ceremony.  I loved the intimacy of our wedding. Hopefully, those marrying this season with limited participants will  also appreciate its value.

Beauty and burn out

Night Sky

Up  high on the terrace of our house in Monflanquin,  I watch  magnificent sunsets and sky.  "Good night, Monflanquin," I whisper.  No one  can hear or see me.  This  little ritual at the end of the day brings me comfort. In the morning, I open the  creaky old shutters of the bedroom to a charming village scene.  The day begins, and an inexplicable joy sets in.  At home here in Beaverton,  days begin and end with other words, other practices, but no breathtaking views. Yes, I am missing my little morsel of France, my refuge.
At the end of another week of confinement, I feel weary. No need to explain. You all understand. But I have thought up a term for it "confinement burn out".  Perhaps someone already coined it  No matter.  It suits.

A man and his dog

Bill and Maggy

Since I posted about my new beagle cup a few days, today I  am posting  about the Beagle. Maggy is Bill's best friend. She is not really a lap dog so it takes some doing to get her to stay quiet  in a chair.  Every morning, Bill walks Maggy to Starbucks where  he gets a cup of  dark roast. Here's how it works. First, order on mobile app. Then stand in front of Starbuck's door on a spot marked "wait here". The barista opens the door and asks for the customer's name. Bill is a regular so this last step is skipped. The order is placed on a little table while you stay back. The door  shuts, and you are free to pick up your order. There is even a tip jar. Maggy gets offered a puppacino ,whatever  that is.  Bill always  refuses politely. Then they walk to the park where they sit at a picnic table. Bill drinks his coffee, reads, or calls a family member. Maggy just sits patiently and barks selectively at passing dogs.  A little neighborhood girl, age three, who often goes to the park at the same time as Bill has become quite fond of Maggy. In fact, Bill lets her take the leash. She walks Maggy nearby.  For her, this is a BIG DEAL. She's got that look. Maggy is amazingly good with her. She resists giving back the leash.  I hope someday she will have a dog of her own to walk and love. It just seems right.

Can you see me?

Does this picture look blurry to you? Then maybe, you too, need these glasses. They are blue light blocking anti glare.  With so much Zooming,  Netflix, and Google searches, by the end of the day, my eyes cry out for relief. I can barely read one more word, but the confinement rituals must go on. These come in black, tortoise, or clear vintage round frames   +0,  +1.50, +2.00, and +2.50 .  I like the accompanying zippered case plus the glasses are extremely light weight. If you would like to know how to purchase these glasses please let me know, and I will send you a link.

My New Love

Love my new Beagle Mug. Love the polka dots, and at the bottom of the

cup are inscribed the words LOVE YOU. That's a lot of love, but we all 

need that these days.  Usually, in this particular cup, I drink  Quik Masala Chai

which I get at an Indian grocery store in Beaverton. A friend of mine gave 

me a packet to sample, and I became immediately hooked. Yes, it is possible 

to make  Masala Chai myself, but it would not be  Quik.

Bill has his own Beagle mug. His says "A house is not a home without 

a beagle." So true!  And a house without a beagle in confinement would be

less sane except around 5 P.M. when the beagle barks loudly at all

the dogs walking by.  Especially helpful during a lull in a Zoom Meeting is

showing the beagle off to other Zoomers. I always

watch her face. It evokes total incomprehension of technology and screens

with a certain "Je m'en fous"  (I couldn't care less.)  French students, please 

do not use this expression unless you are certain of its appropriate usage.

 It is often considered impolite.

Irony and Mystery

Hong Kong Skyline

Our son Daniel lives in Hong Kong.  I was so worried about him back in February. During the Chinese New Year holiday break, he changed planes in China on the way to his vacation destination. Upon his return, his company told him he needed to be quarantined for two weeks.  Since his apartment is only 250 square feet, he wondered if he would go stir crazy. He also did not have a powerful internet connection at home which would make working difficult.  Well, he coped best he could.

Hong Kong is actually not in lock down. Daniel is able to go to work. People can gather in groups of four in restaurants 1.5 meters apart. The public swimming pool is scheduled to open this week. Considering a population of 7.451 million living in very close quarters, the following figures are stunning:
There have been 1,056 confirmed cases of Covid-19;  1,025 recovered and 4 deaths.  How is this possible? Daniel is safer from the virus in Hong Kong than here at home.  I don't pretend to know the answer. I do know that people in Hong Kong practice a culture of mask wearing due to pollution. They also choose to wear masks when feeling sick. It's not a real kissy touchy culture like France or Italy, for example.  Hong Kong  is actually  now  able to send masks to  other countries who need them.  There is irony and mystery at work here. Thoughts?

Will it fit?

The Dress

I bought this dress on sale at the end of last summer. I pictured myself wearing it in Monflanquin on a hot sunny day maybe after a swim.   Could be it will be worn in Beaverton  on a hot sunny day after a dog walk. It still has the tags on .  Honestly, I am reluctant get into the dress. What if it doesn't fit after all the  carbohydrate consuming?   I am pining for new clothes. Did my due diligence and went through my closets.   The clothes I tried on did not bring me joy. Suffice it to say some brought physical pain and others despair.  The good news is that now there is room for new skirts, dresses, and tops.  Stores are re-opening, but I am not quite ready to face the new protocol of shopping. The weekly masked forays into the grocery stores leave me exhausted. So much darting and dodging of folks. Mastering how to smile with only one's eyes. Maybe we need little blinking signs attached: Smiling now, half smiling now, frowning a bit,  lips pursed feeling thoroughly disgusted, and if I don't take this mask off soon, I will pass out.
Online shopping works , but only for shoes.  Maybe it's because I stick to brands I know, and my feet tend not to  age or reflect  weight changes.   Until I can face shopping for clothes, it will be creative comfortable ensembles for me. What do you like to wear "en confinement". As I like to say, it really does sound better in French. Thanks for reading everybody!

Catherine and Layla

Born Tuesday May 12, Layla arrived looking  already adorable and weighing 6 lbs, 13 ounces. She is the second daughter of my oldest nephew.  Big sister Catherine not really  so big at 19 months mistook her for a monkey at first sight.  Catherine squealed with delight. Dad corrected her by saying that this bundle is not a monkey but her very own baby sister. It sounded like Catherine had won the lottery. More squealing, then eventually Catherine got to hold the baby and give her a bottle. What a natural! Catherine looked delighted. I have never seen her so happy on camera. She will be an amazing big sister and a big help to Mom. My wish for Catherine and Layla  is that they become  loving sisters and best friends forever and ever.

Confinement, Carbohydrates, and Challenges

Photo Taken At The Oregon  Garden

This photo captures a  happy moment touring the Oregon Garden with son Daniel several years ago. The couple on the swing (I think it is a swing) reminds me  today of Bill and me in confinement.  We could use a bit more  room and some of our parts are looking less than spiffy probably due to an overload of carbohydrates.  Will anything still fit when we are liberated? Just this week alone, I baked apple turnovers, and Bill whipped up croissants and his specialty pizza.  Whipped up? Well, not exactly. When Bill suggested I make my own puff pastry for the turnovers, I became livid (symptom of confinement) and suggested he make his own puff pastry. Nobody even on the Great British Baking Show admits to making their own puff pastry unless they are in the Great British Baking Show.

Well, Bill took me seriously. Suddenly, he seemed to be banging about in the kitchen.  I was seriously engaged watching Netflix or playing Scrabble when I became aware that there was a lot of yeast, butter, flour, rising, resting going on. Bill looked a bit furtive.  I knew not to ask. He was still at it at 11 P.M. In the morning, I found him in the kitchen again. Had he ever gone to bed?  He could no longer hide his  culinary creation. Croissants! Who makes their own croissants from scratch except French bakers?

Never challenge Bill or maybe always challenge Bill.  Years ago, I announced it was time to give away the unicycle that sat idle in our basement for years. The next day, there he was learning to ride it. He has not stopped  riding  ever since.

Apple Turnovers With Cream Cheese Icing

Bill's Delicious Amazing Croissants

Our Garden Grows

Our Arugula Harvest

We planted our garden about three weeks ago.  As you can see from the above photo, our arugula is thriving. Google advised picking the outer leaves first. I found it difficult to distinguish outer from inner leaves but did as instructed. All subjectivity aside, this is the best arugula I have ever tasted, fresh and peppery. The only problem is I need a lot more of it for salad, but I will be patient. In addition to arugula, we planted cauliflower, eggplant, red, yellow, and orange pepper, and cherry tomatoes.  It is interesting that Bill will plant only from seed. I am anti seed or perhaps more accurately seeds are anti me.  Bill planted radishes, carrots, and pumpkins.  So far only  radishes show signs of growth.  We will see. Does anyone have any gardening tips? We desperately need them.

Immigration, Cancellation, Exploration

At the Chinatown Museum

This photo was taken back in December at the Chinatown Museum, 127 NW 3rd Ave, Portland. Daniel and I learned so much about the history of Chinese immigrants to  Portland thanks to docent Bertha Lee Saiget. Bertha herself was raised on the outskirts of Chinatown  by parents who were new immigrants from China.  Bertha's own family is displayed prominently in many of the photographs on the museum's walls. Now that my volunteer job at Travel Portland is kaput due to the closing of the center, maybe I could volunteer at the Chinatown Museum when things return to normal.

This morning, Delta canceled my flight to Paris on June 6. I felt both relieved and worried. Relieved because June 6 seems too early to return. Worried because when is a safe time to go back ? When will tourist attractions and markets  re- open? Obviously, nobody knows so it is play the wait and see game, a game I dislike and am not sure to win.  Daniel is supposed to meet me in France at the end of June. Looks like that won't happen either as Hong Kong currently puts everyone returning from abroad in quarantine.

Quick! I need a silver lining. I get to experience summer in Portland. Can't remember the last time that happened. Tomorrow I will give you an update on our vegetable garden.
Be well, everyone!

It's okay for now

When I was 17, I won a beautiful collection of Bible books in an essay contest about rebuilding the land of Israel. The details of the contest remain quite fuzzy, and honestly, I never opened any of the books until two weeks ago when I joined an online Torah study group.  The group led by a prominent local rabbi is wildly popular. Each week 80 people pop up on the screen not only to listen but to participate. The Rabbi encourages lively discussion.  We talked about our response to Covid-19.  One man offered that he is doing well, but what about all the people suffering? The Rabbi's response felt so true. " Actually, none of us is doing well. We can't respond to others in our usual ways. It is okay to be in pain and not know what to do".  That said it all.

Still here, my dear

Michael the pre-school artist!

A friend and I  started to talk  about  what we do in confinement and ended up talking about what we could do and don't do in confinement.  Her list fit on a scrap of paper. Mine in a note book.

Michael the pre-school baker!

Well, I did  do a bit of  file cabinet clearing and got up to "N". Along the way, I found these two treasures, pictures of Michael in his  pre-school
newsletter. What a cutie with his curly hair!

Today marks the first day of "de-confinement" in France. The country will open up slowly. First, primary school children will return to school. The French will be allowed to travel within a 60 mile radius. The dreadful self imposed permission  slip to leave the house is no longer necessary.  Many more controls are in place.

I am  holding a ticket to Paris  for June 9 purchased back in February. I fear it will be too early to return. My refund for my March 16 trip still goes unprocessed, but don't get me started on that.

Since we  are all still "en confinement", I have decided to issue myself a challenge to blog every day.
Be well, everyone!

Silver Linings and New Beginnings

Greetings from "en confinement"  The kitchen is my happy place these days, well, every day actually.
The above pictures my first attempt at scones which taste great but  look more like cookies. Of course, I ate too many of them and felt particularly grateful for the Jazzercise Live class this morning.  Plus we are having vegetarian lasagne tonight.

Starting online French classes tomorrow with Zoom. I anticipate we will  experience different comfort levels with an online Book Club.  I have tutored a private student for quite some time with Skype and Google Hangouts.  That seems easier than a group discussion in French. We will see.

By the way, the scone recipe comes from a book entitled Afternoon Tea Serenade. The book lay untouched in my cookbook closet (yes, closet) for at least ten years. In fact, it even comes with a cassette of classical chamber music to enjoy while sipping tea. Where the heck the cassette tape is, I have no idea.  Actually, using a recipe from this cook book falls under the  Silver Linings of Confinement. Do you have any silver linings of your own to share?

Non Voyage

F

French Onion Macaroni and Cheese

The panic of the Covid-19 pandemic reared its ugly head over the weekend. France is in lock down. Everything is closing except for groceries, pharmacies,  gas stations, tabacs and essential services.  After much agonizing, I made the painful  decision not to fly to France tomorrow.  This required a lot of soul searching. What was the motivation for my trip?  Hanging out with friends, participating in the hiking groups, enjoying life in France.   Would this be possible in light of the current restrictions? Then there is the unknown? Would I unwittingly be spreading the virus to the sweet older residents of Monflanquin? How seriously would people take the urge to self-isolate?  What difficulties would I face upon my return?  I exhausted myself checking different web sites for information.  Finally, I reached out to friends in the village to get their perspective.  The general consensus was that Monflanquin would not be as I know it. So here I sit sad and mad and very tired.

 I walked to Starbucks with Bill and Maggy today.  Most of the customers drove through or ran in and out to get coffee. Thinking of coffee, we just learned that  our son Michael closed both his Brooklyn coffee shops indefinitely due to the New York lock down.  As a mother, that hurts more than any other Covid-19 disappointments.

I did not think any photo could sum up this post. So you are looking at a picture of French Onion Macaroni and Cheese, made with gruyere and white cheddar. It tastes like French onion soup without the soup, the closest  I could get to anything French this week.  Its creamy deliciousness did offer temporary comfort.   Be well, everyone!

Love this cook book!

Exotic smells dance through my kitchen these winter days. Seeds of cumin and fenugreek combined with chat masala, turmeric, black salt, ginger, garlic, and hind  magically transform our  ordinary week day dinner to a fragrant Indian feast.   I received Indian-ish by Priya Krishna as a holiday gift back in December. The best way to describe the cook book is happy. Ms. Krishna shares her Indian  family's traditional and  not so traditional recipes. Designed for the home cook, the recipes are easy to follow. The author explains basic techniques of Indian cooking and offers tips through out. The essential spices can be found in Indian/Middle Eastern grocery stores or can be ordered online. Throughout the book are picture's of Priya's happy looking family with special tributes to her mom.  This one loving cook book has helped me get through the gray rainy  Oregon winter. Un grand merci to Priya Krishna.

A New Vocabulary Word

Bonjour!
Maggy and I are showing off my latest pre-trip acquisitions: new hiking shoes and gaiters.  Never knew the word gaiters  until my neighbor  Diana in Monflanquin  displayed these anti-mud  pants protectors. They come in different sizes and are held together with velcro and a strap to buckle underneath the hiking shoe.  Will let you know how well they work.  I participate in two hiking groups  around Monflanquin. The Tuesday coed Francophone group and the Friday ladies only, mostly English, which culminates in lovely cakes and catch ups. To their credit, the English women choose to speak French most of the time. I have met really interesting people through both hiking groups. Each hike varies in length and location. Usually 10 k is my limit, but I have been known to make exceptions.  It takes a lot of rough weather to cancel a hike.  Looking at Maggy's snow white dog legs and her penchant for puddles, what do you think about gaiters for dogs?

It's Not As Easy As You Think

Delighted to get my renewed American passport in the mail!

Passport Renewed!

My next trip to France is coming up in exactly one month from today.  In a bold self-affirming move, I am taking spring term off from PCC. I will continue tutoring private students and  teach my French Book Club Class.  Also on the menu  for spring is a French Cooking Class chez moi. Date to be announced.

You may think traveling must be a breeze for me since I do it so often. Non, non, et non!  I just spent at least six hours online arranging my next flight to Paris this summer.  Indecision and pickiness plagued me. I want a reasonable fare in a comfortable duration of time with a not too early  morning departure.  What!  Ce n'est pas possible! Actually, it is not. I finally made peace with the ungodly early departure time and the not quite such a bargain fare. Oh, I forgot to mention that I also want to earn air miles.

Well, it's done now.  The next steps will be car and hotel rental and purchasing train tickets before I can finally arrive at our beloved home in Monflanquin. You know what they say. The joy is in the journey. At least, I tell myself that.

As I write this pre-trip blog, I am going to share my pre-trip anxieties and pass along any tips that  help me and might help others who struggle with the pre-trip jitters and the myriad of details necessary to leave husband, home, and dog in a somewhat sane state of mind.

Tip #1: At least a month before a trip, take a clothing inventory.  Have I gained weight? Yes! :(  My favorite jean skirt no longer fits.  My body seems to have read the article on what to expect during menopause and  followed all the unwanted changes exactly.  Time to make a few new purchases of roomier basic clothing items. If anyone wants details, I am happy to share. In the meantime,  my foot size remains a diminutive six or six and a half worthy of rejoicing.

More later. Would love to hear any tips you might have about clothing and packing. I allow myself only a carry on no matter how long the trip so it is always a challenge.