Mission Accomplished

Here we are with our new friend Bob

Bill hard at work finishing the painting of our shutters

An elegant house we passed hiking.  One can always dream.

Although this two week trip flew by quickly,  it was enough  time to realize what about the village makes me really happy. To sum it up in one simple word, it is connection. Because  my last trip was just two months ago, my return truly felt like coming home.  I feel like an important part of the community there; respected due to my ability to speak fluent French, understood as  an expat home owner who  travels a great distance  to be in a place she loves,  and someone who makes the effort  to connect with people and really listen to them.   

I bought my first home in Monflanquin in 2001.  Upon my arrival, I consciously chose to speak to everyone who crossed my path, which was not easy for someone who back then did not consider herself an extrovert. When my  students  started coming  to the village for French Language Immersion Camp, a deeper  level of connection opened up.  Their daily assignment was to interview someone, anyone, in the village about a specific assigned topic.  Through my students interviews in the community, I met even more people, and they connected to  even more people through me. The local business owners  appreciated my students' contribution to village life.  Our  good  will brought real joy  and novelty to the village folk, many of whom do not travel or  encounter Americans.  Impressed with the students efforts to learn and speak French, they praised their language skills lavishly and took the opportunity to teach them about the history of Monflanquin. 

So I definitely am in a strong relationship with the village through our shared history. My friends know Bill, Michael,  Erin, Daniel and even Maggy. They know my nieces who visited and my cousin Leora.  They know about my little great nieces and nephews. They saw me knitting their baby blankets. They comforted me through sickness one difficult summer.   A multitude of five hour Sunday lunches allowed me to learn about their  personal struggles. They trust me enough to confide in me, and occasionally, I will be the only person that can be trusted with very intimate revelations as my discretion as a non permanent resident  makes them feel safe. In this way, my sweet French life gives me an amazing unique gift for which I am profoundly grateful.  

Speaking of friends, we made a new friend during this past trip. His name is Bob and lives on the street that intersects  ours.  Bob passed Bill working in front of the house.  Operation Paint Shutters  is located there as no garage or back yard exists. Well, Bob, who is American  and Bill got to talking.   It turns out that the number of coincidences Bob shares with me and Bill  is stunning. He even knows one of my friends from high school!  We went out to dinner with Bob, gave each other tours of our village homes, and thoroughly enjoyed hanging out.   Yes, my sweet  French life offers me a new gift, and I graciously accept it.

 

Off Again to La Belle France

We started our journey to France by flying to San Francisco and then Paris. In the International 

"Sun Bathing" at the San Francisco Airport

Terminal of the San Francisco Airport, Bill discovered an observation deck complete with intriguing sculptures and wooden chairs and recliners. This felt like a gift. I could stretch out, put my feet up, and breathe fresh air. Okay so it smelled a little like jet fuel. The sun beat intensely down on us which is why my face is covered in this picture.

I don't know who created these sculptures, but I found them amazing.

Bill actually traveled with me this time.  At times, I needed to slow down and remember I was not traveling solo as I often do. In fact, Bill proposed this September trip so he could finish his shutter painting project at the house.

Perfume in Paris

Showing off my perfume creation

 Daniel told me about a perfume making workshop he recently attended with a friend in Paris. It is a two hour class where participants learn about the industry of perfume making, how we detect and process scent in the brain, and receive instruction on how to make our own personalized fragrance. We choose three or four  liquid scents from a great variety of options among them  floral, woodsy, and spicy. Using the instructed  guidelines for proportion,  we measure the liquid essences and combine them  in a beaker. The proportions are written on a handout you can keep.   Each participant gets to take home a 50 ml bottle of their own creation. If you love what you created, you can order more of your personalized perfume at a later date.

The perfume workshop is given by Candora, a perfume company which specializes in a la carte perfume, Their shop is in the Marais and the perfume making classroom space nearby. I find the entire experience fascinating.  Since I  had just finished  listening to my audio book, The Perfumist of Paris by Alka Joshi,  the class reinforces much of the information about perfume  Alka Joshi provides.  I choose Vetiver, Rose Peppercorns, and Oud. Oud is a kind of woody resin found in the Middle East. It is also the name of a musical instrument played in the  region.

The owner of Candora is our instructor that day. He finds it a pity that in our culture,  floral scents are meant for women and woodsy spicy scents for men. So he encourages us to smell outside the box or should I say bottle.  I name my perfume La Puissance which means Power in French. It smells refreshing and somewhat masculine which suits me just fine.

I am back home in Beaverton now. My bottle of La Puissance reminds me of my amazing month in France, a month full of connections with friends,  beautiful rigorous hikes,  scrumptious food, laughter, and both the fun and challenging experiences of travel.  It takes lots of stamina to travel these days. Much of what I choose to do in France requires courage and fortitude. La Puissance says it all. Thank you so much for reading my blog. I hope you enjoyed it.

The link to the perfume workshop is below. I highly recommend the experience when you travel to Paris

https://www.candora-fragrance.com/make-your-own-perfume-workshop/

Much Ado About Color

The official colors approved by the Monflanquin mayor's office

Pigeon Blue Shutters! Tres joli!

A lemon tart on a cookie to celebrate a job well done

 Bill needs a project to feel useful in France. He is not one of those people who can be happy just relaxing. This trip he decides to repaint our shutters.  Honestly, our white  shutters do look awful as they display the  inevitable signs of aging, intensive peeling, and crumbling.  We go to Bricolage E. Leclerc. Imagine Home Depot where all the paint, the tools, the hardware etc etc  speak French and only French. I go along to translate but honestly French Home Depot vocabulary did not appear anywhere on the curriculum for French majors at UCLA. I do my best to translate but worry about missing  essential information on the products Bill needs.

Finally, after choosing brushes and a variety of painting accessories, it is time to choose a new color for the shutters. I actually feel comfortable choosing paint color because the colors are displayed very clearly next to the paint cans.  But wouldn't you know it, Bill and I disagree about the new  color for the  shutters. While he goes off to find yet one more necessary item, I stand in front of the paint samples.  Doubt fills me. Do I go with the color he likes or I like? After all, he is the one doing the painting. As I stand there, an angel appears in the form of my neighbor David who just happens to be shopping at E. LeClerc.  He spots me and informs me that I cannot just choose any color. The color must be approved by the Monflanquin mayor's office. The approved paint colors are coded so they can be accurately reproduced at any  shop where paint is sold. Brand does not matter. The paint must be mixed to conform to the approved  coded color. See color chart above. Thank you, David! I almost risked being run out of town by choosing Breton Blue. David himself got a scolding from the mayor's office because the white he chose for his shutters is not "the right white." This makes me laugh hysterically, but I am no longer laughing when handed a 14 page document about shutter colors at the mayor's office. Apparently, the regional comune must approve my color request. Photos of the newly painted shutters are required as well. They must be joking I think. What is it about the French and documents? My hand ached after signing about 100 documents to buy my house. I kid you not. So what color did I choose?  Pigeon Blue, probably impossible to decipher from the chart. You can see the color clearly on the repainted shutters. I fall in love with the color despite its name. I am not a big fan of pigeons.   So many people stop to admire the color and praise Bill's amazing paint job, that I begin to feel like the village celebrity though do none of the painting.  Bill's newly founded fan club passes by and praises him in French. He gets the gist of it. Bravo, Bon Courage!  The job becomes infinitely more difficult when the upstairs shutters crumble in his hand. Now Bill must rebuild the shutters which consume a great deal of time and include multiple trips to the lumber supply store. Imagine Parr Lumber where all the wood speaks French. 

Sadly, Bill cannot complete his project before his flight home.  With the project two thirds complete, Bill announces he would like to come back in the fall to finish the job.  This thrills me as Bill normally will travel to France only  once a year. What a silver lining or should I say Pigeon Blue?

Recent Activities

Since arriving in Monflanquin, I have hiked about 36 kilometers with a lovely group of people.  The entertaining conversations push me to go on.  At the end of the hike, we are greeted with coffee and cake made by one of the hikers.  By hiking, I get to see so much more of the surrounding area that I would never even know about. We pass sheep, goats, horses, fields of wheat and corn. Along the way, the wild flowers delight us. Surprises await.

Hiking in the French countryside

As Bill finally joins us, I prepare a crustless broccoli quiche. Bill is a vegetarian who adores cheese so this recipe works great. Somehow everything I prepare tastes better here.

Crustless broccoli quiche

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View from my bedroom

Pictures from my walk around the village perimeter

The view does not get old

What? Quelle horreur!

Exercises posted at the lumber  store before you start your project.

 While Bill was here, I made at least 10 trips to hardware stores. Not my favorite activity, but on the positive side, my French hardware vocabulary has expanded. Also, I am amazingly comfortable going up to a sales person and asking for what we need in French. Why were so many trips to hardware stores necessary? Look forward to learning why in my next post.

In the meantime........

Daniel enjoying local produce

 Bill got his new passport Wednesday June 7 and flew to Paris June 8. His adventures or misadventures continue. His train to Bergerac where we would pick him up is late leaving Paris for Bergerac.  He ends up spending the night in Limoges where the SNCF pays for a new ticket, a night in a hotel, dinner, and breakfast the next day. An SNCF employee  personally escorts Bill to his hotel. He also rolls his suitcase there.  We pick Bill up in Bergerac Saturday June 10.  Fortunately, Bill likes public transportation and is in a surprisingly good mood when he arrives.

In the meantime, Daniel arrives in Monflanquin. As you can see, he adores the local produce. 

Raptor Show at Josephine Baker's Chateau

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Josephine Baker's Chateau

Daniel also enjoys sightseeing. We visited the Chateau of Josephine Baker in Dordogne. She was a black  American jazz singer and dancer who became the sweet heart of France. Thanks to a comprehensive audio guide, we learn that Josephine Baker was not only an entertainer, but played a major role in the French resistance movement.  When she moved to the Chateau, she adopted 12 children of different races and nationalities to send the message that we can live in harmony despite our race and ethnicity.  Josephine loved the chateau for its elegance and grace.  She took up farming and looked after her exquisite gardens.  If you are in the Dordogne, I highly recommend a visit.

Tennis anyone?

Roland Garros French Open Tennis Stadium

Daniel and I enjoy watching  a match

The next day after my arrival in Paris,  son Daniel who is working temporarily in Paris and I head to the beautiful tennis stadium Roland Garros in the 16th arrondissement. Many years ago, I took a tour of the stadium and learned that the attractive clay courts are used only once  a year for the French Open.  With our day pass, we are allowed entry to any court we desire in addition to our assigned seats at the court Simonne-Mathieu.  Amazingly our favorite tennis player will play in court 9.  What incredible luck as one cannot know  in advance who will play the day of one's ticket.  Our guy is the Argentinian Diego Schwartzman, one of the shortest tennis players ever at 5ft7". He also happens to be Jewish which we appreciate as well.

What Schwartzman lacks in size he makes up for in effective speedy footwork and strong returns. Our seats in the intimate court 9 allow us to see him with extreme clarity. He flies across the court with a grace comparable to a ballet dancer.  His opponent, the Portuguese tennis player, Nuno Borges plays well;  the match is a close exciting one.  Diego Schwartzman wins! Daniel and I are ecstatic.

 

Someone is missing

We received the email to check in for our flights to Paris  on Sunday May 28. My check in went smoothly. I  decided to buy a  window seat rather than risk being stuck in the middle of the row.  My preferred seat would be the aisle but no aisle seats remained. Bill finished his gardening and went downstairs to check in. He came upstairs  only to announce that the airlines would not permit him to check in because his passport would expire in two months. France requires that one's passport be valid for  at least three months from first date of entry into the country. Never mind that Bill intended to visit France for only two weeks or that the airlines  had sold him a ticket  after he  submitted his passport information. The next day being Monday  Memorial Day, Bill could do nothing to sort out his dilemma until Tuesday. He woke up at 5 A.M. on Tuesday to book an appointment with the emergency passport office in Seattle. Why this could not be done online seemed incomprehensible to me.  It soon became clear that I would fly to Paris solo, and Bill would miss the French Open and the visit to the Catacombs, our two major planned events. Daniel felt bad for Dad. I felt worried, and Bill felt horrible.  Bill's appointment is Tuesday June 6 and if all goes well, he will get a new passport that day. He is planning to fly to Paris June 8 to arrive  June 9. Luckily, he found an available dog sitter that could stay with Maggy for an additional week so he could extend his trip. As of this writing, Bill still does not have a new passport.  Will he be able to get one on Tuesday June 6? Stay tuned to find out.

My birthday brunch Chez Oskar

Outside Chez Oskar with Bill and Michael

Inside Chez Oskar with Erin, Michael, Bill and Reema

Note the pretty rose in the Bellini

Chez Oskar is one of my favorite restaurants in  Brooklyn. An unpretentious French bistro, it serves marvelous French traditional dishes at reasonable prices.   Michael, Erin, and I all chose the salade nicoise composed of salmon rather than tuna.  Bill went with a classic French omelette and my niece Reema with eggs benedict.  We all appreciated our selections and finished our meal with a mouth watering warm flour-less chocolate cake.  What a fun week of dining out in the Big Apple!

After brunch, Bill and I head  to Tribeca to view  the Banksy in New York exhibit. According to Wikipedia, "Banksy is a pseudonymous England-based street, political activist and film director whose real name and identity remain unconfirmed and the subject of speculation."  I first learned about Banksy during a street art tour in Tel Aviv.  Israelis honor Banksy by dedicating  and preserving blocks and blocks of his art. Unfortunately,  Michael Bloomberg, Mayor of New York City, considered street art to be undesirable graffiti when Banksy did a residency in the city in 2013. Sadly,

a lot of Banksy's street art ended up destroyed.  But as the top photo's message states "THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE." 

 

Happy Anniversary to Erin and Michael!

Chocolate dipped matzoh and caramel ice cream 

Lemon meringue  and blueberry pie


We celebrated Erin and Michael's eighth anniversary with some very special treats. My sister had sent me an article about this limited edition  Zabars Passover ice cream with chocolate covered matzoh chunks and caramel in a vanilla ice cream base.   Only three of the Zabars stores carry it. I chose the shop at the Grand Central market after meeting a friend at the Campbell Bar located inside the station. The Campbell Bar  gives off a distinct  European vibe with its elegance and old world charm. My friend and I really could have spent all evening, chatting,  but I felt eager to pick up the ice cream.  Since the ice cream would not be available after this last day of Passover, I actually called and reserved a pint.  Clearly, I take my ice cream seriously.  Erin met me at the market. I invited her to pick out a couple of pies to go with the ice cream.  We enjoyed pie and ice cream after dinner the next day.  What a delicious celebration for my favorite couple!

 

Chinatown

After visiting the French book store, I head downtown  to meet Bill and Michael in Chinatown.  Bill read about  one of the oldest authentic Chinese restaurants, Hop Lee at 16 Mott Street, which still offers lunch specials for $7.50. For this price, you get bean soup, a main dish with rice, and of course the mandatory fortune cookie and orange slices.  We pick our lunch specials and wait for a server to take our orders, and wait and wait and wait . At the large table next to ours gathers what looks like the entire restaurant staff in red jacketed uniforms, partaking in their own family style lunch. Clearly, we could not expect any service until after they finished their meal.   They eat rather quickly, and it pleases me to see how the staff connects over lunch.  Luckily, none of us feels desperate to eat so we sit chatting patiently. The server who finally arrives at our table apologizes. We place our orders: mine shrimp with scrambled eggs, Michael 's ma po tofu, and Bill's green beans with garlic.  The server returns with our orders in record time. I love my shrimp and scrambled eggs. I hardly ever get to eat shrimp so this is a special treat.

Daniel living vicariously through us from Paris, requests that we try Fong On,  at 81 Division Street, the oldest family run tofu shop in New York City. I suggest we go there for dessert. Not a lot of dessert options, but we decide on tofu pudding, which is served with three possible sweet syrups.  Surprisingly, the pudding consists simply of silken tofu served warm and a little soupy.  We pour our syrups over it. As Michael comments, we are glad we tried  tofu pudding, but maybe once is enough. Other toppings with more texture are available and  might change our opinion if we do try this dessert again. As you can see, we enjoyed our tofu pudding sitting outdoors as the amazing warm weather continues.

 

tofu pudding in Chinatown

 

Back to Brooklyn

Can you spot Bill at the machine buying our AirTrain tickets?

Here we are back in New York City to visit Michael and Erin, our son and daughter-in-law. I miss them so much that seeing them  again feels like recovering a lost part of myself. 

As soon as we exit the plane, my ear picks up a multitude of foreign languages.  I get the impression of having landed in Europe, or Asia, or the Middle East.  At the  Airtrain Tickets kiosque, people struggle to figure out the confusing vending machines.  Although in English, the instructions and options confond native speakers. Even Bill, the public transportatin expert seems flummoxed. I observe the international travelers battling  with the machines and admire their patience.  Fortunately, several  subway agents  show up to assist from time to time.  Eventually, everyone gets sorted, and off they go to enjoy the Big Apple.  Adventures await.

Angelina from Paris in New York City

The next day, I head to Albertine,  972 5th avenue,  a truly amazing French Book Store , the best in the United States.  On the way, a very familiar attractive  shop window grabs my attention. Angelina from Paris here  in  New York City!   Resisting temptation,  I venture on. Suddenly, being in this crowded, bustling, diverse, and sensory overloaded city feels weird. My inner big city woman needs quick  activation. The sunny weather after weeks of damp Oregon also takes some getting used to. For the first time, in weeks , my water proof boots are replaced by street shoes. But I love it all. After repeatedly negotiating crossing busy streets darting out of the way of turning cars and shoulder to shoulder people,  my inner big city woman comes alive and breathes a sigh of relief. I am at home once again  in New York City,  Brooklyn born and raised, and very proud of it.

 

Is Maggy going to Europe or to the beach?

Did we overpack?

  

We are at the beach in a torrential rain storm.  I did manage to walk Maggy and find some food carts near the house. All the dog friendly restaurants closed their patios due to the weather.  Luckily, I brought my salad fixings for lunch and Bill went off to find an Impossible Burger. Unlikely we will starve, but my fantasy of enjoying an outdoor patio dining experience with Maggy is fading fast. 

Where am I?

Mom braved the elements to walk me.

Now Maggy is snoring peacefully. Perhaps she is dreaming of sandy beaches in Tahiti.   In all fairness, We  did promise her a lovely beach walk . Although I explained to her several times that this is the ultimate Oregon beach experience, she is not buying it.  Guess, I will just have to make it up to her in treats. Looks like my next activity will be watching Brothers and Sisters on Hulu. Bill is always asking me why the people in that series are shouting so I shout back that it's a family drama and that is what some families do, especially those on an Oregon beach vacation in the pouring rain.