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!