blueVicar

Today while enjoying our annual pomegranate, it came to me how similar they were to cranberries, at least both are tart and red. And it occurred to me that both present a challenge to the first time eater. For example, I thought that if I did not have previous knowledge of a pomegranate, I might try to eat the white pithy inside and throw away the seeds. Surely I wouldn’t find it very fulfilling!

And cranberries, while full of potential, don’t offer much as a grab-a-handful-and-munch kind of fruit. If you didn’t know that they are better cooked with lots of sugar, the first bite might put you off of them for life. I wonder how many experimenters in lands where cranberries don’t grow have purchased them in our now international markets, gotten them home and been disappointed that they are seemingly inedible? Surely if they go to the trouble to buy them, they do a little research?

They do seem similar to me, though…and I’d never noticed it before. What do you think?

The other day in the grocery store I heard French spoken three times. I was so amazed and thrilled that I inserted myself into each conversation uninvited. It was impossible to resist!

The first was a man who had shown J and me an apartment he had to rent in Boulder when we first arrived back from France. He was carrying on a political discussion with the butcher, a native Frenchman, when I overheard them. My French was horrible…limited vocabulary, terrible accent, atrocious grammar…just like when we lived on the Riviera! But my heart soared with enthusiasm to try so I butted in and started chatting away.

The second conversation was between the same butcher and a lady shopper telling him about her French speaking class. He was very kind and encouraging to her. She later told me that “his accent is perfect!” Yes indeedy; that’s what growing up there will do for you!

An the third, well I engaged the butcher at the meat counter myself initiating the discussion in French about the salmon. As with the other lady, he was kind and patient.

Oh la la…it was a good day à le marché!

Do you ever hear French in unexpected places?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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This Is My Song
Lloyd Stone, 1934
melody, Finlandia

This is my song, Oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my sacred shrine.
But other hearts in other lands are beating,
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
And sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine.
But other lands have sunlight too and clover,
And skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
Oh hear my song, oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for their land and for mine.

May truth and freedom come to every nation
May peace abound where strife has raged so long;
That each may seek to love and build together,
A world united, righting every wrong.
A world united in its love for freedom,
Proclaiming peace together in one song.

We sang this song at the Interfaith Service I attended in Boulder last night. I remembered the many times when in France I wondered why the sky was bluer on the Riviera than anywhere else on Earth. But since I’ve returned to the USA I often look up and think that it’s mighty blue here as well.

May there be peace in all the lands. Blessings to one and all as we remember to give thanks for what we have.

Anne

Thanks to the memory jog by my blogging pal, CL, I’m thinking about my first Beaujolais day in Antibes, especially the the last stroll around town…what an international, “it’s a small world” night!

What do you remember?

Happy Halloween to one and all!!

It’s pumpkin season again. This year not only are the orange globes available for home decoration and busy cooks, white pumpkins seem the rage. When I passed the pumpkin patch of the grocery store the other day (a concrete covered area just off of the parking lot strewn with straw), about half of the offerings were stark white. I looked back thinking the glare of the sun was interfering with my perception, but there they were, white pumpkins. They looked ghostly to be sure, sort of creepy, sort of like they forgot their pumpkin suits.

Later that night thumbing through a magazine, I saw that not only were natural white pumpkins being touted as options to jazz up the front of your house but the suggestion was to take white shoe polish to add a missing luster or sheen to your regular old orange fruits. It would serve as kind of patina of ghostliness.

I couldn’t help but wonder what our French friends would say to these new fangled ideas. Those folks weren’t too excited about the idea of pumpkins generally speaking. Oh, pumpkin soup was okay, but forget the idea of anything sweet like pumpkin bread or pumpkin pie. I twice tried to encourage a taste for pumpkin pie among our dinner party crowd. The first time my offering was met with polite condescension; everyone tasted about a teaspoon of the filling and smilingly refused more. The second time I was subjected to open ridicule as if I had chosen to make the dessert pie out of some obvious savory produce like chard or onions. We all knew each other better by then, but I still was shocked by the lack of interest in “new and different” since I consider the French palette much more extensive and diverse than those of Americans.

Pumpkins remind me that the seasonal food options of France make the cycles of the year feel real. For example, it should be just about time for the chestnut festival. Then will come the series of specialties over Christmas and the New Year. The time of the year can be pinpointed by what you find at les marchés, boulangeries, et pâtisseries.

Yesterday I finished Barbara Kingsolver’s, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. (You can read more about the book, its recipes and sources here.) She describes the year she and her family spent trying to eat homegrown foods enhanced by a few local additions. It is inspiring and reminds me much more of the culinary experience of southern France than the Front Range of Colorado.

So I’m wondering if I should send over to the Riviera the decorating tips for Halloween 2008. How would the idea of white pumpkins be received? Maybe pretty well if they aren’t baked into a pie…

What would white pumpkin pie look like?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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This week I took K to the mall to see if a local store carried a jacket that she wanted to wear for Halloween. It’s not a mainstream store; it’s full of goth, emo, and a host of extreme attire.

She found what she was looking for and while she wandered the aisles, I examined the jacket. As I stood at the counter admiring the deep purple lining and the finished construction, a sales guy ambled up and stood next me. He was bald except for toot of hair that stuck out from the right side of his head. He had tattoos Continue reading »

Today I attended a Free Writers group and was given the prompt, “Someone you met recently.” Here are my jottings…

K and I decided to go out to the place just to look around. We hadn’t visited there since long before we left for France and it had changed a lot. Everything was new and clean and BIG!! Swarms of people roamed around looking excited and enthusiastic. We joined their ranks and received permission to enter. We walked around inside slowly gazing at the faces. Finally, we decided to get someone to accompany us into one of the small rooms where we sat down on the floor and waited.

I was looking elsewhere when K suddenly jabbed me in the arm, “Mama! Look at him! Isn’t he handsome?” And he was. Medium build, big bright green eyes, black hair that was longish, but not shaggy. He held himself with aplomb. Seeing us, he strolled over in our direction, not too quickly but with purpose. K and I didn’t want to be overly anxious so we waited to see what would happen. As he got closer, I could wait no longer, “Hi, beautiful” I said, holding out my hand to him.

He sniffed my fingers then rubbed his face on my palm walking so that his body passed under my hand. I was thrilled.

He was a gorgeous cat and came home with us that day from the Humane Society. We are all adapting well.

Could we have done this in France?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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Conversation overheard outside of American high school classroom:

Before we go in, tell me: Do my eyes look better like this?

Or like this?

Well?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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Yesterday I went for my annual exam and I did it again: “When I was in France…” came out of my mouth at least four or five times. People here are surely tired of hearing it, but I find it so difficult not to say…and especially about health care! Visits to the doctor there and here are two completely different experiences. I’m going to resist the temptation to write them here (again), but just say that the sticker shock alone was enough to cause a cardiac event. The visit cost over $300 without labs or additional procedures here and the same services cost about 60 euros in France last spring.

I am seriously considering visiting France for any necessary medical procedures and paying out of pocket. I would get excellent care AND a trip back. Is that crazy?

Crossing borders for care…pro or con?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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Among my fond memories of Nice are the dogs. I loved seeing them live and work alongside their humans. Well-behaved, the four-legged pals showed up nearly everywhere from the market to church. Most were small to medium with only a few large and brutish, all on leads with varying responsiveness to voice or other audible instruction.

Yesterday I met a woman who was hoping to get a “green tag” for her dog here in Boulder. “What, may I ask, is a green tag?” queried me, dog-less and not knowledgeable of such matters. “Oh, if you are willing to pay and state that your dog will respond to you when off the leash, then you get a green tag and in certain places he can run free. But rangers patrol the areas and you can get in trouble if your dog isn’t really under voice control.”

Isn’t that interesting? So I went to the City of Boulder web site and read about these green tags, officially called the “Sight and Voice Tag Program.” It costs $15 for a dog and buying one says that you watched the video that describes specific acceptable behaviors on certain trails.

It wasn’t long into the video taken mostly along the trails in Boulder Open Space that I started to think of the dogs in Nice. Continue reading »

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In the cool light of dawn the truck arrived and picked up two cages filled with agitated fur balls. We had heard them in the night peeping and squawking, and thought they were in the dumpster again. But no, they were caught in official metal cages by the pest control guys and are now being transported to who-knows-where. They looked feisty when the men lifted the cages into the back of the truck.

Hope you find a good home, raccoons. We remember you well.

Seen any men in a truck make a pick up lately around your place?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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The other day Polly sent me a link to a story by Alan Paul about expats “going home.” Oh, what sweet, sweet words!

I started the article wondering if the experiences of others who had moved back to their home countries would be at all like what we have had. It was amazing just how similar they were.

In particular I resonated with this comment: “”Going home is harder than going abroad. Life in a new culture is like living 24/7 with a super-heightened sense of awareness. Returning to the States is not really a return to reality — it’s a return to a life that runs for the most part on auto-pilot. It will never stimulate like living abroad did.” I feel like this every day. Every day.

Continue reading »

While not a giant, this little fellow certainly was tasty! My tiny garden has been slow to catch on but we’ve been watering it diligently and have finally gotten a couple of fruits for our labors. I am hopeful that there will be quite a few of these yummy nuggets (even larger, perhaps). The herbs have really taken hold and we’re enjoying them on practically everything.

What are you finding in your garden these days?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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Are there raccoons in France? Europe? We sure have them in Boulder!!

These guys like to visit the dumpster down the street from us but need help getting out. One of our friendly neighbors keeps a board for a passerby who hears the animal distress calls to stick in the big metal container allowing the masked bandits to climb up and hop out. They have little fear as they make their escape, but this crew seemed a little disoriented so I had time to click a few blurry photos. Some say raccoons are fierce if cornered and they can carry rabies…that’s why I carried a broom while this process was going on. (Good thing there is no photo of me.)

Have you had any surprise visitors lately?

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Remember, the madeleine is here to serve as a stimulus for you to write…right here, right now. Your jotting doesn’t have to be long…and you can write as many jottings on this topic as you would like. Just click below on “jottings” (they work like comments) to get to the entry box to post your writings. You can use any HTML characters that you like. Preview your work before submitting; return to the entry box to make any changes you desire before posting.

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Finally! I believe our Internet woes are over and we are restored to our virtual lives. I will write a real post very soon, but I wanted to pass along my good news quickly.

So, what have I missed??

Just a quick update to apologize for being out of touch. Why, I’ve just about missed the entire month of July! We’ve been on holiday visiting family out East. It was a very nice trip, though the weather there offers challenges of humidity. Back in Boulder, the garden thrives thanks to tending by caring neighbors but our Internet is KAPUT. I’ve got to make arrangements for a new connection so until then I will likely be on and off irregularly. Hopefully, it won’t take long.

Worst of all, I haven’t been able to visit other sites so I am painfully out of touch. I suppose it will make reading everyone’s news all the sweeter when virtual life resumes its normal pace.

Meilleurs voeux!!