Andy Smallman

One tram stop away from our stop is one named “Recteur Schmitt.” Chloe, Melinda and I just returned from there, having made a dash for it in order to transfer to Bus #72 which would have taken us to Manon’s volleyball game tonight. But as our tram was pulling in to the stop on time, there went the 72 pulling away, two minutes early. As a result, we weren’t able to see Manon’s game. The next 72 didn’t arrive for another 35 minutes which would have caused us to miss too much of the game to make the bus ride worthwhile. Bummer!

Heading back home, Chloe and Melinda both commented how much they miss having a car. Melinda mentioned how she’d like to just hop in a car, turn up the heat, and cruise around Nantes tonight. Chloe, who was brought home by car from a Saturday afternoon babysitting job, said how different the city feels from the perspective of a car. Me, I’m not so much missing a car although I do understand what both were saying. It’s so funny to not have driven since before leaving Seattle. That’s almost 7 months!

Back to Recteur Schmitt. Today’s photo was taken from inside the tram as we were pulling into the stop a couple of days ago. It’s an interesting stop. There is a park and ride here, and many connections to various bus lines. There is also a trade school right next to the stop, meaning lots of young men are typically hanging out here. In other words, there’s a fair amount of smoking and spitting happening. Chloe and I think a group of these guys would make a good-looking band. We call them “Recteur Schmitt & the Drop-Out Boys” and think their first album should be called “Expectorate.”

So here’s Ella, seconds after having taken over the cooking duties from me. She’s sautéing some meatballs with onions, in preparation for the lentils and rice that are about to be added. Such was tonight’s main dinner course, complemented with our favorite baguette (and butter), sliced avocado and a salad.

On the subject of avocado, the word in French is avocat. Interestingly enough, avocat is also French for lawyer. There are no single or double s’s to trip me up, and no r’s for me to roll over. Still, if I’m at the grocery store in France and ask for an avocado, I’m likely going to get some legal advice. And man, there must be some great French jokes about this. I tried translating one from English but it just doesn’t seem to be working. What do you think?

What’s the difference between a good avocado and a great avocado?
A good avocado knows the law. A great avocado knows the judge.

See what I mean?

Ah, anyway… Ella and I made the dinner, and Laura, whose English lesson had just finished, stayed. Chloe is babysitting so we saw it as a kind of trade. I’m not going to say who got the best end of that deal as doing so may incriminate me. And we ate all the lawyers in the house with our dinner.

This picture was taken just a few minutes ago as Ella and I were walking home after her school day. She gets out at 5:10 on most days, including Thursdays, and my schedule allows me to meet her at the school gate. We considered whether to ride the tram home or walk. Ella wanted to walk, although I admit to having been willing to take the tram. It’s very cold today, with a significant wind blowing. It’s the kind of wind that cuts right through you. We were just entering the park next to the Hippodrome when I took this picture, about a third of the way home. Surrounded by trees, the wind wasn’t so bad here, thank goodness.

On the walk, Ella told me about parts of her day. Her “relaxed” class continued to watch the movie “Twilight.” She had a hamburger, something resembling french fries, and a chocolate cream something-or-other for lunch. It was very cold on the water for her rowing, so much so that when a friend’s hands got cold the teacher suggested putting them in the river to warm them. At the rowing club one of the instructors couldn’t remember Ella’s name and just called her “Washington,” a reference to the University of Washington sweatshirt she was wearing.

In a class tomorrow Ella will be reading “The Little Prince.” We picked up a copy in French and another in English so she is well-prepared. Add in that she was in a class at PSCS last year in which the French version was read out loud and then explained in English, she is feeling even more ready. Thanks, Judy!

Father forgive me. I have a problem similar to one many young American students have, the one having to do with confusing the spelling of desert and dessert. Well, actually, I can do that just fine in English. In fact, I can do it just fine in French (get this, it’s “désert” and “dessert”). My problem has to do with PRONOUNCING the two words in French. Apparently, I often am referring to the hot, sandy place when what I really want is some kind of delicious French chocolate pudding… If I could, I’d try some funny way to demonstrate the sound of the two words but I just don’t think Mr T can pronounce them correctly, either.

Now that I’ve made my confession I can move on.

Wednesday afternoons could be a nice family affair over the next couple of months. As you may remember, Ella gets out of school at noon for the day. And now Chloe, who resumed classes at the University of Nantes on Monday, also gets out at noon on Wednesdays. To celebrate the occasion today, we went into town for a family lunch. The girls enjoyed pizzas. By the way, Chloe loves the thin European crust while Ella is adjusting (she misses Zeke’s in our neighborhood back home in Seattle). And it’s interesting that pizzas are brought to your table unsliced, just a plate of uncut pizza. The girls also ordered dessert (the sweet treat, not the hot, sandy place). No surprise there. What was surprising is they (read: Chloe) let me take their picture to post on the blog.

PS – One more confession. At lunch today I wanted to order a bottle of bubbly water, Pellegrino, in fact. On the menu they listed two choices, 50cl and 100cl. Since Chloe wanted some, too, I thought I’d order the 100cl bottle. The server kind of giggled at me after I ordered and then explained that what I actually requested was 100 bottles. Thankfully, she only brought one. That didn’t stop the girls from singing 100 bottles of Pellegrino on the wall…

Melinda and I had our daytime Tuesday date today and decided to head out on the bus to the town of Carquefou. Carquefou is northeast of Nantes and it took us about 50 minutes to get there, counting from the moment we left home until we got off the second of our two buses. I’m not exactly sure how to pronounce Carquefou, although I think I have a pretty good idea. To give you an idea, I think Mr. T would say it something like, “I pity the Car – Keh – FOO!”

I took this picture of Melinda and me soon after our arrival and as we were wandering around looking for a lunch spot. The sun was high in the sky and it was quite beautiful, albeit a little chilly. We settled on a cute little crêperie and were pleased with the meal, especially the salted caramel crêpes we had for dessert. Yum! After lunch, we decided to head back home and get in some grocery shopping. The timing of the ride back was amazing. We caught our first bus just outside of town and then hopped off at our transfer spot just as our next bus was arriving. We decided to come back a different way, one involving our beloved Ligne 2 of the tram. Just as we got to that transfer spot, the tram was arriving. All in all, we got back home in about 40 minutes, the timing being so good.

On the subject of connections, in one of her classes at school today Ella and her classmates began watching the movie “Twilight” in English. This class is by far her most laid-back and is presented in English, thereby providing the French students more practice. They’d been reading about vampires and the teacher thought “Twilight” would be a fun complement. Imagine Ella’s delight. She said one of the other kids picked up on the fact that the movie is set in Washington State and gave her a glance. I think the only thing that would have given her more clout in that class today is if she herself was a vampire!

So this photo is actually a few weeks old. I took it the last time I went with Melinda to Ikea and it’s part of a stash of pictures I keep in the event I didn’t get something I wanted to post on the blog on a given day. So I admit to reaching into my stash to get this picture. Deal with it.

That’s not to say that this photo isn’t a good one. It’s a picture of a line painted on the floor in the customer service center at Ikea. You are supposed to stay behind it while the person ahead of you is talking to a customer service representative. We certainly don’t want anyone eavesdropping in about the Ikea plates you are trying to return or your explanation that you somehow bought three packages of wooden spoons when you only wanted two. As is painted on the floor, “Thank you for respecting the privacy line.”

This got me thinking where else there should be privacy lines. Certainly, when using a urinal in a public bathroom (come to think of it, that should be an oval of privacy). When buying underwear at a department store, for sure. Perhaps when buying personal care products in the drugstore. It may be going too far to request a privacy line when buying toilet paper at the grocery store, though.

The title of today’s post is taken from the last line of the poem by A.A. Milne entitled “If I Were King.” Given our locale, the lines, “If only I were King of France, I wouldn’t brush my hair for aunts” seem somewhat apt. Not that I have a lot of hair to brush, nor have any of my aunts ever seemed terribly concerned about its messiness level.

I thought about calling this post “King of Nothing,” a reference to the classic 70’s song by Seals & Crofts, given that expression is a more accurate representation of my particular kingdom. But the exclamation in the Milne poem is more to my liking.

I could have explained that we were invited today to the Boudeaus for a Galette des Rois and that Chloe got the fève, thus making her the queen. Frédérique presented her with the obligatory crown and insisted she put it on. I took three pictures of Chloe wearing the crown, none of which she felt were blog-worthy. Go figure. Instead, she snatched the camera from me and handed me the crown to wear, saying something like, “Let me take YOUR picture!”

I hope everything is made clear now.

This has been one of those classic Saturdays, the kind I treasure from my youth. Nothing significant was scheduled or planned, meaning the day began with no requirement to get up at a certain time. I still got up just after 8, but not having to be anywhere or go any place or do anything made it feel so relaxing. As the day unfolded, Melinda and I went for a 35 minute walk that included one circuit around the trotter track at the Hippodrome in the early afternoon sun. I rode the tram to and from Commerce with Chloe, going with her to look at English textbooks in a couple of bookstores. She starts an English tutoring session on Tuesday evening with a 10 year-old and asked for my help in reviewing some books. Given her student is a hockey player, I suggested she play some street hockey with him and have the conversation be all in English, but she’s leaning to do something more formal. On our way home we stopped at the grocery store and picked up fixin’s for homemade cheeseburgers for Chloe and Ella tonight (Melinda and I are heading to Bernard’s & Christine’s for dinner). Since getting home, Melinda and I have been listening to various episodes of the Piano Jazz podcast. I’ve been organizing my iTunes Library, too.

Other items of note today: Ella spent the afternoon ice skating with a couple of friends. They had to exit the ice because there is a hockey game tonight. I asked her if she got to see any of the players but she said no. Also, after months of having trouble with our cable TV reception, yesterday we got a new converter box. Chloe and I spent a little time today examining the dozens of channels we now receive. Among them is MTV, which Chloe was enjoying late this afternoon. I took this picture of the TV while Chloe was watching a program called “Made.” It’s overdubbed in French and Chloe was quite pleased to not only see a program she likes, but to understand the French.

That’s been about it. A Saturday in France.

Meet Laura (our next door neighbor and the girl on the right) and her good friend Ariane. Melinda and I have been providing Laura an opportunity to practice conversational English every Friday and the last two weeks she’s brought along Ariane. Wow, what nice kids. Given how much I enjoy teaching and teenagers, it’s no surprise that this is a fun activity for me, hence the title of today’s post (if you don’t know, a “Busman’s Holiday” refers to a person on vacation engaging in an activity similar to what he does for a living).

I had to provide today’s lesson by myself as Melinda accompanied Chloe to a new babysitting job some distance from our house. Laura, who is a fan of the TV show “Desperate Housewives” and who has learned a fair amount of English from it, will be traveling to Washington D.C. in February and wants to get in as much English practice as she can. Today we focused on various slang terms, Laura having asked me to help her understand the more idiomatic uses of words like “puke” and “kick.” She heard them on “Desperate Housewives” but didn’t understand them in that context; you know, “you make me puke” and “I’m going to kick your a$$.” I suggested that “hurl” may be a more common term than “puke” for someone her age, but cautioned her to be careful with its use. Regarding “kick,” I provided multiple definitions that concluded with her saying, “I get a kick out of the TV show ‘Desperate Housewives.'”

The girls also got to experience nachos, we talked about the importance of the phrase “trick or treat” on Halloween, and I explained multiple uses of the word “plug.” Ariane was so pleased with the nachos that she said to me as they were leaving, “I will do Nachos at my house.” Nice.

Melinda and I just got back from a little afternoon excursion. We try to get out of the house and do something together every day, even if it’s just a trip to the grocery store. That may sound quaint or obvious, but it’s an important part of our sabbatical. What it lends itself to us doing is having some good conversations. Melinda is quite intelligent and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. For instance, we were comparing our hand size today. Ours, both the rights and the lefts, are pretty much the same size, mine being quite small, like my maternal grandfather’s. Anyway, looking at me a little sideways and with raised eyebrows, Melinda said, “You know what they say. ‘Small hands…'” And there she paused for effect before delivering the laugh-out-loud line with an affirmative nod, “Small gloves.” Trust me. It was funny.

So what got us on the subject of our hands had to do with hers being cold and me trying to warm them. Our excursion today was to head to the river to see if we could watch Ella’s rowing class. When we got to the rowing club, the students were nowhere to be found. But the sun had gone behind a cloud and the wind along the river had whipped up, making all of Melinda, not just her hands, cold. So rather than waiting to see if the students would appear, we explored a nearby neighborhood on foot on our way back to the tram.

Speaking of the tram, today’s title is referring to Melinda’s latest adventure, knitting! And she has found that riding the tram affords her the perfect opportunity to knit. I think our neighbors are all getting a further chuckle out of this. Not only do we go to the grocery store with our caddies, now Melinda is knitting on the tram. What’s next? Walking canes?