Tag: France 2023

My dad died yesterday, having suffered a stroke overnight. Due to my mom’s awareness and fast-thinking, he was transported to the emergency room where local family members were able to be with him at the moment he passed away. Melinda & I were able to be with them all, and him, from France via FaceTime.

My dad turned 89 in July and had a marvelous life, including his marriage of nearly 65 years to my mom, raising three sons, being involved & seeing his seven grandchildren become adults, and knowing three great-grandchildren.

And as deaths go, his was pretty good. Having set the table for breakfast on Saturday night for him and my mom, he awoke at around 2am Sunday in a somewhat disoriented state that quickly deteriorated. He left his body less than five hours later. The doctor told us he didn’t suffer.

You could say he had a great life and a good death.

I’m including a few photos below as an initial tribute, captioned for context. And for anyone who’d like to know him a tiny bit better, here are some other times I’ve written about him:

• On My Father’s Shoulders


• 17 April 2020 : Beer With Grandad


• 13 July 2017 : My Old Man


• 7 November 2010 : A Day at the Races

Celeste is the third child of Christine and Bérnard, although she was the first of their children that we met back in 2010 (as memorialized in this post when I thought she was a mermaid). Quite quickly back then, and as the months & years have passed, Celeste came to hold a special place in my heart. Quietly, to her and sometimes her parents, I call her “my favorite French person.”

Back in 2015, Celeste came to stay with Melinda and me in Seattle for over five months. She attended the first semester at Roosevelt High School and lived in Ella’s room while Ella was attending culinary school in Portland.

This year, we weren’t sure if we were going to get to see any of the four Bertail children. All grown, they have their responsibilities to attend and these have currently taken them away from Nantes. Celeste lives and works in Paris, as an example.

So imagine our pleasure at learning that Celeste would be arriving in Nantes this weekend. She is beginning a 3-week vacation that will take her to Italy and decided to have it start by spending time in her childhood home with her parents and saying hello to Melinda and me. The five of us, Christine, Bérnard, Celeste, Melinda, and I, went out to dinner last night and in the process we got to get caught up on Celeste’s life. What a joy this was.

When Celeste was living with us in Seattle in 2015, I joked that I should start a special blog called “The 365 Faces of Celeste.” She is very expressive and extraordinarily photogenic as you can see from these two photos I snapped last night. And below the photos are all the links to the prior posts under this title. I invite you to enjoy getting to know my favorite French person.

3 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste I

5 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste II

6 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste III

15 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste Circa 2010

17 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste Circa 2010 Part II

22 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste (Blue C Sushi)

29 October 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste

27 December 2015 : 365 Faces of Celeste is Back!

5 January 2016 : 365 Faces of Celeste (circa 2011)

So Melinda & I spent most of today out and about in Nantes, just the two of us. Since my beloved tramway line (Ligne 2) is closed for the summer for updates, we had to take bus #26 into town.

After wandering around and stopping at various shops to look for things for our grandson, we got hungry. We started looking for restaurants.

Which would you choose, if you were me:

CHOICE #1:

CHOICE #2:

We actually went with none of the above, opting for a salad bowl.

Last night, Melinda & I took Bérnard & Christine out to dinner as a thank you for hosting us, among other things for which we have supreme gratitude. I wouldn’t usually say how much a dinner out cost, but the fact that it was 143 Euros was profound for me. If you want to know why, please read this post.

As we returned to the car, I snapped this picture:

A few minutes before that, soon after exiting the restaurant, I had taken this picture:

143

I’m also lamenting the death of the brilliant Sinead O’Connor today. Talk about somebody ahead of their time. Learn more in this short essay about her song “Black Boys on Mopeds” from 1990 and then listen to the song below.

Hello Bentsen,

My name is Lupa. Christine and Bernard are my humans. I am a 6-month-old Akita Inu and spend my days teaching them how to give me treats when I do things like sit down and stay in one place. It’s really easy, but I have to make them think that it’s hard.

You may be wondering why I’m wearing this white bandage around my waist (see photos). Well, on Monday I went to the doctor and now, apparently, I’m not going to have interest in having any puppies. Whatever.

I’m ready for a treat.

Oh, sorry, I got distracted for a minute. A neighbor just walked by. How dare they! Who did they think they are? Good thing I’m on the job.

Oh, do you know what “whisper” means? Christine keeps telling that to me right when someone is walking by the house. I’m busy barking loudly to alert her to the danger and then she says, “whisper” and my name. It’s really distracting.

Speaking of distracting, the reason I’m writing is to say happy birthday and I almost forgot. Andy and Melinda who have new smells for me to investigate told me it’s your birthday today.

Can I come you to your party? Can you come to mine? Every day is a party, especially when you get a kong filled with cheese rinds. That’s the best.

Sorry, I got distracted again. Bernard just got home and it’s a lot of fun to tell him how glad I am to see him.

Have a great day, Bentsen. I think I’m going for a walk.

With bites, barks & bisous,

– Lupa

PS – Bentsen, do you know why the humans are so obsessed with poop? They’re always picking up mine. Do they collect it? Sell it on eBay?

Okay, so this post may not be so much about our time in France this summer. Feel free to file a complaint although I learned from my father when I was a child and unsatisfied about something that “The Complaint Department is not open.” Looking back, I don’t think the Complaint Department was ever open.

Perhaps there’s a lesson in there somewhere…

Anyway, after going to bed (in France) last night, I received a series of photo texts from Chloe, the photos all of Rémy in an outfit I bought for him soon before he was born. As you can see in this photo (oh, that’s Rémy’s dad, Alex, in the photo, too), it’s a onesie with the name “Student Nurse” printed on it.

Student Nurse was a Seattle-area band that I appreciated when I was in high school and just after. Learn more here and here. They were founded by John & Helena Rogers, John also going by the name Johnny Rubato. I got to know both Johnny & Helena a little bit because they ran Rubato Records, what was a fabulous used record store that began in downtown Bellevue. Typically, I had to head to the Ave in the U District to shop for used records so having Rubato’s in Bellevue, where I grew up, was a great nearby alternative.

(As a quick aside, this feature from The Stranger, which includes a reference to Rubato Records, is a great read if you appreciate used record stores and the people who work for them.)

Soon before Rémy was born in May, I was listening to some music online and came across the fact that Student Nurse had reunited to play a few dates last year. One click led to another (you know how that is, right?) and I found they had released a retrospective CD, that Helena was painting and selling art (I bought an original of hers of Big Mama Thornton that now hangs in my home office), and that I could purchase some Student Nurse merchandise.

I snatched up this onesie for the soon-to-be-born baby. And yesterday, while going to bed (in France), Chloe sent me pictures of Rémy in the onesie.

If we need to make this even more French-centric to warrant the “France 2023” tag I’ve affixed to this post, here’s Student Nurse and their song “C’est Tout” (French for “that’s all”) from that retrospective CD as posted on YouTube:

PS – Support independent music by buying the retrospective CD on Bandcamp.

So there’s this ongoing joke in my family that when I’m in France I go to the grocery store to buy clothes. And I admit, it’s technically true. I like getting SOME of my clothes at Leclerc, a large grocery store chain in France that is set up like the large Fred Meyer stores we have in the US.

You can get groceries, to be sure, and at decent prices. Both Leclerc and Fred Meyer also sell household goods, even furniture and automotive things. There are sporting goods and electronics.

And, yes, clothes.

So every time we come to France, I make plans to head to Leclerc to check out the latest in men’s fashion. Or, better put, for the bargains that I might be wearing later this year.

Staying at the Bertail’s, and with Melinda hanging out with Christine and with Bérnard at work, I decided I’d walk to the Leclerc where I did most of our family’s grocery shopping during the sabbatical year, the place where I’ve bought quite a few of my clothes over the years.

Now one thing different about this year compared to past years, this time I’m a grandfather. In other words, I never really had reason to look at the baby clothes at Leclerc before now. And, boy, did I look. In fact, I was so taken by the cuteness I saw that I sent a text to Chloe, mother of Rémy, mother of my grandson!

It was about 1pm here in France when I sent the text, what is 4am back in Seattle. And guess what? Chloe was awake, feeding Rémy. She texted me right back:

Spoiler alert – Rémy will have some clothes from the grocery store. Just like me, Grandy, his grandfather.

For those new to Melinda’s and my travels to France, let me just say that the city of Nantes is our second home. We lived here for 13 months in 2010/11 and have traveled back many times since. Some of our closest friends live here. So today, arriving in Nantes is a homecoming of significant sorts for us.

I’m tired as I write this after a short night of sleep and a long day of travel so am hoping the above photo will serve as the main happy announcement of our safe arrival in Nantes. We drove 90 minutes to the Montpellier airport this morning, arriving less than an hour before our scheduled take-off. Then it was a 75 minute flight to Paris, a 50 minute flight to Nantes, and a 25 minute taxi ride to our old neighborhood, the place where we met Christine & Bérnard in 2010 and whose home we now are at.

I walked over to the Hippodrome, one of my happiest places on earth, and snapped this selfie.

Denouement is a fine word to describe the day after a French wedding, I’m thinking. More literally, it’s the final part of a story, the point when all the plot points come together and we can close the book.

That said, I’m not really sure there is such a thing as a “day after” a French wedding, at least not the one in which Melinda & I have been enjoying since Friday. If yesterday’s reception didn’t ever end (word this morning is that Frédérique, Romain’s mom, was still dancing at 6am), and today’s brunch and pool party began at 11am, maybe there is no denouement.

Besides, a wedding is the BEGINNING of a story, not the END.

Melinda & I managed to keep dancing until 3am, at which point we (read: Melinda) drove the 15 minutes to the incredible spot at which we’re staying (well done, Melinda). We slept in until almost 10, before heading back to the venue for today’s brunch, the same spot used for Friday’s white party and yesterday’s reception.

We enjoyed a catered brunch, cooled our feet in the pool, and made a final connection with a number of French friends that have become as important to us as family.

After that, we drove to Avignon, about an hour away, where Melinda spent a semester in college in 1984. We hunted for the home at which she stayed with uncertain success before entering the walled city and enjoying a festival taking place. These two photos of us come from when we stopped to cool off with a glass and a small meal.

Hmmm… considering we head to Nantes tomorrow to reconnect with Christine and Bérnard, denouement is the wrong word for what we’re feeling, for sure.