Tag: French Sabbatical

Perhaps I should have titled today’s post, “A Sign From Above,” given the significance (SIGNificance) of the progress made today on our little neighborhood grocery store’s facelift. The poor store has been virtually nameless for something like two months. No more! We now know where we shop, the U Express!

Also, considering the significance (SIGNificance) of the photo and its supposed thousand word value, I thought about posting nothing but a title and this picture. But I’m just a chatty sort of fella so here I am explaining myself.

Say, if a picture is worth a thousand words and the sign in this picture has 5 words, does that makes this picture worth 1005 words? And do duplicates count (or single letters, like “U”)? Do some photos try to up their word count, like kids in schools working on word-count essays?

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “I wish he’d just posted the photo and a title.”

It was cool, clear and crisp at 8 this morning when I took this picture. I had just arrived at the Hippodrome, the Nantes racetrack, and was making my way across the turf track to the inner track used for the trotters. It’s where I do my running three times each week. I looked to my right and a little steam was rising from the grass. In the morning sun, it was quite beautiful. I held out my cell phone/camera, looked into the sun and snapped this picture. I did not bother counting to three.

That’s the grandstand behind me. It’s hard to believe, I know, but nary a person was there to watch me run. It would have been a good day to watch me, too. I set a new time record today for myself (time, that is, in terms of duration, not speed). I ran 6 laps on the inner part of the trotter track in just over 47 minutes. My goal is to make it in 45 minutes by the end of the month.

To be clear, there are actually three tracks here, two grass and one made of a finely crushed pinkish colored rock. That’s the one I run on. And as I said, it’s the same one that’s used for the trotters. By trotters I mean harness racing, horses pulling drivers in little sulkies. No, I’m not pulling a sulky. I said I RUN, not trot.

We went to see Romain’s basketball team play today, a game that if they won would move them up a level into the premier division next year and secure first place in their league this year. As the headline excitedly announces, they won. Today’s photo is of the opposing team’s center after the game, dejectedly still holding the game ball. You might think that a group of young men, many of whom can dunk, would have an easy time of it against a team headed by this center. But that’s where you’d be wrong.

It was an interesting game, to say the least. Romain’s team hustled out for an early lead, only to see the opposition claw back into it. This pattern existed throughout the game, but the final was clearly one-sided, 80-61. Of interest to basketball purists, the referees, one especially, wanted to make sure their presence was known. They whistled fouls to the point of three players on Romain’s team fouling out. I’ve never seen so many 3-in-the-key calls, lane violations on free throws, and ticky-tack hand check fouls called. At one point I quoted something I once heard my brother say, “I think the referees are being paid by the hour.” I tried to think of how to say this in French but only managed it in English and I think only Chloe heard me. But she laughed and a good chuckle is what counts, right?

Oh, I updated our Kind Living blog earlier today with a story I first considered for this blog, a true story from Monday morning.

…Three! Yes, three. If you look closely at my lips, you can tell that’s what I was saying when I snapped this picture today. Melinda looks ready, but I don’t, which is kind of funny when you know I’m the one counting and taking the picture. But I’ve taken so many pictures in France where I think everyone is ready, only to have someone complain that they weren’t, that I’ve taken to counting and snapping the picture on three. Problem is, when I’m in the picture and counting to three, and snapping on three, I get this result. I know, it’s all so complicated. Or at least I’m just making it out that way.

I could simplify things, perhaps. Keep my 1, 2, 3 thing going and snap a half beat later or something. But then I wonder if it truly would simplify things. What if Melinda or one of the girls looked away in that half beat, thinking I had snapped on three. I guess I’ll have to stay up late again trying to figure it all out.

Who knew counting to three could be so hard!?

Christine, who has been learning all about our Kind Living launch in her every-other-day workouts with Melinda, suggested she and Bernard come over tonight with a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Today’s photo commemorates the toast and acknowledges Kind Living, something we’ve literally put hours and hours into getting started (don’t worry, it’s all been fun). Go take a look at our website, designed by Melinda. And especially go read the first entry on our Kind Living blog (spoiler alert – it’s about Melinda and me).

Now regarding that fish reference in the title, April Fool’s Day in France is called Le Poisson d’Avril (yup, The Fish of April). Apparently, the schoolyard joke here is to tape paper fish to people’s backs. And rumor has it that the whole concept of pulling pranks originated in France so this is the real deal stuff. Still, I think the PSCS staff pulled off a pretty good April Fool’s prank today. Jimmy Carter. Girls basketball team. Multibillionaire. Funny stuff.

I found this in the frozen food section at Leclerc yesterday and couldn’t resist trying it. To be honest, it’s sitting on the counter right now, just as you see it in this picture, thawing. You see, I’ve REALLY been missing sushi lately. There are several Japanese/sushi restaurants in Nantes, but Melinda has been hesitant to go in to those that look the most promising. We tried a “Blue C Sushi”-like restaurant in the mall I refer to as Bellevue Square, but the fish wasn’t very good (on the other hand, the conveyor belt system there is pretty darn slick, involving magnets or something that makes the plates magically revolve). And I bought an offer on Groupon for sushi at another lunch-oriented shop and we weren’t impressed by the food there, either. I think this goes a long way to explaining Melinda’s hesitancy.

And anyway, am I in France to eat sushi? Just what am I thinking?

But sushi sounds so good. So much so that I bought frozen sushi. In a box. From the freezer section. Of a huge grocery store chain. I’m about to eat it. If I don’t post tomorrow, assume the worst. Food poisoning.

Speaking of tomorrow, if I survive the sushi, Melinda and I will be launching our Kind Living project. The newsletter goes out around 10am Nantes times (that’s 1am in Seattle – the rest of you time-zoned people can do your own math). To make sure you receive it, you can sign up here. Note, if you’ve been in a recent kindness class, you’re already signed up.

Back last summer, when we first arrived in France and wanted to make homemade tacos or burritos or anything that might sound remotely Mexican, we had to get creative with spices and get lucky finding tortillas. As an example, when Romain came to visit us when we were in Pornichet last July, the Mexican food stars aligned and I put together a fine taco dinner. He seemed to really enjoy it (or was just being his usual polite self). But I’m thinking he started talking up that Mexican meal. You see, soon thereafter I started seeing “Old El Paso” brand Mexican food kits on the shelves in the large grocery stores. And by “on the shelves,” I mean a single package tucked away somewhere on a bottom shelf. But, hey, it was progress. Now just look at today’s photo, taken about two hours ago at Leclerc! The Old El Paso offerings have spread from the bottom shelf to the top as well as out wide. Mexican food has made it to France (or at least the quick-to-fix store-bought variety for lazy chefs)! Old El Paso even made it to a coveted end aisle display. And of great significance, the brand is now being stocked at our small neighborhood grocery store, the U Express.

Yeah, that’s right. I’m taking the credit (maybe giving a little to Romain).

The work on which I’ve been reporting about our neighborhood grocery store’s exterior remodel continues. On February 15th I referred to this work as a “facelift.” We had no idea how significant of a facelift it would be, nor how long the facelift would take to complete. On February 22nd I talked about the glass-enclosed entrance that had been added. In today’s photo you can see the fancy panels that have been added to either side of the entrance, attached to the vertical posts to which I made reference on March 13th. Melinda suggested this morning that the panels and the posts combine to form a kind of nature scene, something like trees. The posts are trunks and the panels imply leaves. I can see that, but I doubt that you can from this photo. I suggest trusting Melinda, though. She’s pretty sharp when it comes to things like this. In fact, she spotted the installation of some kind of decorative lighting behind the panels. I’ll be sure to get a photo of that and tell you all about it once it’s activated.

I know. Yawn, yawn, yawn. But, hey, it’s interesting to us!

You may recall meeting Alice back in January. She comes over on Monday afternoons for an English lesson with Melinda and me. As you can see, we’ve progressed to the point in learning a language that involves juggling. I think I was out sick during that lesson when I was a kid, but I’m glad to say that didn’t stop us from making sure Alice didn’t miss it.

I asked her what her parents thought of our unconventional English “classes.” Last week’s involved going to a park and kicking, throwing and catching a soccer ball. Another one a couple of weeks back involved watching a short film. Today’s had to do with juggling and playing Go Fish (not at the same time, but, hey, we’ve still got more weeks ahead of us). Anyway, her parents said that she was lucky. I think that meant that juggling beats the heck out of worksheets.

Alice is a quick learner of English, as is undoubtedly obvious from this photo. She picked up juggling fast. No, wait a second. She already knows how to juggle. Today’s lesson involved her trying to teach ME, her explanation being completely in English. That makes more sense. Now I can occasionally juggle (and catch) two balls. As Alice says, “Right, left. Left, right.”

One of the common things Melinda and I find we are saying to each other is some variation of, “Wow, that person was so nice.” I don’t know who started the stereotype / gross generalization that the French are not friendly, but we’ve found the exact opposite to be profoundly true, so much so that we’ve started to think it’s a French government plot designed to keep unfriendly foreigners (i.e. the “ugly American”) away. As Washingtonians (and specifically Seattleites), we are familiar with the friendly conspiracy among residents to keep quiet about the incredible virtues of one’s place of residence for fear too many people will want to move there.

Case in point about friendliness, this Frenchman. He’s dressed as a city worker and was busily taking care of his job duties recently near the Château des ducs de Bretagne. Melinda and I were seated on a nearby bench and had just finished sharing a sandwich when he walked over. He saw that we were holding some trash and graciously offered to take it from us to throw away. This may sound small but it really was remarkable in its thoughtfulness. I could tell similar stories about workers in all kinds of stores, people on the street, neighbors, people to whom we’ve been introduced…