Tag: French Sabbatical

This afternoon I managed to capture in photo form a mermaid as she emerged from our pool. After careful investigation, I determined that her name is Celeste, she is French, and she is 10 years-old. I understand that her parents are Christine and Bernard, and that she has two older brothers and one younger sister. Their house has been in disarray lately due to a significant remodeling effort taking place (which probably explains why this mermaid was taking a dip in our pool).

Apparently, Celeste is an excellent Monopoly player, can assist American teenagers with their French and in buying cheese at the grocery store, and is a fan of the Twilight series. She has had recent run-ins with a cat and an orthodontist. My observations of her has led me to conclude that she is an exceptionally sweet mermaid, one who is always welcome in our house (and pool). I must admit, however, that in my head I sometimes want to call her Cosette instead of Celeste, despite not catching any glimpses of Jean Valjean. I will keep looking…

By the way, I am turning on the comments feature of the blog so if you want to respond to this or future posts, feel free. I’ve been hesitant to do this, wanting to keep things very simple so let’s look at this as a test.

I like people. I really like nice people. Add in kind and I’m over the top. Remember my French baker girlfriend who told me the pain au chocolat was hot and could burn my tongue? And what a smile.

Well, today I’m introducing you to my latest French hero. She didn’t necessarily save my life but she contributed to it being so much easier than it might have been. You see, a little over a week ago, after regular banking hours, I was using my brand new French credit card in an ATM, trying to make a cash deposit into our French bank account. There were so many things I was trying to do simultaneously that I forgot my card for a minute in the machine. As a safety measure, apparently, if you don’t retrieve your card in a certain amount of time the ATM gobbles it up. And that’s what happened to mine. I was quite upset with myself. We had worked hard to get these cards and they were going to make our lives easier. Now mine was gone and who knows what efforts it would take to get it back.

When the banks next opened I went in to the branch where the ATM was located and was greeted by this young woman with her warm smile. To boot, she speaks English. To boot further, she had my card in an envelope with my name on it on her desk. I could have kissed her (which may not have been that odd here in France, who knows).

Yesterday I went back to the branch on another errand and there she was. Not only did she remember me, she remembered my name. And she has such a nice way of saying Monsieur Smallman. Silly me, I didn’t get her name.

Last night Ella and I went for a walk around the neighborhood. Part of our discussion was about where we should next go on our quest for the best cheeseburger in Nantes. We settled on trying Quick for today’s lunch, clearly a fast food restaurant. Click here for a Google street view of the place we went. If you are savvy enough with your mouse, you can even walk up and down the street. To see the way we arrived (on foot), keep clicking on the right arrow for Rue Crébillon.

The expert ordered a Bacon-Cheeseburger (Melinda wasn’t with us this time). It came with two patties and a longer bun, kind of like a Hoagie roll. It had what looked like Thousand Island dressing-style “secret sauce” along with the patties, cheese and bacon. Ella liked it well enough, would eat another in the future, but said it was really nothing special. The service was excellent, however. The line moved quickly and the young woman who served us was efficient and worked with me on the communication thing.

Those of you in Seattle interested in good burgers should read this article from Crosscut, the online magazine started by David Brewster, formerly of The Weekly. Ella and I chatted about it last night and know we’ll have some catching up to do in Seattle next year..

The house we are living in is truly spectacular. If you’ve followed the blog recently you know it has an outdoor pool (Chloe was making use of this particular feature just a couple of hours ago). But it has more than that. There are 5 bedrooms, all upstairs, 4 of which we have access to, and 4 bathrooms. The living room is quite large and comes with a huge TV. Add in the dining room, kitchen and basement, and it starts to feel like a mansion, making me feel a little like Jed Clampett upon his arrival in Beverly. Hills, that is.

Today’s photo is from the “master bathroom.” I challenge you to make sense of it. To help, let me tell you that there are multiple mirrors and two sinks. And, oh, I took the picture myself by holding the camera away from my body. I decided on the tooth brushing theme to give the photo an action feel, much like those Topps sports cards in the 70’s. You know, “Tommie Agee in Action.”

That’s literally “Street of Peace, ” but you might know it better by its American counterpart, “Boardwalk.” I just a minute ago took this picture of the heated game of Monopoly taking place in our dining room right now. The action is fierce, as Ella moves past Celeste’s properties under the watchful eyes of Chloe and Laura. For those of you keeping score at home, Celeste is Christine’s daughter, a member of the family around the corner remodeling their home (Melinda’s helping install kitchen cabinets today). And Laura is our next door neighborhood, back from vacation with her parents for a few days.

Chloe, um, suggested to me that I point out that she is, um, winning, and that she, um, won last night’s game. So let it be known that I have dutifully reported her, um, suggestion. UPDATE: Chloe goes down as Celeste, age 10, wins!

Want to know what Park Place is called in French Monopoly? Avenue Des Champs-Élysées, of course!

A week or so ago I was having a Skype chat with my mom. She had the new issue of Ode Magazine, which features a two page spread about the online kindness classes I facilitate. I had no idea that the magazine was intending to print such a huge picture of me along with its article. She held it up and seeing it, I joked, “Oh, my. I’m a centerfold!”

Being the good mother that she is, my mom sent me a copy of the magazine which arrived today. Seeing it, I had a similar reaction as I did when she held it up on the screen last week, with some pride tossed in for good measure.

So I present it here as a shameless act of self-promotion, along with a link to my new website, andysmallman.com. And if you are interested in participating in one of the upcoming kindness classes, let me know through my website. To get a taste of a class, here is a summary of what a past participant had to say about her experience.

No, I hear you saying, that’s not a picture of Chloe’s back. That’s a picture of some people’s feet! Okay, okay. Allow me to explain.

We all just returned from the Nantes train station, Melinda, Ella & I having gone there to meet Chloe who spent the last week in Royan. So you see, today’s photo is a close-up of Ella and Melinda as they stood waiting for the arrival of Chloe’s train at the station. The family resemblance is remarkable.

While waiting we discovered we could actually meet the train at its assigned track. This experience took Melinda and me back to the days when you could go all the way to the gate at the airport to meet people when they arrived. We spotted Chloe as the train slowly moved past us and were able to hustle to a spot so we’d be the first people she saw as she got off.

Expect some kind of summary of Chloe’s experience in Royan to show up on her blog. I’m glad she’s back, and that Melinda and Ella have such nice feet.

Earlier this week I was having a conversation with Ella about how to cultivate opportunities in life. One suggestion I like is the “accept every offer” lesson. You learn this in improv and I think it applies to life in general, within reason. If you want to consider this idea further, check out the Presentation Zen blog, one of my favorites.

So I was waiting for the bus relay outside the library today and this man came and sat next to me. He saw I had a Michael Moore DVD in my hands and started up a conversation. We talked about Michael Moore, George Bush (both of them), Charlton Heston, schools, families and more, all in French. He even let me take this picture of us at the bus stop. We sat next to each other on the bus and after hearing my difficulty pronouncing R’s in French (I told him my Ricard story), he invited me over to his house for a pastis tonight. Considering my conversation with Ella, I accepted and just a few minutes ago returned home.

What did I get? I had a lovely 90 minute French immersion lesson with my new friend Michel, his wife, and, for the last 15 minutes or so, his wife’s daughter from her first marriage. They were so, so kind and generous. I told Melinda that I felt a bit like her father, Dwight. One of Dwight’s great gifts in life is to accept offers like this.

So this Ricard is toasted to you, Dwight!

I’ll probably have several posts over the year that make reference to Skype. It’s just really an amazing thing to be able to be in France and have a live-time video conversation with someone in Seattle and it not break the bank. In fact, if you don’t count the Internet costs, it’s free. Who am I, George Jetson?

Today’s photo was actually taken a couple of nights ago when Melinda was chatting with her mom, Michele, on Skype. At about the same time I took a cellphone call from Chloe who is in the midst of spending the week with a group of new French friends in the city of Royan. Chloe & I have spent more time texting than chatting, from which I learned they’ve twice been to a French disco, each time staying quite late. The group is sharing an apartment and the cost of meals, as well as taking turns making them. Man, to be 17 again and in France for a year…

Anyway, Melinda held the cellphone, which was on speakerphone, closer to the computer so Chloe and Michele could say hi to each other. I quickly snapped the picture.

In fact, I took it less than two hours ago. And, yes, that’s Melinda down on all fours working on the installation of a hardwood floor. Next to her is our absolutely lovely neighbor in Nantes, Christine. Christine and her husband Bernard are remodeling their house. Christine happens to be an American (so she speaks English). Start adding things up – around the corner is an American woman remodeling her house. Where else would you expect to find Melinda?

It gets better. Christine’s 13 year-old son, Théo, is at this very moment in the pool with Ella. He goes to the school Ella will be attending and is, in fact, the person who has volunteered to help get her to and from school each day and show her around. And in case you haven’t added it ALL up, given Théo’s mom is American, he, too, is fluent in English.

Yeah, it’s been a pretty good day in Nantes, all things considered.