French Word-A-Day

faciliter

Pétanque and potager. Been planting lettuce, kale, and goji berries beside the boules court, turmeric, too! It looks like the Braise and Smokey are busy with a game now... OK, as long as they don't stop for a healthy snack! Click to enlarge photo.

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faciliter (fah-seel-ee-tay)

    : to ease, to make easier

Audio File: listen to the following example sentence Download MP3 or Wav file

Ma mère est là pour faciliter cette transition.
My mom is here to help ease this transition.

 

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A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

One of the reasons I wanted Mom to come visit, the week after we moved to Bandol, was so the kids and I wouldn't be alone while Jean-Marc was away at harvest. (He wanted to help Caroline and Thomas, the new owners of Domaine Rouge-Bleu during their ten day vendange).

The other reason I needed Mom here was for her ability to instantly infuse our new home and our environment with a unique essence: that of family, of love, of timelessness. Once Mom arrived it would be as though we had always been here forever, along with the French and British predecessors of this 19-century mas.

Indeed, as I hear Mom's voice echo throughout the meadow—where she is off on her morning walk with two happy dogs—it is as though I have never left home, whether that be the Arizona desert, where I grew up... or the bustling city of Marseilles, where Mom arrived in time to greet her first grandson... or the quiet village of Les Arcs-sur-Argens, where Jules came to help with the growing family, only to learn that tumors were growing inside of her. Mom literally left a piece of herself in France that time, before returning home to Mexico to have the other breast removed.

From the boules court where I am picking figs....

Figs-hunting with Smokey...

...I spy Mom exploring the ancient restanques and the future vegetable garden. Jules is wearing my old hiking boots and another of her loose ponchos (she never did have the reconstructive surgery, after her mastectomy--and hated those constrictive prosthesis bras which would gradually inch up, finishing the journey by strangling her at the neck! The ponchos and other loose-fitting clothing have become Mom's carefree solution).

I wave from beneath the figuier, shaking a fig at my fellow explorer down below. When Mom sees me she lights up, shaking a discovery or two of her own.

"Look!" Mom shouts, waving an exotic flower "the only one in the meadow". I don't have the heart to tell her that the delicate blue flower grows à gogo in a neighboring field. I watch as Mom returns in time to fill a shot glass with water and place the "rare" blue specimen (a chicory) on my desk. "Honey, always keep flowers on your desk," Mom smiles.

After the flowers, there will be gifts of pine cones ("look at the teethmarks!" Mom enthuses. "I wonder what wild animal was hungry for this one?"), and feathers (Mom loves to stick them in her hat, along with the wildflowers), and intricate leaves, "for your souvenir book," Mom suggests. In the evening I will tuck the leaves and the feathers into my journal, and do a sketch, as Mom suggests, of the little potager garden we are planting. I want to document where I've planted things--in case it all grows out of control! Meantime, lettuce, kale, rhubarb, turmeric, blueberries, gojiberries, beets, verbena, celery, and cilantro are coming up like like morning sun. A brand new day....

After sharing two decades of France with my Mom, I couldn't wait for her to be here to usher us into this next chapter of our lives. Like the opening paragraphs of a great novel, Mom is helping to set the scene of this mysterious and promising new beginning. It is her commencement as well; the start of a new year--her 66th. Happy birthday Mom!

Le Coin Commentaires
To comment on this story--or any item in this post, click here. It is me, or does everyone you know have a birthday or anniversary in September? Click here to leave a birthday wish.

 

Selected French Vocabulary

la pétanque = game of boules. See Herm's poem.

le potager = kitchen garden

boules (f)  = synonym for pétanque

la vendange =  harvest (definition, photo, and story here)

le mas = country farmhouse

une restanque = a support wall made of stones

à gogo = galore, in great quantity

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Some family photos for you. There's Mom, outside with Max. Inside, that's my mother-in-law, Michèle-France, and 15-year-old Jackie.

Jean-Marc, Michèle-France, Jackie, and me.

Jules, Max, Jacques, Michèle-France, Jackie, and Jean-Marc, before serving Jackie's birthday cake.

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My brother-in-law, Jacques.

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laisse

From Mexico to France. Mom, out walking Smokey R. Dokey along the boardwalk in St. Cyr-sur-Mer. Following our big move south, the dog leashes are still packed.... I know they're around here, somewhere. For our Sunday stroll by the sea, belts doubled as dog laisses, or leashes. (I thought to use the belts on our bathrobes, but 14-year-old Jackie said something like, "la honte!" (or how humiliating to been seen walking the dogs... with the help of terry-cloth leashes!)

une laisse (less)

    : leash

Example Sentence:

Merci de tenir vos chiens en laisse.
Please keep your dogs under control by using a leash.

A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

After I finished setting up Mom's room, I stood back and had a look at the overall effect. The scene looked uncannily like that of my childhood salon, where Mom had her bookcases, a low-lying canapé, and all her favorite babioles. It is funny how we sometimes recreate, if unconsciously, cozy corners of the past. Do you think Mom will be snug and comfortable here? I put out a fresh bowl of fruit, to sweeten things.

Mom's room will revert to my office, in three week's time , when Jules returns to Mexico. Not thinking about that, now....

I'm a little slow going these days. Adjustment blues. In the kitchen I turn in circles... when suddenly there's a rap on the window. It's Mom--absolutely brimming with enthusiasm I LOVE YOUR HOME! I LOVE YOUR HOME! Mom's mood is contagious and I can't help but break out in one great smile. 

We were on our way to the la pépinière, to buy more mulch and some dill that I wanted to plant--when we got off track and ended up at the chair brocante's... we found two powder blue crapauds anglais--those cozy English chairs that one sips tea in while eating finger sandwiches (just a wild guess). "Mom, we can't drag those home." Mom: Sure we can! And so we did.

"Always keep a deck of cards out," Mom suggests. "It will liven up this corner." Mom is right, that petit coin was a little sleepy before that deck came out!

Meantime... Donne la patte. Gimme your paw, Smokey! Mom trains our golden. (Side note: see the room beyond? That's the  TV room. You can just spot one of Mom's paintings. It has already moved. We're just trying things out, Mom says, rearranging paintings, bibelots, and the rest. We're also trying out the powder blue chairs--but are considering making covers for them (Jean-Marc doesn't like the color).

 

 Mom and I take a break from decorating, and head upstairs (just past the TV room) to my bedroom. There's a balcony there... convenient for reaching the tree top! I pick a couple of figs for la goûter.

Mom eats les figues... washing them down with Bandol rosé! (The wonderful black recliner belonged to Maggie's father, a Scottish man, who moved into this mas in the 60's. See a photo of Maggie and Mike, who sold us their home, here). Maggie's father loved this chair. I hope he would be pleased to know Mom loves it, too. It has wheels! I'm just waiting for Mom to ask me to push her around--wheee! (The answer is non!--those wheels are not for racing.)

Jean-Marc says the crapauds are comfortable. Now I won't worry anymore about the spontaneous purchase. How much do you think the old chairs cost? Leave your best guess here, in the comments box.

Outside the cabanon de cochon, Jules is giving Smokey etiquette lessons. Mom can't speak French, but she's learned a few commands:

donne la patte (gimme your paw)
assis! = sit
couché = lie down
là-bas! = scram! (literally "(go over there!")

 

Jackie, left, missing her friends back in Sainte Cécile. Grandma Jules offers a sympathetic oreille...

Jean-Marc and Jules look at boats. The colorful ones, there, are known as "pointus"--they are the classic fishing vessels of yesteryear. Perfect for catching daurade or loup... but not so practical should you want to cruise over to the islands of Frioul. Do you want to visit the island of Frioul? Pack a picnic... throw in the anchor... go for a swim among the rocky island coast....

 

Voilà. It's time for me to think about lunch, then pick up Jackie to share it with. Au fait, here she is with Grandma Jules, shopping in Sanary-sur-Mer. Jackie didn't end up with the mustard yellow vest, but it sure looked cool on her! We didn't buy anything (on a fait du lèche-vitrines), but gathered ideas for her upcoming 15th birthday, on September 18th!

If you are new to this word journal, bienvenue! You can read more about Jules and Jackie and our Franco-American family in the books Words in a French Life and Blossoming in Provence. Thanks for reading!

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French Vocabulary

le salon = living room

le canapé = sofa

le canapé-lit = sofa-bed

la babiole = knick-knack

la pépinière = plant nursery

le crapaud = toad 

le fauteuil crapaud = squat armchair

la brocante = second-hand shop

le petit coin = small corner (also toilet room)

la goûter = snack time

le cabanon = stone Provencal hut

le cochon = pig

une oreille = ear

la daurade = sea bream

le loup de mer = sea perch 

voilà = so there you have it

on a fait du lèche-vitrines = we went window shopping (literally "we licked windows")

au fait = by the way

bienvenue! = welcome!

ça y est = that's it

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Ça y est. Jackie is the tallest female in our house! To comment on any of the photos or items in this edition, thanks for using this link.

Mom got the cool belt-leash (the leather one, with fringe. I got stuck with the nerdy one--that looks like a tie... trying to look like a belt... trying to look like a leash.)

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muse

Who (or what) is your muse? For me it can be a scene, like this one... and suddenly inspiration comes! Photo taken in Les Arcs-sur-Argens, where we lived from 1999-2007.

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I tried to find a French synonym for une muse, but I landed on a French definition instead. Here it is, along with the day's story, written two summers ago:

une muse (myooz)

    : une source d'inspiration pour un écrivain, un poéte, ou une artiste 

Audio File: Listen to Jean-Marc pronounce the definition to muse: Download MP3 or Wav file

la muse verte = absinthe (the drink that is said to have inspired 19 Century writers)
invoquer sa muse = to call on one's muse
courtiser les muses = to court the muses
taquiner la muse = literally to tease the muse (to give a go at poetry)
les muses = The nine Muses

un musée = museum (from the Greek mousaion, or "a seat or shrine of the muses")

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A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

Last night I dialed up Mexico and listened as Jules picked up the phone at the other end of the jungle. I felt grateful to hear my mom's voice and immediately asked whether she would like to hear about the fictional nouvelle that I had begun.  

Mom was game. Only, as I heard myself recount the historiette (involving a senile goat that wears recycled espadrilles), I realized—before Mom even suggested it—that I still wasn't addressing the muse... or was it that the muse wasn't addressing me?... or rather neither of us was addressing but rather a-skirting. Quite simply put, we were, both of us, the muse and I, conveniently and once again skirting the heart's history. Whether or not skirts were involved is beside the point. Let's see, is there a point?

"I think you use humor to deflect," Mom pointed out, in so many mom-wise words. "Underneath the guise of comedy, lie your profound stories." 

I offered a few mumbly yah-yahs and you're right about thats. Mom was unconvinced. That is when she reminded me of a line she had just heard in a movie, words that stirred her heart, and maybe they would stir up my own in time to share a few true lines. 

"You are God's muse"

 "You are God's muse," Mom said, quoting the film. She left enough silence for the words to find feeling in my mind. We are God's muse.... 

Later that night, after the house had fallen to sleep, I reluctantly put my espadrille-shoed chèvre aside. I reassured myself that the story could be told another time. Next, I thought of Mom's words:

"Remember, you are God's muse. Just fire up that computer, put your hands over that keyboard and LET IT RIP!"

I opened a new window on my computer screen. I took a sip of coffee, staring for a thoughtful while at the proverbial blank page. Finally, I typed in the title of my story. My throat tightened followed by a stinging in the eyes. Closing them, I felt wet lashes.

I looked up at what I had typed: only a word, no more than a title. It read, Naked. 

Next, I closed the word document and shut off the computer. I walked down the quiet hall to the bedroom, where I changed into my pajamas. I can't sleep without them.

 

   

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French Vocabulary

la nouvelle = short story

la historiette = anecdote, short story

la chèvre = she goat

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casse-tete

Jean-Marc's latest pastime. Read on in today's story column.

un casse-tête (kass tet)

    : jigsaw puzzle, brainteaser
    : difficult problem, headache 

Note: un casse-tête is a synonym for puzzle. The French more often call a puzzle "un puzzle" or "un jeu de patience".

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Audio File: listen to Jean-Marc read today's word and the following example sentence: Download MP3 or Wav file

Les premiers puzzles se faisaient en peignant une image sur la surface d'une fine planche de bois que l'on découpait ensuite à l'aide d'une scie à chantourner... le mot anglais "puzzle" signifiant d'une façon générale une énigme ou un casse-tête. The first puzzles were made by painting an image on the surface of a thin wooden board that was then cut with help of a jig saw... The English word "puzzle" means, generally speaking, an enigma or a brainteaser. —fr.wikipedia.org

 

A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

There is nothing so soothing as watching an overworked man piece together a jigsaw puzzle. Sitting quietly beside the crackling fire, a puzzle piece held gently between rough, calloused fingers, my husband is lost in concentration. I have had the chance to observe this "pieceful" scene, almost nightly, ever since Jean-Marc cleaned out the cellier, salvaging this old puzzle in the process.

Just outside the window, the rows and rows of grapevines—now leafless, woody, and sleeping like a log—no longer vie for his attention. For a rare moment, Jean-Marc is at peace.

On the table before him, my husband has laid down one of my mom's largest oil paintings—it appears to be the perfect base on which to construct his scattered oeuvre!

(Jules will not be shocked to learn that her painting currently serves as a foundation—au contraire—she is known to roughhouse with her art: scrubbing down dusty paintings and, sometimes, completely obliterating scenes with a coat of wet paint!

Sometimes Mom forgets her plein air paintings, leaving them out in the rain—only for them to survive, blessed by God's tears, dried by the muse or le Mistral!

Yes, by unwittingly lending her painting as a puzzle support, I think Mom will even be honored to learn that she is participating in this restorative effort, one that has an especially calming effect on her treasured—and tired—beau-fils.)

From the kitchen, where I am putting away dishes, I pause, enjoying the scene of a tired man "puzzling". The scene is restful, even to me. I sit down at the kitchen table to sip a steaming tisane and watch my husband work, this time effortlessly.

Initially, Jean-Marc tried to interest our daughter (owner of the puzzle) to participate with him in this jeu de patience. When Jackie eventually lost interest (or patience?), Jean-Marc continued working on her puzzle without her.

As I observe my husband I am humbled by his appreciation and interest in our daughter's puzzle. Watching him devote all his concentration to the subject, I can't help but feel a little ashamed at an unfair remark I made many years ago, before we broke up for the first time:

The heated scene took place on a busy street in Marseilles and went something like this:

Me: "You are so macho!"
Him (hugely offended): "Je ne suis pas macho! JE NE SUIS PAS MACHO!" 

I can't even remember what the subject was then, but tonight, sitting here sipping my tea, it is hard to contain my smile as the puzzle in the next room begins to come into view, piece by piece....

I now see two fuzzy kittens clinging side by side—innocent and helpless, such a fragile couple!

How sweet to see a big strong man putting together a kitten puzzle! I think, when suddenly my mind returns to the accusatory scene on the busy city street, some twenty years ago.... 

Macho? What was I thinking?! I look over, affectionately, at the puzzle maker and feel a strong sense of gratitude for one man's care and diligence in piecing back together the innocent and fragile couple. It takes puzzle maker's patience. This I know for sure.

 ***

Learn more about our exciting (and rocky...) courtship, in the intro chapter to Words in a French Life. And in the follow-up book, "Blossoming in Provence", a girlfriend-come-wife learns many more lessons in patience!

Le Coin Commentaires
Corrections and comments regarding today's story, or edition, are welcome here, in the comments box. 

French Vocabulary

le cellier = storeroom
une oeuvre = a work (painting, book, film) 
au contraire = on the contrary, just the opposite
plein air = a painting produced outdoors
Mistral = strong wind coming from the north or northwest
le beau-fils = son-in-law
une tisane = herbal tea
un jeu de patience = puzzle 

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The pieces of Nature's puzzle.

The forest from the trees... or the golden retrievers from the berries! Jean-Marc and I enjoyed a walk with the dogs. Along the way, we spotted a bright yellow iris in the brook (into which the dogs had jumped, only to rush out and shower us with a watery shake-off).

Dreaming of coming to France in 2012? Check out these posts for some fun ideas on what to do once you get here:

• What to do in Paris?
• What to do in the Loire Valley? 
• What to do in Aix-en-Provence?
• What to do in Lyon?
• What to do in the Luberon?

And check out Where to Rent a Car in France?

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 Get your copy of Blossoming in Provence at your local bookseller! Send me your stories of any "Blossoming" sightings (at which bookstore did you buy your copy? Thank you for asking the store manager to order a copy!). Meantime, for those living in Vancouver, you can pick up a copy of Blossoming in Provence at Barbara Jo's bookstore:

 

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baratin & baratiner

Does one need to hit the road to sell books on French life? Not when your MOM is busy pounding the pavement! Read on... (photo taken in Briançon). Note: the next word goes out in the new year. Meilleurs Voeux! Bonne Année!

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le baratin (bara-tehn)

    sweet talk, smooth talk

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Also:
baratiner = to sweet-talk somebody, to chat someone up
baratineur, baratineuse = smooth talker 

Audio File: listen to Jean-Marc pronounce these French words (above and below): Download MP3 or Wav File

Pour vendre des livres il faut avoir l'art de baratiner!
To sell books, one must know the art of sweet talk!

 

A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse

The Pick-Up Artist

You know what they say about a good salesman: He or she could vendre de la glace aux esquimaux! This is especially true of my dear mom, Jules, who is busy selling my book on French life to lovers of Spanish! For the past ten days, Jules has made it her mission to convert the tourists who flock to her little neighborhood along the Bay of Banderos, in Mexico.

Dressed in her trademark linen poncho (her latest one, in white, was a Christmas gift from her husband John), a red turtleneck (to match her red Converse tennis shoes), white pants and her trusty fedora, Mom sets out to beat the previous day's sales record.  

Like any saleswoman worth her salt, Mom knows that one of the best ways to market a product is to get out there and pound the pavement! In Mom's charismatic presence, travelers are forgetting for a moment that they are in Puerto Vallarta... when they begin to perceive the hum of the accordion as Mom dances up and down the boardwalk at the marina, picking up yet another potential bookbuyer with her sweet baratin. "Bonjour, Monsieur!...."

Every salesman has a challenge to overcome. In this case, that would be the absence of a tangible product to peddle! This doesn't discourage Mom one bit and, minus an actual copy of Blossoming in Provence, Jules manages to sell the goods "sight unseen", via verbal promissory notes extracted from the innocent tourists. "You will buy my daughter's book when you get home, won't you?! Merci, Madame!..."

Having worn a trail along the docks, Mom heads to The Coffee Cup, where more unsuspecting travelers are having their first cuppa, unaware of the lively scene about to take place.

This is when Jules fires up the computer (The Coffee Cup has three or four of them, reserved for customers), and logs on to Amazon.com.

"Oh, Kristi!" Mom slaps her hands to her heart. "You are at number 31 in Hot New Releases!"

A few of the customers look over, in curiosity. For the sake of drama, Mom grabs onto the sleeve of the customer beside her. "Look! That's my daughter," Mom exclaims, pointing to the screen. "This is the book she published in 21 days--and now it is topping the bestseller charts!" (Like any saleswoman worth her salt, a little bit of exaggeration--or what, in all due respect, we might call "artist's license"--is par for the course!) 

And so it is that my dear mom has spent the past ten days--betting that the Hispanophiles who visit Puerto Vallarta are really Francophiles in waiting. Win or lose, she is certainly selling books in the process!

Thanks, Mom!

Le Coin Commentaires
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See a photo of Mom, her husband John, and me in Puerto Vallarta. Click here and don't miss the story!

If you haven't yet... please click here to purchase your copy of Blossoming in Provence. Many thanks for your support--and for giving my dear mom a day off work today :-) 

 French Expression:

vendre de la glace aux esquimaux = to sell snow to Eskimos
le baratin = smooth talk
Bonjour, Monsieur! = Hello, sir!
Bonjour, Madame = Hello, Ma'am 

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An interesting sculpture in front of the town hall, in Jonquières (Vaucluse)

Dreaming of coming to France in 2012? Check out these posts for some fun ideas on what to do once you get here:

• What to do in Paris?
• What to do in the Loire Valley? 
• What to do in Aix-en-Provence?
• What to do in Lyon?
• What to do in the Luberon?

And check out Where to Rent a Car in France?

Exercises in French Phonics bestseller on French pronunciation and how to pronouce French words correctly! (click here)