"Shufflin'" on a summer afternoon

Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me..
And I'm feeling good

Those were the words that my iPod "chose" for me on a recent weekday afternoon as I set out for a stroll in the urban park. It was Muse's slinky version of the old classic. How did Apple's shuffle feature know that it was a perfect blue sky day and the sun was warming my arms to just the right temperature?

I was killing time during the two hours between my lessons in the client's company. It would have been silly to drive back to the center anyway. So I ate my puny sack lunch in the park and then wanted to explore the neighborhood a bit. For two years I've been driving to this place and just admiring the old brick bourgeois houses from my car.

I picked a good day to do it. Kaolin's Partons Vite came on and the happy-go-lucky "la la la" went well with my light gait. The park had a few visitors, a young teen biking and talking on his cell phone, a mom and her two young girls. But the city was already quieter than normal.

We're in the summer vacation period in France where at any given moment it seems like a third of the people are off. With five weeks per year (or eight (!) if you work at a company that has compensation time and a good union to negotiate for you), most French folks take two to three weeks in the summer. Which makes for a much more pleasant drive to work and a quicker visit to the supermarket for those of us who are "left behind". Personally it makes me already feel like I'm off to have less people around.

So it now was the juilletistes' turn to go to the beach or wherever. Yes, les vacances are so sacrées here that there are even specific names for those who take their vacation in July (juilletiste) or August (aoûtiste).

As for my own vacation, I'm half juilletiste, half aoûtiste. Taking next week as there will be so few classes. And one week in August since my company closes anyway. Not sure if I'll really get away anywhere next week though as Remi keeps saying something about needing to borrow a neighbor's tractor to clean up a field for the chyrsanthemums. But I'm determined to do something vacation-like.

I continued my walk up the boulevards and started feeling thirsty. But wasn't that my plan all along? To eat my meager lunch then splurge on a soda? Outkast's Hey Ya accompanied me. I looked for a café or bakery but there were only two gas stations, one across from the other. BP was out 'cause I don't think I need to give those guys any more money considering what they're doing to my gulf coast. So I paid more than I should have for a white chocolate Lion bar (think very crunchy nougaty with white chocolate coating, a bit too hard for my taste) and started my walk back to the company. So in the end my love for chocolate won over my thirst.

As I still had time to kill (two hours is long, people), I sat down on a park bench again and did a little people-watching. Then I mosied on back to the company for my afternoon lesson, rested by my mini-vacation within my work day. All in all a pretty pleasant way to spend a few hours.

Cleanliness and phone girl

What I really love is to take my little pink washcloth and wipe a surface down. And this cheesy background music from the A-Team so inspires me.




Since I still don't have a cell phone, this digital thermometer will do. I'm talking to my babysitter and saying "yeah yeah" to show her I'm listening.

All good things...

...must come to an end. And so it was with my mom and sister's visit. A generous two weeks that spread before us on that Saturday that they arrived. Which still seemed substantial at the mid-way point as we thought of the projects and visits we had left to do. But which had gone by pretty fast all the same as we ate our last dinner together (mom's chicken enchiladas with Frenchy ingredients) the Saturday before their departure.

But I can't complain (not too much). I was spoiled this year with family visits. My dad in April, then mom and Jess. It helped me get through the busy times when Remi was working hard and coming home late. Now that has slowed down a bit. He was able to drive us to the Normandy coast for our two-day excursion. We'd thought about doing a longer trip as I had succeeded in getting Thursday and Friday off, and there was Saturday, but with a nearly two-year-old, less is more. We soon discovered that she wasn't into road trips and that it was hard to give her the opportunity to nap while traipsing around cute touristic towns. So we kept it short, a quick stop in Etrétat, with its stark cliff structure and pretty town center.


(I paid that sea gull to pose.)

Then Honfleur,the port town, where each street seems more picture-perfect than the one before. It was from this town that Champlain set sail on the journey that led him to found/colonize Quebec (any help from knowledgeable Canadians would be appreciated here).



And even though it was sometimes a bit warm, and more often than not Remi and I were bickering (a euphemism for growling) about the GPS or other totally non-important stuff, I was pleased to be on a road trip with the fam. Like when we stopped at the over-priced gas station on the toll highway and loaded up on goodies. If I squinted a bit I could imagine we were buying Cheez-its and Reeses Pieces at the Citgo. And those fun moments like listening to Allison Kraus on mom's iPod and trying to entertain Juliette with anything we could!

Mom and Jess also participated in the International Home Make-over while here. These two weekend warriors took on the task of making my kitchen more functional. You can see that before there was a puny piece of wood protecting the wall from grease splashes and the toaster and bread box took up precious counter space.



But look at it now! The Ikea black rod has created storage too and a nifty paper towel dispenser.



And the kitchen cart (put together by Remi and Jessy) can now house the toaster and breadbox thus freeing up the counter space.



Oh, they helped out in so many ways and I thank them for it. Plus they are so good at doing the dishes, just like dad did when he was here. So now Remi and I have got to fend for ourselves again and try to enjoy the rest of our summer. By French standards it's just beginning as school gets out this week for les petits français. I'm taking the week of July 12th off but we're not sure what we'll do. There are plenty of lovely things to see around here, though short road trips seem to be in order based on our recent experience with Juju. Or I could always tackle making the rest of the apartment more functional. I know a Swedish furniture store that can make it happen...

What's up here

I've just taken my towels out of the dryer. Yes, you read that right, the dryer. He swears he doesn't read my blog, but Remi must have gotten tired of me complaining about constantly hanging up laundry. And then taking the crispy items down. Then getting up the courage to iron them in front of the TV. He must have picked up on those comments about how the towels in the US are so soft because they actually use dryers. So he plunked down an obscene amount of money to get us one that can be stacked on the Whirlpool washer. The dryer is also a Whirlpool, 'cause it's a US brand, he was quick to note.

And who better to celebrate my return to the modern technological world than my mom and sister. They shared my joy when we felt those very soft towels. Whirlpool should have added that to their brochure "Four good reasons to buy a dryer," which I hadn't noticed was included with my washer five years ago. In case you need to convince yourself, or your husband, here they are:

1. Quicker drying time (duh! if it were longer, it would be a rip-off): one to two hours versus 24 to 48 on the line.

2. Better drying for less ironing (amen!): Clothes are less wrinkled thus easier to iron (or not necessary at all, for some items). No need to iron the towels (like I ever did that).

3. Save space in your home: less room needed for the drying rack or lines.

4. Less time spent hanging up and collecting clothes: (Take note of this one...) Four loads a week means an hour and a half putting up and taking down your drying rack laundry. That's 12 days a year spent on this chore!

Hope this helps you all out.

And in between admiring the gleaming white appliance, mom and Jess have been busy bees helping us out with home projects. A new tile backsplash for behind the stove top (rather the two burner free-standing system). And as the dryer took up space I used for bathroom supplies we decided to get a real medicine cabinet. So yesterday morning Remi and the rest of us went to Ikea for some decision-making. I feel a bit weird suddenly spending money on stuff, but then again, most of the year I don't buy a thing. I put off little projects that would make my life easier in the end. I'll soon post pictures of the new and improved kitchen.



I've been working most days they were here but not always full days. They've been enjoying getting to know the nearly two-year old Juliette (who's not the same as the one-year old mom saw last year or even the sixteen-month old Jessy met again in November). She's been showing us her ever-increasing ability to throw tantrums at any moment. She's developed a high pitch way of saying "no" that merits time in the corner or her crib. Not an easy time, though she can have her sweet moments, too. Like looking at a video of herself with Jessy. And dancing around to the radio. Check her out in this video while I go fondle my towels again.

The eternal question

My English friend had just warned me the other day that French men (or is it all men?) have a way of asking “Where’s my belt?” that can be loaded with accusation. As in, “Where did you put my belt, you belt-hiding wench?” So I reacted with my firm voice when my own French man said he couldn’t find any clean jeans the other Sunday. I promptly showed him the pants that were clean and ironed by yours truly in the cabinet. But those were too heavy for Monsieur. Jeans were the texture he wanted/needed. Well, that’s all there is, so deal with it, was my approximate response. And something else like, it’s not my job (or fondest aspiration) to clean my husband’s jeans. Just something I do out of kindness as he works seven days a week at the moment and sometimes doesn’t come home till nine p.m.

In talking with my French girlfriend at work, we realized this is a very common sticking point between husbands and wives. The French guys (again, I wonder, is it all guys?) have this way of thinking clothes magically migrate to the washing machine from no matter where they drop them. E.g. corners, couches, tables. One day soon I’m gonna take Remi by the ear and get him to round up everything he wants washed and show him how to put it in the machine himself. And maybe even turn it on, too! I know, I’m being tough on the guy. He has done laundry a few times in our marriage. And for the most part I don’t mind doing it. I like getting clothes clean and smelling their fresh flowery sweetness when I take them out of the machine. But have I mentioned that we don’t have a dryer? So drying takes at least a day or more on the rack. Then the majority of the clothes is wrinkled and must be ironed. And Remi did warn me before we got married that ironing is not one of his “things”. Why didn’t we get that put in a pre-nup?

I recently saw a report on the TV news here about whether women really were more liberated now compared to the past. They actually asked French couples who did what in terms of chores. Some men did participate more, some even did laundry (can we clone them?). But they made the point that women often just have to work twice as hard. They have a day job, and they do most everything at home, too. And they take care of the kiddies, too. Sure, it’s nothing compared to the women in some parts of the world who must walk four miles to get water. But the “ideal” of totally shared chores is still quite far off for most couples. And until we get a bigger place, I don’t think my dream of having a dryer will become a reality either. One day, one day…

Meanwhile, please participate in my highly scientific survey to prove once and for all who’s doing the laundry. Respond for your household, and if there’s no man or you’re a man who lives alone, just respond, do it myself cause live alone. I can’t get blogger to do the survey in English, but I think you can figure out that “voter” is vote. Afficher les resultants means show results.

Tout ou rien

(Pronounced “toot ooh ree-(y)in. Now roll it all together and mumble a bit. Yes, that’s very Frenchy.) It means all or nothing. Feast or famine. No more is this true than my region of France, the North-Pas de Calais. You’ll often here locals (and complaining expats) use this expression about the weather here. As in, it’s either gray and cold and drizzly, or blazing hot with no breeze. That’s been the pattern of our spring here. We just never know if we can really put up those sweaters and coats and break out the summery stuff. Actually, most of this week has been pretty picture perfect, sunny, warm, but not too stifling.

This expression also describes the lulls and busy periods of my life. There are times of the year I complain about the lack of work. Then spring rolls around and things get busier. More classes means more prep and less time for cleaning and wasting time/blogging. I find myself experiencing what full-time working moms go through all year. The impression of not spending much time with my little one and having to cram chores and cooking into the evening hours.

It’s all made worse by Remi’s spring schedule. Whereas some winter days he piddles in the greenhouse and comes home at 5 p.m., lately he works all-day, often into the night. Sometimes Juliette doesn’t see him at all these days, and I see him very little. I’m not exaggerating when I say I feel like a single mom these days.

Spring sure brings out the best and worst in our family. I love all the flowers in bloom and making up my own window boxes. But I hate how much Remi and his family work. And frankly I can’t help out much at all chasing Miss I Put My Hands Everywhere. We spend every Sunday there so at least Juliette sees her dad a little.

The days are so long this time of year, still light at 10 p.m. and I feel kind of buzzy, watering my flowers or doing little chores later into the evening. I find it hard to fall asleep though I know I’m tired. What a change from winters here when it’s dark till 8 or 8:30 a.m. and then again at 4:30 p.m.

And whereas in January I was happy to stay inside after work and huddle up, now I put JuJu in her stroller and run errands until 7 p.m. Any excuse is good for getting out in the sunshine. And to end on another quote, this time by the Beatles, “tomorrow may rain, so I’ll follow the sun.”

The girliest post ever

Calling all girls. Or metrosexual men who actually use skin care products. I'm about to run out of my supermarket-bought Nivea night cream and I think it's time for me to invest in a new skin care regime. My face just doesn't seem to have the elasticity of those younger days now that I'm 36! Despite religious use of my Laroche Posay sunscreen, I can tell that stress and fatigue are catching up with me.

Back in March I went for a facial, kindly paid for by my husband as his Valentine's Day present to me. (Yes, I know! He's become quite the expert gift-giver under my tutelage.) I was treated to an hour and a half of skin pampering. One cream after another, eyebrow reshaping (that was extra), blackhead removal with a specialized tool, steaming, masking, massaging. I lost count of how many products she used on my skin. But it did feel softer after all that pampering. And even though my eyebrows stayed reddish and stingy for a while, I might have even looked a little less tired.

At the end of the facial when I was stuck in the chair with a heavy mask on my face, the lady, who was also the shop owner, asked if I minded responding to a little survey. What could I say as I was not going anywhere anyway. So she asked me all sorts of questions about what products I used to clean my skin, take off my make-up, anti-wrinkle cream, foundation. I could see where she was going with all this but I kept responding in all honesty and feeling quite "naked" about my hodge-podge regime. One product from the pharmacy, another from the supermarket, barely anything in the same range. So it was no surprise that she told me it might be good to think about using one product line and that spending about 40 euros a month on your skin products was reasonable. Hmm. What do you gals think?

So send me your beauty secrets or favorite product lines. I've got some birthday money to spend, and this could be a good purchase to really take care of me.

PS: I'm hoping to find something without paraben as the media says this is yet another cancerous thing. It's in most of my stuff already so I've probably had quite a bit of exposure thus far.