A new year already – always amazing. Our New Year’s Eve dinner was broiled lobster, pasta and of course, a very good bottle of wine (no champagne). We watched the street activity below our balcony at midnight, which was so much more than last year and it made us smile. The Christmas market ride and Ferris wheel will run for a good part of the month but the market closed up on Christmas eve. And so it is now January.
We have a tough time with champagne and we’ve never been fans. Sometime this year, we’d like to take a trip to the champagne region and get an education on it. But it’s like Chardonnay was once in the early 70’s. We’d had too many bad ones to overcome first, in order to appreciate the wine. The lobster is now our New Year’s Eve dinner. The market down the street has the best fresh fish department. They get in fish daily and you can ask the fish monger which fish came in that morning. Much better than the market we had in our US neighborhood before moving here. The monger there told us that they would get their fish in once a week, on Tuesday morning. We never bought fish past Wednesday, during the weekend or on Monday. Here I can buy any day of the week and know which fish was just delivered.
The twice-yearly national sales also began this month and the first runs January 12-February 8, 2022. I have blogged about how France strictly regulates ”les soldes” in order to protect the smaller merchants in their competition with the larger brand stores. A portion of 2020 and all of 2021 restricted people from getting out and enjoying the sales atmosphere but they were out this year, still for the most part masked, and taking advantage of good weather and great sales.
New Year’s day was spent taking down the holiday decorations, while listening to jazz. That is a tradition we developed from a friend, many decades ago. We all know people who, for whatever reason, truly dislike a particular holiday. When it becomes an obstacle, it’s interesting to see how individuals will solve their discomfort. One person we knew hated Thanksgiving and to develop a way to celebrate it, he began an amazing practice. He invited all of his friends to a ‘luau’ at his apartment, instead of making a turkey dinner. In advance, he hauled in a huge number of bags of sand, laid down a tarp on his living room floor and spread out a nice thick layer of sand. Guests were instructed to come in beach attire, despite the winter temperatures. When guests arrived in their winter coats, dressed in Hawaiian clothing underneath, they found that despite the 30 degree weather outside, the apartment was a tropical 75 degrees. Shedding their outer wear as well as their shoes, they enjoyed roasted pork and a variety of tropical dishes, while dressed in summer wear, toes in sand, listening to Hawaiian music. It became a favorite holiday for him instead.
Another friend really hated putting up a Christmas tree. The thought just overwhelmed her. Her solution was to invite all of her friends over to first put up the tree and then decorate it for her. She made a vat of delicious chili with corn bread to feed everyone and played Christmas music to inspire them all. Yet another acquaintance was always depressed when taking down their tree and decorations after the holiday. Their solution was to invite all their friends over to take down the tree and decorations, while listening to jazz, sipping wine and eating appetizers. It was such a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, dismantling everything, that we embraced their tradition. Within an afternoon, everything was taken down and tidily stored away for the year, while we too sipped wine and listened to jazz.
Our weather at the beginning of the month held at a steady mid 50’s with sporadic rain. Later it dipped to the mid 30’s. Family in Oregon sent pictures of knee deep snow and a report that it was 6 below. Brrrrrrr. Been there, done that. On Zoom, we saw fat flakes of snow going outside the window. We talked about the fact that their whole house is electric and what to consider in order to prepare for power outages. There are a couple of back ups one can put in place and some of them quite expensive, which warrant a good amount of deliberating over. We like all four seasons but those are harder conditions than G and I personally enjoy.
One morning we heard a knock on the door and found that Marine from upstairs had left a block of cheese with a note that it was from her home town, Tome des Bauges. So delightful !! She even recommended a wine to go with the Savoie cheese. We texted her our profound thanks and when G went out shopping, he found the wine. We had that later in the week as an afternoon snack and boy was it tasty!
Unfortunately this month, our landlord Fabrice and his family came back from their holidays and tested positive for the virus. They’d each had all 3 shots and, like others have told us, he said it felt just like a flu. They all felt cruddy but were not in need of hospitalization. Others we keep in touch with, in the states, have reported the same. Those who got the Omicron and have had all three shots, all feel poorly for a couple of days, like a seasonal flu but not bad enough to require medical attention, which is a bit of a relief.
This time of year, on the 6th, they sell a tart in Western Europe called the Gâteau des Rois,(King cake). We talked about it in the blog last year, finding it intriguing with its history, the special charm buried within and its utter deliciousness. In France because of the Revolution, they changed the name, eliminating the word “King” and calling it Gâteau de l’egalité (Equality Cake) although it is still known by the original name. It’s like a bigger version of an almond croissant. Flakey crust, ground almond paste center, it is a buttery, flat tart. I just can’t resist this cake and in my excitement – just like last year, I bought one for all of the neighbors and acquaintances. And of course we had three ourselves before the month ended. We all have a vice and I own up to the fact that this cake is mine.
In the middle of this month, I went with another neighbor, Audrey, to the Palais Des Beaux-Arts, which was holding a Goya exhibit. We end up conversing in English, which helps her improve, but mostly because my French is so poor. Unfortunately the exhibit was disappointing. The paintings and drawings presented were not his best or most famous pieces. They also did a small room with the immersion technique, which frankly just gave us both a headache. A lot of flashing pieces and most involved drawings of the slaughter which took place in the Spanish war and were very gruesome. I do love his paintings of the war, in particular “The Execution of the 3rd of May” showing the harsh realities the populous suffered. But the immersion was particularly graphic and we both left utterly depressed. Almost simultaneously, Audrey and I turned to each other, said, “I need a drink”, and then laughed. As we walked down to Cafe Society, I texted G and he beat us there, holding our favorite table. We had the rare chance to really enjoy her company, over gin tonics.
The biggest start to this new year is the fact that we decided to finally tackle the French language with zeal. We weren’t getting anywhere with internet applications and without the virus restrictions, decided to sign up for in-person, in-town class. Starting in the second week, the schedule is three times a week for 6 weeks. We walked to the school the day before, to prepare in advance. The route going there via GPS was so tangled and messy that we were talking about checking out the bus and metro possibilities. But when taking the alternative route back, it was much more straightforward and we knew exactly where we were. So walking we chose, as it’s only a 30 min walk. G has taken to much of the modernistic architecture along our route, which is not my favorite. There’s also a lot of new construction that will continue to delight him as we continue our walks to class.
Our first class was not as terrifying as we thought it’d be. It covered things we’d learned previously but it did make us talk more. Two and a half hours was pushing our limit of sitting through it . However, we did have to repeat things, not together as a class but called on sporadically, individually – so you had to keep up with processing in your head and spitting it back out without warning. That was a new challenge. We’ve got five other classmates, all in their 20’s and all of them speak at least three languages, even if it is a small amount. I feel that even in this beginning class that everyone speaks better beginning French than we do. It is very humbling.
The second class was easier, settling in with faces that now were no longer new. The teacher talked to us after the class. We’d heard one of the students asking about switching to the next level up class. I needed to verify with her that this class was the most beginning that they had. She had deduced that we had some knowledge – asking what form it was in. Our answer was that we know some vocabulary but not sentence structure. It’s the cleanest way for us to convey that we can’t understand a good amount of French conversation but do know some words. She has come to the conclusion that the students know some fundamentals, such as numbers, the pronunciation of the alphabet, days of the week and month – so she is going to pick up the pace. Clearly, after just the second class, at least for me – it feels as if everyone is faster on pronunciation and sentence construction. We’ll just have to plow on like the proverbial bull in a china shop.
One ‘shake your head’ moment involved the exercises to get us to use the numbers and alphabet. This had everyone spelling out their name and giving their birthdates and ages as the instructor wrote it all on the board. It’s a standard in language classes. You not only have to repeat numbers and the alphabet but you are hearing them from other people , which provides a comprehension piece. Well, when I said I was married for 47 years and she wrote that on the board, there was a collective gasp from the class. Then when G spelled out his name and gave his age as 70, there was another audible gasp. We just looked at each other and laughed. Yep, we kind of stick out. Just one final item about walking to our class. One day, with all the new construction going on, there was an accidental rupture of a gas line that required us to find a different route. It turned out to be really lovely, taking us through a park and has become an alternative route for us.
I spent some time pulling out my old flash cards from the online classwork and our work with our wonderful Oakland tutor, Christelle. I also developed a tool for myself – an internal voice or a mantra, if you will. I feel my shoulders scrunching up with getting ready to struggle with the language and I mindfully UNscrunch them, physically relaxing them. I envision the future delight I will experience in seamlessly conversing in French, I bask in the knowledge that I am capable of this task and I hear my inner voice say, “You’ve got this kid!!” Puts a smile on my face and I’m ready to go. On Monday’s when I feel the same doubt creeping up my shoulders, I go through the same mental exercise and am much less stressed as a result. Hard yes, impossible no. Some classes are easier than others for me, because I have a better grasp of vocabulary since we’ve been at this for some time. I’m sure that advantage will dissipate as we go but I’m happy to have it for now.
All of January the class and the homework took up our days and will until we’ve finished the course in February. We want to complete the entire spectrum of A1 level, which means that we will have to sign on to the second class of 8 weeks, which will start after a week’s respite. We’ve decided that we must do that immediately following the course, as it will be freshest in our minds. I think then that we will give it a long rest, for our own sanity if nothing else. We are considering additional work of a course in pronunciation, before continuing on to A2. We’ve experienced not being understood, even though we have the right vocabulary, because we’re pronouncing it so badly we’re not really communicating. If we aren’t enunciating well, we might as well be speaking in Flemish.
Any other of our projects are postponed due to the class, which is a priority. Travel, even the quick trips to neighboring towns, will have to be put on hold as well. We need all the free time to study in order to just keep in step. We do of course have home tasks to complete. We aren’t going without fresh laundry just to be able to gain the skill to say that in French.
When we have made cookies for all of our acquaintances, we discovered that Fabrice is not big on sweets. I decided to try to make meat pies, so that he could have a treat from our kitchen. The recipe required Demi Glace and we went to four stores without success. IT’S FRENCH, FOR GOD’S SAKE – WHY wouldn’t every store carry it, right next to bullion? You know, there are some days that it’s just plain tough to be polite about your obstacles. I made my own from an online recipe and kept the swearing to a minimum.
Never having previously made meat pies, before assembling them I tasted the filling and found it too salty. So I tried – in small portions off to the side – different fixes. One was a bottled Ratatouille, which made it more salty, Burrata cheese, which made it less salty but too chewy and then finally Greek yogurt, which made it less salty and added a nice layer of flavor. In the first batch, I made three different sizes to get the ideal hand held pie and picked a size which was smaller than the recipe specified. Then I cooked enough for Fabrice and family – 6 and then the rest for our dinner. G was so delighted, he said I could make these anytime. I had to reminded him that puff pastry was not in our diet and that meat pies would not become a part of our repertoire. I definitely earned a ‘stink eye’ for that. Why wave around what isn’t on a permanent menu, was his decided position. As it turns out, although Fabrice enjoyed the pies, they too were not on their diets – being too rich and heavy. So that is the end of meat pies, thank goodness.
In our daily adventures, we discovered this month when we changed out the batteries on the thermostat, that the thermostat loses its settings and shuts the boiler down if you take more than 30 seconds to change the battery. It has to be reset and poor G ‘s attempts to reset only netted him boiler failure codes before finding the solution at the end of the day. To be fair, I did stand behind him while he worked it, until I realized it wasn’t helping him physically or mentally to be doing so. We were looking at no hot showers and, at my age, it might trigger a heart event with a cold shower. Wouldn’t be prudent. What a pain for poor G for all of his work. At least he had meat pies to sooth his ruffled feathers.
Moving forward, in working on expanding our list of doctors in Lille, we met with a very pleasant, English-speaking gastroenterologist as eventually we are both going to need his services. On our list is also a podiatrist and an ophthalmologist. Eventually we can shift all of our medical exams from Paris, to Lille. After quite a bit of research and paperwork, G has gotten our medical cards and the process to have our needs met has become very smooth.
Something else that we have struggled with is how to pass on something new or nearly new, that we have purchased but have no use for. We bought two different down comforters online. One was purposed for spring and one for winter. After trying them both over the year, we discovered that with the apartment heat being very even and adjusted, the spring comforter was fine for winter and the winter one was way too warm. What to do with a one-time used, too warm comforter? There are no Goodwill or Salvation Army stores here, to simply drop your good but unwanted articles at. They have here what are called “Emmaus” but none are close in Lille. We had, over time, developed a bag of such items, which weighed on my mind because I refused to simply dispose of them on trash days. Then two things occurred to help us out.
Leaving the building one afternoon, we came across Marine and Marie in the lobby with a huge pile of bags, boxes and what looked like a bed frame. They were waiting for Thomas who was coming by with a truck and they were going to an Emmaus shop to drop it all off. We asked if we could add to their things with the bag we had set aside and they graciously agreed. That taken care of, we realized that we’d forgotten the comforter, which was stored under the bed, in its original packaging. THEN, as fortune would have it, when we had cocktails with Audrey after the museum outing, we discovered that living on the top floor of this historic building, she deals with poorly insulated walls. We are sandwiched between two floors and our heat is very even. She has outside air streaming in between the wall bottom edge molding and the floorboards. Voilá !! The comforter found a happy home and Audrey sent a GIF with her appreciative thanks.
Towards the end of the month, we were crushed to discover that Marine who brought us the cheese – our upstairs classical guitar neighbor, is moving out in June. She had come to finish her postgraduate in Lille, which she did and now she is moving back to Burgundy, happy to be reunited with her boyfriend. Last year we wrote about a concert we held in our apartment as part of her dissertation requirements. We will miss her and her playing – she is practicing right now, as I sip coffee and write this blog to you. All of the neighbors above us are musicians. Marine is a professional classical guitarist, Thomas plays the electric guitar – fortunately not in the apartment without headphones, Sebastien plays both the guitar and, we believe he said the piano as well, and Marie is a violinist.
Marie actually provided our entertainment this month. She invited us to see her play in concert, which we heartily accepted. After some research as to how to get there, we went on a tram – for the first time. It’s like the bus – both of which cover areas that the metro and trains do not. The US is so huge and it is painful that it does not have the kind of infrastructure which exists in most of smaller Europe. You can not live in most of the states without a car. In riding the tram, it felt like the metro, but is mostly above ground. We got to the destination within a half hour. As it turned out, half of the passengers were going to the same concert, making it easy to follow and find – about a five minute walk from the stop. The auditorium seated about 650 or more, from our count. We were fortunate to have seats in the second row – seating was first come, first serve. It was a full orchestra with easily 8 to 10 violinists. The Orchestre Lalo du Conservatoire de Lille, founded in 2005, includes amateur adult instrumentalists, high school students and conservatory students, and was extremely good. They had a young man, Carlos Brito-Ferreira who is Portuguese and played a guest clarinet for two pieces, which was nothing short of amazing.
The second half, the orchestra played Pictures of an Exhibition by Moussorgsky, a personal favorite. It was an absolutely delightful evening and we thanked Marie by text afterwards, sending her a couple of pictures that we took during the performance.
I can’t close this without talking about our friends whom we met when we first arrived in France. We rented a studio apartment in Paris in June 2018 and the stories are included in the first months of the blog. We had a terrible time with the internet connection and through that issue, we met the owners, Angelo and Tina, as well as their adult daughter, Fedricka and their grandchild, Fedricka’s daughter, Giullia. After an afternoon together, we were invited to lunch at their own vacation apartment in Paris, where we solidified being friends. We exchange emails often with Fedricka, who lives in Milan, about many things, getting through the quarantine, our foibles in learning to live in Lille and even exchanged cooking recipes. She and I shared stories of caregiving, as my father passed from a horrible long lasting cancer some years ago and her father, Angelo, was suffering from Parkinson’s. She emailed to us last month that he had passed on Christmas eve and that she was bringing her mother to live in Milan after the services. In this last week, she emailed that they were taking care of some business in Paris and asked if we could come for a visit. On the last Friday, we went to Paris and we all lunched together at Michele’s restaurant (you may remember him in the June 2018 blog about a poster), laughing over our adventures in French Class and travel mixups but overall the lunch was a remembrance of Angelo. He was a kind and gentle man who was dearly loved and will be terribly missed. We were glad to have gotten a chance to meet and to know him. A sad note to end on, but he was a good person to remember. We all have good people in our lives and G & I appreciate every one of you.
Happy New Year to you all and may this year be an improvement from the last.
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