March 2024

We kept getting teased with the weather – one minute looking like it’s a great sunny, warm day, only to have it cloud over and give us rain showers. Add to that some blustery days and our winter coats were still on the hall rack for the ready. We did enjoy the trees budding and especially the cherry blossoms. What we did not do – was travel. So most of this is mundane stuff and cooking. Sorry about that.

It was a month of doctor and dental appointments. They seem to come in bunches. Our eccentric dentist has been absolutely over the moon for a new dental chair she is getting from America. I can’t make fun of her excitement considering how G feels about his Roborock. Maybe her new chair will perform foot massages along with the two hours I have to sit with my mouth wide open. Now THAT would be exciting.

We made a tasty lamb stew for St. Patrick’s day, along with baking three types of bread and invited over our American buddies, C & B to join the fun. Pistashio ice cream with a hot fudge sauce finished it all off. My lame attempt to get something green going.

A conversation we’ve had with our buddies has centered around the fact that Europeans we encounter, know before we even open our mouths to speak, that we are Americans. And if we’ve only said Bonjour – correctly (or so we think the same as any French person) they answer in English. This is quite frustrating when we’re trying to start an exchange in French because we live here and want to continue to use the language we are trying so hard to acquire. But I read an article recently about the ways we operate which is a sure giveaway to them and I had to laugh. There are a lot of similar articles on the internet, still this one had some things not repeated in others.

I had to say I’m certainly guilty of many of the things listed, but not all and G is guilty of a few more than me. But this gave me some comfort as to why, even if I haven’t opened my mouth, they know. It isn’t all about my poor pronunciation after all.

These were things that absolutely apply to me:

• When they sing song their greeting. No one else is that chipper in saying hello.
• Italians say Americans walk confidently in the wrong direction. I have to say that I make a point of it. Coming out of a metro, using GPS on my phone, I’m always off.
• They always look cheerful and are constantly smiling and looking happy. Tourists from other places appear more neutral or even unhappy.
• They give gentle grins to strangers as they pass by and make eye contact. It may be received in the Midwest, but not so much in Germany. I’ll add that I even give a small nod too.
• When asked how far away something is, an American will tell you how long it takes to get there in minutes as opposed to the physical distance. OK, nailed again but in my defense, I haven’t conquered the meter versus mile thing yet.
• They act so amazed by things that are more than 200 years old, presumably because they don’t have many things that old in the USA. I love our apartment and have recently found out that I appreciate the building’s history more than our landlord. His grandfather built it but he didn’t know it’s construction date or story.

These definitely apply to G:

• They recognized Americans immediately because they are especially friendly and they always left tips. And further – Americans will try to tip everyone, even in countries where tipping isn’t a thing and can even be considered insulting. If a server actually says something to G, he just shrugs and says with a smile, I’m an American. I’ve gotten him to check if the country we’re visiting hates tipping.
• They like to point at stuff while walking and narrate what it is like, ‘Hey, look, it’s a smoke shop’…‘Oh, look, a bakery’…’Look at the canal.’ I am really trying to break him of that habit. If nothing else, not using his finger to point but using his open hand.
• And the best as far as I’m concerned: They are not wearing Speedos at the beach. And for this, one person wanted to thank American men. G doesn’t own any.

This one didn’t fit us, which was a relief:

• When you ask where they’re from, they don’t say ‘America’. Instead, they say something like, ‘I’m from Florida!’ No other people in the world tell you what state or region they are from. They usually start at a continental level, like, ‘I’m from Europe,’ and then maybe go further as to tell you their home country if the conversation continues. American folks just go straight to the state. ‘I’m from Texas,’ ‘I’m from California,’ etc. Half of them just say their town, which nobody knows. Then, when you look confused, they say their state like, ‘Oh, it’s in Louisiana’. And we all know the Americas are more than one country but rarely do they say they’re from the ‘United States’.

There is an amusement when American’s often say that they’re something like – one-eighth German, one-eighth Irish, one-sixteenth Scottish, one-sixteenth Spanish, three-eighths French, and one-fourth Canadian. It’s so true. But again, it reflects that our country is still young (remember us being amazed at anything over 200 years old?). Just think of the family recipes handed down which serve to remind us of our various heritages. Granny’s German Apple Cake or Great Gran’s Sangria. We’re practically little walking heritage pies, with all kinds of interesting slices.

But enough silliness and on to more food. We’d been promising a group of French friends to make them an authentic Mexican dinner (which is scarce in France) so about a week after St. Patrick’s day, we made good on that promise. It took an entire day of shopping and two days of cooking but we wanted to give them a good array of choices. The menu consisted of Chicken Mole, Pork Chili Verde, rice, black beans & pinto beans (both refried and pot beans), nopales, chili rellenos and cheese & onion enchiladas. We also made three pitchers of margaritas to wash it all down with. Dessert was a bread pudding with vanilla ice cream. It was all well received and when we closed our front door as they left 5 hours later, we were done in.

We used to be able to pull dinners like this off without breaking a sweat but these days I have to admit to feeling the effects. It took us three days after the dinner to feel our energy levels return to normal. I think that our big dinners are going to have to be limited to a couple of times a year. Maybe if we were the type to run marathons, we’d generally have more stamina but I’m too damn lazy to test that theory. I’d sooner wear speedos on a beach than start running races just to see if cooking big dinners may or may not still exhaust me.

The last week was cloudy and rainy – and then we had daylight savings over here, finally. Warm weather HAS to be coming our way. And lastly here’s more of the sights in Lille: