We never stopped talking!

Yesterday was American Day here at my house. Thanks to my blog, and the persistance of a couple of women here in the Loiret, four of us got together yesterday for lunch and for a long chat about life in France.

I posted a couple of weeks ago about meeting Mme. T., who lives nearby here. You can read that post here.

In late September, I also received an email from Kristi (above left). She lives about 60 kms. from here. We had tried to meet once but missed connections. This time she came to my house bringing with her a lovely lady, Rosie (center), who also lives near Kristi. Mme. T. is above on the right.

Rosie has been in France since 1981, giving her the doyenne status. Kristi and I arrived at about the same time, her in 1988 and me in 1989. Mme. T. is the new kid having arrived just 2 years ago.

It was so much fun to talk and talk and talk all afternoon long. The minute I opened the front door, we started jabbering non-stop until the time everyone had to go. I haven't talked that much English in years!!!!

Me (making a face), Rosie and Mme. T.

Lunch was nice if I do say so myself. I made a nice verrine, a pork roast, a sweet potato casserole and cheese. Mme. T bought a deliciously obscene chocolate cake that the pâtissière called a "brownie".

What I found most interesting was the resemblance of our stories and about how we wound up in France and especially, why we decided to make France our homes. It was also nice to hear that I wasn't alone with many of my perceptions about French life.

Both Kristi and Rosie own and run Chambres d'Hôtes or bed and breakfast inns. Kristi's can be seen here. Rosie's can be visited here.

A New French Hero

We all love Robin Hood and the idea of stealing from the rich to give to the poor. The French love it too. A case in point is this super cool robbery that happened last week. The perpetrator has become a national folk hero.

Tony Musulin was a driver for the Loomis armored car company. He'd worked there for 10 years. Last week, while his two colleagues were picking up money from a bank, Tony calmly drove off in the armored car with $11.6 million Euros. The police are looking for him but they figure he's already out of the country. When they went to his house to search, Tony had cleaned out his belongings, closed his bank account and cancelled any services he had.

As of this weekend, Tony Musulin has become a French folk hero. He has a FaceBook page, he's got YouTube videos and all kinds of stories about him on the Internet. The above T-shirt is for sale on http://www.abrutishirt.com/

Find out about Tony Musulin here.

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Sometimes French Makes Me Crazy!

This morning I was changing the sheets on the bed and got to thinking about needing a new mattress and springs. Then I started turning over French words in my head that corresponded. I have this sort of Thesarus in my head when it comes to vocabulary. This is a game I often play when I'm doing something boring.

The word connections were sommeil (to sleep), sommeiller (to sleep lightly), un somme (a short nap), un sommier (mattress/box springs), un sommelier (a wine steward !!!!). WHAT??? How did a wine steward get mixed up amongst all those sleep references?

I've always gotten the word "un sommier" mixed up with "un sommelier". Monsieur Titi has laughed many times when we've gone to a restaurant and I ask to talk to "le sommier", rather than "le sommelier". And, when we've gone bed shopping, he'll laugh because I'll ask to see the sommeliers in the furniture stores.

But in my mind, "sommelier" goes with "sommeil" and there doesn't seem to be anyway I can change it. This may all seem rather minor, but it's pretty embarrassing for someone to call the wine steward a mattress/box springs and to call a mattress/box springs a wine steward.

I like drinking wine in bed as much as the next person, but I just can't seem to get these words straight in my head.

This is just another example of why the French language drives me crazy. I guess it's not the fault of the French, it's because they've gotten all their words from Latin. I decided to see why these words were so similar.

Here's what I found....
Sommelier vient du latin "Sagnarium" qui signifie: "l'homme attaché à la somme". Altération de sommerier, conducteur de bêtes de somme, de sommier, bête de somme. Officier chargé d'organiser le tranport des coffres d'un seigneur sur des sommiers ou chevaux de somme. Le terme désigna également l'officier de cour mettant le couvert et préparant les vins. Il désigne aujourd'hui le professionnel responsable de la cave et du service des vins.

Sommier -- Du bas latin sagmarius, bête de somme. Le terme désignait au Moyen Âge le cheval qui transportait les coffres d'un seigneur en déplacement, ou le coffre lui-même sur lequel le sommelier dormait à l'étape.

The word Sommelier comes from the latin "sagnarium" which signifies "the man responsible for the somme (safe)". The word was deformed from sommerier or the driver of the horses of the somme or the safe horses. The sommerier/sommelier was the officer in charge of organizing and transporting the King's monies. This word also signifies an officer of the court who layed the tables and prepared the wines for the King's meals. Today it means the professional responsible for the wine cave and the wine service.

The word Sommier comes from street Latin "sagmarius" meaning the cheval or the animal carrying the King's safe while travelling. The word then was applied to the safe itself on which the sommelier slept during the trip.

Now I get it!!! The sommelier was in charge of transporting the King's money from one place to another. He transported it on horses which were called the "safe horses". Because the sommelier protected the safes, he slept on the safes while travelling.

Makes perfect sense, doesn't it? I think I'll go back to bed and have a glass of wine.

It hasn't got any better!

At Christmas, Magic for Her, Technology for Him

We get advertising every Monday from a variety of businesses near by us. This booklet came yesterday in the mail. I immediately started to twitch and tick when I saw the cover. Not only is Christmas shopping being promoted from November 2nd in the stores, but this cover is so sexist!

From the time I arrived in France, I was always upset and angered by the casual sexism in companies and in society as a whole. I used to scream at some of my more macho co-workers for their off-hand comments about women at work. I went so far as to get the entire copy of the United States Sexual Discrimination law to give to one of the most obnoxious of my colleagues (the French Sales Manager).

It used to get the Sales Manager's goat that I was at the same level of hierarchy as he was. He made it a point every day to slimily complement me on my clothes, my hair, my general glowing positive nature, etc., etc. He treated his assitant (a lovely woman) like a slave and she'd just take it. I used to try to get her to revolt but she was too scared to lose her job.

There are so many jokes about women; blonde jokes are especially popular here. And if you take the time to explain the sexist content of these jokes, the guys just stare at you as if you were from outer space.

Since moving out of Paris, there has been less of this kind of rampant sexism being thrown in my face. However, the equality of pay doesn't exist here. On average, for equal work, a woman gets paid 30% less than her male counterpart. I guess I've let being outraged take a backseat to other, more immediate concerns. Maybe I've gotten older and I don't fight as much as I used to. Who knows?

But when I saw this toy brochure from our local supermarket, I saw RED! In all of the pictures, the boys are doing the cool expensive stuff (pool tables, scientific experiments, heavy machinery at 153€ 73) and the girls get WHAT???? Babies and kitchen items for 29€ 70!!!! Give me a break!!!!

I'm about ready to go to that supermarket and give the manager a piece of my mind. The first few years here, when I'd get mad and wanted to make an intelligent point about political-correctness, my French would falter and I'd wind up just getting mad.

I think that I've been here long enough now to be able to sound reasonable sane and coherent when complaining. Otherwise, I'll make an idiot of myself, and as usual, Monsieur Titi will be deeply ashamed for me.

Joyeux Anniversaire, cher Blog!

I can't believe that it's already the beginning of November. I guess that's because we've had a splendid autumn up until today. It's been one of the nicest arrière-saisons that we've had for years. Most French take advantage of this bank holiday to put chrysanthemums on their loved ones graves and clean the cemetaries. However, the real jour de la mort is tomorrow, November 2.

Here are a few French sayings for Toussaint:
A la Toussaint, le froid revient et met l'hiver en train.
S'il fait chaud le jour de la Toussaint, il tombe toujours de la neige le lendemain.

Autant d'heures de soleil le jour de la Toussaint, autant de semaines à souffler dans ses mains.



But it's also the FIRST YEAR BIRTHDAY OF MY BLOG!!!! I've only done about 168 posts this past year, but it's been so much fun. What's especially nice about blogging is that the communnity of bloggers are generous and supportive. When I receive comments on my blog, they're just as good as getting mail in the post.

But I'm sure we'd find each other interesting in person!

I want to wish you all a wonderful November and to thank you for being such wonderful readers and friends.

Copains Comme Cochons

Internet is a wonderful thing. Here's a personal example.

Three weeks ago, I got a comment on my blog from a reader saying, "Where do you live in the Loiret? I'm an American and I live here too!" Well, of course I wrote back and lo-and-behold, this woman lives only about 20 kilometers from me. Isn't that crazy?

So we got together a couple of weeks back and had lunch. We had a great time! Madame T. has been in France for about 2 years. Her husband got promoted here with his company here into the "fin-fonds" of France to manage a company. She's been struggling with her French and trying to adapt to life in a small French town since then.

We've hung out together a few more times now, and we have found that we are very much alike. I love books, she loves books. We both have weird senses of humor. And, we've made similar life choices.

I'll introduce you to a French idiom that fits. We are "copains comme cochons". Friends like pigs.