A Day in the Life of a Semi-French Woman in Mid-Novembre
It's Sunday.
Upon opening my eyes:
Reach for my glasses and frantically start NoWri-ing. I find that morning is the best time to pound out 2k words, like, non-stop. Any other time of the day, I've got to be in the mood, I've got to be drinking either coffee or wine. But the minute after I open my eyes, the ideas just pour out. What's up with that?
Breakfast, which is closer to, er, 11am:
Consists of me, a bowl of coffee, dunking my crusted pain from a few days ago into said coffee, and gobbling down yogurt. I love coffee so it usually lasts for a good 20 minutes as I watch Plus belle la vie. Trashy French soap opera, but from a pedagogical point of view, you can learn a lot about French expressions, who uses certain expressions, etc. And during the term, when I don't have much of a social life, this is pretty much my French exposure.
Until the next meal:
Laundry. It's been unseasonably warm for November, so I continue to open my windows to the sunshine so that my clothes hang on the drying rack in the wonderful mild winter weather here in the volcans d'Auvergne. I futz around on my guitar until my fingers hurt (goodness, where does the time go?). Take out the trash, do the recycling. Side note: so here, in France, the recycling pick up does not include glass. For glass, you've got to go to a special glass bin. These bins are usually within a 10-minute walking distance of any home. I do this on a Sunday, and usually it's a bit, shall we say eye-catching, because I've got some crazy outfit on (laundry day, remember?) compared to the casual chic Frenchie-ness around me. Today, I get lots of down-and-up glances with my ballerina black flats, tie-dyed socks (gift from an ex's mom), cargo pants, and brilliant purple top with, of course, a scarf.
I also cook my lunch for the next few days at work. This week it's a potato-tomato-chickpea Indian-inspired dish. It's fun to hear the mustard seeds popping, though in a dummy-cooking move I accidentally pour in fennel seeds when it should have been cumin seeds. D'oh! I've been making this dish for years, so it's a crazy error on my part. Oh well, add some ground cumin and a bit of extra salt and it turns out fine, different, but fine. I go for a walk to the nearby park that isn't full of my students, called Square Amadéo. It's beautiful and quaint and tranquil as the sun goes down. One thing about parks closing here in Clermont, they've got this heart-attack inducing bell, really like a fire alarm, to start herding people out of the park about 15 minutes before it's to close. But no one really pays attention to it since you've still got 15 minutes to relax. No one makes a move toward the gates until le flic start harassing people to leave by them just wandering around, which is about 5 minutes after the park is officially closed. Even then, I'm sure if you refuse to leave the cops will either lock you in (which wouldn't be hard to scale the cobbled fences) or invite you to the station for a citation and some pastis.
Next meal
Leek quiche with wine from Saumur (I really have this huge preference for Loire Valley wines, having lived there for a year) and for dessert a Granny Smith apple with bleu d'Auvergne. Is there anything more heavenly than good wine and cheese and fruit? Absolutely not! I snuggle on the couch and monitor my FF team, as this week my brother and I are playing against each other. I'm currently ahead, but he's still got 2 games to play later in the early evening, PST, after everyone on my team has played so I'm not sure I'll still pull out on top. I'll find out tomorrow evening when I return from work.
I catch up on lj, international phone calls, reader and check out some American TV online. Cappuccino and write for a bit more. I could do some correcting but, eh, I'm putting that off for the mo. I don't teach on Mondays (though I do go into work for light tech support and various meetings), so Sundays are always a lounge-around day for me.
That's it. Hooray Sunday!
P.S. Keep lj alive, post!
Upon opening my eyes:
Reach for my glasses and frantically start NoWri-ing. I find that morning is the best time to pound out 2k words, like, non-stop. Any other time of the day, I've got to be in the mood, I've got to be drinking either coffee or wine. But the minute after I open my eyes, the ideas just pour out. What's up with that?
Breakfast, which is closer to, er, 11am:
Consists of me, a bowl of coffee, dunking my crusted pain from a few days ago into said coffee, and gobbling down yogurt. I love coffee so it usually lasts for a good 20 minutes as I watch Plus belle la vie. Trashy French soap opera, but from a pedagogical point of view, you can learn a lot about French expressions, who uses certain expressions, etc. And during the term, when I don't have much of a social life, this is pretty much my French exposure.
Until the next meal:
Laundry. It's been unseasonably warm for November, so I continue to open my windows to the sunshine so that my clothes hang on the drying rack in the wonderful mild winter weather here in the volcans d'Auvergne. I futz around on my guitar until my fingers hurt (goodness, where does the time go?). Take out the trash, do the recycling. Side note: so here, in France, the recycling pick up does not include glass. For glass, you've got to go to a special glass bin. These bins are usually within a 10-minute walking distance of any home. I do this on a Sunday, and usually it's a bit, shall we say eye-catching, because I've got some crazy outfit on (laundry day, remember?) compared to the casual chic Frenchie-ness around me. Today, I get lots of down-and-up glances with my ballerina black flats, tie-dyed socks (gift from an ex's mom), cargo pants, and brilliant purple top with, of course, a scarf.
I also cook my lunch for the next few days at work. This week it's a potato-tomato-chickpea Indian-inspired dish. It's fun to hear the mustard seeds popping, though in a dummy-cooking move I accidentally pour in fennel seeds when it should have been cumin seeds. D'oh! I've been making this dish for years, so it's a crazy error on my part. Oh well, add some ground cumin and a bit of extra salt and it turns out fine, different, but fine. I go for a walk to the nearby park that isn't full of my students, called Square Amadéo. It's beautiful and quaint and tranquil as the sun goes down. One thing about parks closing here in Clermont, they've got this heart-attack inducing bell, really like a fire alarm, to start herding people out of the park about 15 minutes before it's to close. But no one really pays attention to it since you've still got 15 minutes to relax. No one makes a move toward the gates until le flic start harassing people to leave by them just wandering around, which is about 5 minutes after the park is officially closed. Even then, I'm sure if you refuse to leave the cops will either lock you in (which wouldn't be hard to scale the cobbled fences) or invite you to the station for a citation and some pastis.
Next meal
Leek quiche with wine from Saumur (I really have this huge preference for Loire Valley wines, having lived there for a year) and for dessert a Granny Smith apple with bleu d'Auvergne. Is there anything more heavenly than good wine and cheese and fruit? Absolutely not! I snuggle on the couch and monitor my FF team, as this week my brother and I are playing against each other. I'm currently ahead, but he's still got 2 games to play later in the early evening, PST, after everyone on my team has played so I'm not sure I'll still pull out on top. I'll find out tomorrow evening when I return from work.
I catch up on lj, international phone calls, reader and check out some American TV online. Cappuccino and write for a bit more. I could do some correcting but, eh, I'm putting that off for the mo. I don't teach on Mondays (though I do go into work for light tech support and various meetings), so Sundays are always a lounge-around day for me.
That's it. Hooray Sunday!
P.S. Keep lj alive, post!