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No. 345: Searching for Monsieur Chat

I am not sure why it took me nearly three years to discover these delightful golden cats with the Cheshire grin because I always make it a habit to look up.

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And ‘up’ is where you will find them, mischievously smiling down. I came across them in Orléans earlier this summer, and now I see them peeking out at me here at home. I have even seen them as far away as Geneva, and rumor has it this roving rascal has made it all the way to the big time in New York City.

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This fancy feline appears under the cover of darkness when his puckish painter comes out to play tag. Spray cans in hand; the artist’s imagination takes flight late at night on high above rooflines and sand colored walls. Sometimes you find them grinning uncertainly from chimney pipes and gutters. And sometimes their paws reach out for the sky while their faces laugh at the sun. I even saw this cool cat winging it with angels in front of the pearly gates.

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Monsieur Chat is my favorite skyline treasure hunt. Where have you seen this traveling tomcat?

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No. 344: August in Paris

shhhh_the_secret_to_Paris.jpgShhhh…I am going to let you in on a little secret: The best time to visit Paris is.…..August. (Now that  you know, promise me you’ll keep it under your hat.)

With apologies to my French girlfriends who were born and raised in Paris (and I think you might secretly agree), there are no two ways about it, the eighth month of the year here, is just fine. More than fine. Me thinks it is perfectly divine.! Yes siree. August is the most wonderful time of the year!

Why, you ask? Well…I have to say quite frankly, the Parisians have vanished and gone on vacances. Lucky us! Quelle chance!

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There are simply no Parisians to be found here or there or anywhere.

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A breath of fresh air has swept into town, and we can all get off the defensive and relax just a bit. No angry drivers honking and screeching. No stare downs and games of chicken on the crowded sidewalks. And no naughty little boys to stomp all over the ceiling or steal the mail.

Okay, so a few stores and restaurants might be closed (maybe only 70 percent), and yes, there is a large handful of tourists milling about, mais neither are a big inconvenience, compared to feeling like “I’m king (queen) of the World!”

I know it sounds crass, but it is truly freeing to be in Paris without the Parisians. It is the month of the year where I relearn to smile at, and say “hello” to strangers on the street. I remember how nice it is to be smiled back at by other expats and unhurried tourists all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

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It is the month I let my guard down and open myself up to new possibilities and positivity. It is the month of gossiping with girlfriends in empty cafés, strolling along the Seine with your sweetheart in hand, the moon in sight, and lounging on the Paris Plage sipping a pamplemousse pressé watching the world go by.

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August in Paris. Yippee!!

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No. 343: Papa Francesco

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I have had so many remarkable experiences during my three years in France, but one of the most memorable and awe-inspiring moments happened this summer in Rome while I was serving as a short-term nanny for a dear friend’s 4-year-old daughter and I was included in a private audience with Pope Francis. I took this “job” not because of the papal possibility, mais parce que j’adore mon amie et sa fille, and I always jump at the chance to spend time with them. The prospect of meeting the Pope was appealing, but I did not actually think it would happen.

But then it did.

As you may know, I was raised in an extremely liberal Catholic church (oxymoron, yes) during Vatican II, when Catholicism was (in some ways) being rethought, rejuvenated and adapted to the modern world. There was this whole exciting movement to bring the Church back into the realm of hands-on social justice and working for peace. Of course then Ronald Reagan came to power, and the USA began our slippery slide into supposed “Christian/Focus on the Family” values and the Catholic Church did a complete three-sixty turnabout, and gave up on Vatican II.

That is when I left the Catholic Church. Which is not to say that I haven’t been to mass in 25 years. I have. Which is not to say I don’t pray. I do. Which is not to say I am not spiritual. I am. But, I have been sorely disappointed in the leadership of the Catholic Church for decades.

That was until Argentinian-born Jorge Mario Bergoglio became Papa Francesco on March 13, 2013. He chose Francesco/Francis to honor Saint Francis of Assisi, who Americancatholic.org describes as: “a poor little man who astounded and inspired the Church by taking the gospel literally—not in a narrow fundamentalist sense, but by actually following all that Jesus said and did, joyfully, without limit and without a mite of self-importance.

AUDIENCIA GENERAL EN EL VATICANO

Throughout his cleric life Pope Francis, “has been distinguished for his humility, his concern for the poor, and his commitment to dialogue as a way to build bridges between people of all backgrounds, beliefs, and faiths. He is known for having a simpler and less formal approach to the papacy, most notably by choosing to reside in the Domus Sactae Marthae guesthouse rather than the papal apartments of the Apostolic Palace  used by his predecessors…and he (also) favors simpler vestments void of ornamentation…” plus he has a wonderful, genuine smile, and he loves le foot.

source: Saint John's University

source: Saint John’s University

In my opinion, this Pope has potential, and possibly lots of it. Papa Francesco is the first Pope from the Americas, the first Pope from the Southern Hemisphere and the first non-European Pope since Pope Gregory III in 741—1,272 years ago! A non-Eurocentric Pope—now this I love. (Another fun fact in his favor: before starting his seminary studies, Papa Francesco worked briefly as a nightclub bouncer.)

So, by the time the hope of meeting Pope Francis became a reality, I was pretty darn excited. When the day came, we were finally forwarded all the papal protocol. What to wear? Dark colors, covered shoulders. Kiss the ring, or shake his hand? Either, although shaking his hand seemed to be his preference. Take pictures with the Swiss Guards? No, no, no. Except if you have a bambino. Does the Pope accept gifts? Yes. Many in our audience brought books, prayers, and small objects. Can a curious and precocious 4-year-old survive 4 hours of waiting, hundreds of steps through glorious rarely seen Italian galleries, and a 45-minute audience? Yes. Thank you Haribo gummy bears and good parenting from her maman.

The whole day was astonishing. From the moment we stepped into the Papal Palace and began winding our way up the marble staircases through the art filled halls, graced with gilded ceilings, mosaic floors, and Michelangelo frescos until we finally arrived in the splendid Hall of the Consistory, I felt like I was in a dream.

I also wished I was walking those stairs and hallways with my own faithful maman and my loving, no-nonsense, fierce Catholic Busha. I was deeply moved by the experience and Pope Francis’ remarks on religious freedom. I hoped these two strong women who are no longer with me were looking down from above and smiling at me. And with Francis at the helm, I ended the day with a smile and a feeling of hope about the direction that the Church may be moving.

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Vocabulaire:

mais parce que j’adore mon amie et sa fille: but because I love my friend and her daughter

To read more about what Papa Francesco had to say to our papal audience from Saint John’s University, click HERE.

 

No. 342: Arrivederci Tuscana

So long charming beauty,

cobbled streets, steep, stone stairways and solitary cypress.

À bientôt windswept hill towns,

vast valleys, medieval ramparts,

and burnt Siena edges.

Ciao for now silvered olive trees,

Romanesque chapels, streaming sunlight and painted sunsets.

Arrivederci aromatic Brunello and salacious Chianti,

already missing the rustic Italian good life and countryside pace…

No. 341: Tuscan Wines

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On my short visit to Tuscany I have discovered many things to love, not the least of which are the wine, and the lovely and genuine winemakers and sellers we have had the pleasure of getting to know. I have entirely enjoyed the Chiantis and the Vino Nobile de Montepulciano. I think what makes Tuscan wine so divine for me is the whole experience: the luminous young grapes, the tidy, leafy vineyards and the rolling vistas that scatter their blues and greens like waves breaking on the sand. It is nice to take the time to really taste and chat and feel the harvest’s link with the land—to be in the moment and greet the terroir.

Vocabulaire

terroir: the complete natural environment in which a particular wine is produced, including factors such as the soil, topography, and climate. “Literal-minded fundamentalists love to call terroir the soil and climate of a specific vineyard, but in truth it’s about husbandry, about sensitivity to place and its careful management so that the best of things can be delivered of it.”

No. 340: Exceedingly Edible Eats in Italy

lunch_tuscany_italy_vineyard.jpgIn alphabetical order…and, a little bit obsessed with Italian pizza…

Biscotti

Bruschetta

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Coffee

Gelato Artigianale

Gnocchi

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Olive oil

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Pizza

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…and one rather strange one…French fry pizza?

…and one rather strange one…French fry pizza?

Tiramisù

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Tomatoes

 

No. 334-339: Five + 1 Things to Love About Tuscany

I know it is another stretch of a post to add Tuscany to things I love about France, but very simply, we would not have driven to Italy if we didn’t live in France. Travelling down through the south of France, we thought, “What the heck, let’s go to Tuscany!” It has been on the bucket list forever, and there is no time like the present, non?

So far we have not been disappointed, although, I don’t know about the whole under-the-Tuscan-sun-thing. For most of the time we have been under the Tuscan clouds, but yesterday, the sun finally came out. That said, the light has been extraordinary in the clouds, mist, and sunshine, and the family time more than precious. Even for this dedicated Francophile, it has been nice to have a short break from France (although there are so many French here, some days it feels like we never left). The Italians have been gracious and gregarious (except for the Florentines, who can definitely give the Parisians a run for their money on the unpleasant and rude front) and the food, of course, has been fantastic.

Here are a few favorite things I have notice (and loved) about Tuscany on this trip:

Laughing out Loud Loudly

I had not realized how much I miss hearing other people laugh out loud loudly. It is so very rare to hear French people laughing out loud without reserve in public. In Italy it seems like a requirement to laugh out loud.

I am a big laugher, not an annoying one, but I do like to laugh, so being back in a culture where it is okay to express your happy self in public is terrific. I also love watching (and hearing) Tuscans talk to each other. At first I thought every conversation was an argument, but it seems like they are simply just very animated (loud) here. It is liberating to not feel like you have to be reserved and talk in hushed tones all the time. As much as I love the quiet restaurants in France and the French desire to keep their private lives (and observations) to themselves, it has made me quite happy to see strangers laughing it up in public and wearing their emotions on their sleeves.

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The Lack of Litigiousness

Compared to the USA, both Italy and France fall in line with this lovely lack of litigiousness. We enjoy the fact that it is possible in both countries, to do and see things that in America would be a lawsuit-waiting-to-happen. In the States you can sue anyone for anything. No one takes personal responsibility for anything.

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If you trip on a crack and slightly injure yourself on your neighbor’s driveway in Colorado, go ahead and sue them. The potholes are too big after a huge snowstorm and your scalding hot MacDo coffee burns your leg as you drive down the highway? Sue the city for the lack of immediate street maintenance and Mickey D’s for making their coffee too hot. In France and Italy it is the opposite. Climb a narrow winding 700-year-old staircase with your enthusiastic dog, but without railings or proper lighting to capture the perfect sunset over Siena, do it at your own risk. Ride the crazy whirly-doo at the local town fair without seatbelts and be encouraged to stand up and dance in the middle and drag a few strangers with you, bien sûr! Have as much fun as you want. Just remember, it was your decision, you are responsible for the outcome.

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Piazzas

Italians do plazas and grand gathering spaces really, really well. As much as I love café sitting in Paris, it is just not the same as sitting in the sunshine in one of these grand piazzas and being overwhelmed by the history of those who have come before you, and those who are living the experience with you at the moment. Nothing beats an Italian Piazza for people watching.

Prosecco

The Italian’s answer to the French’s champagne. I love them both, but sipping Prosecco with your family and friends on your terrace overlooking Chianti is pretty darn magical.

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source: wikipedia

Burnt Siena Rooftops

The rooftops in Tuscany are very different from the Paris rooftops, but equally as lovely. After spending a few weeks in Tuscany, I now understand where all those colors in the 100-pack Crayola crayons come from. The rolling waves of tiled tops make me want to paint.

Teeny Tiny Cars

As I have posted previously, I am nutty for the teeny tiny cars of France. (Remember I come from the environmentally unfriendly land of the mighty SUVs and Humvees.) So while in Italy, I have forced my family to stop every time I see an adorable mini car. Cliché moi especially loves the itty-bitty Fiat 500.

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