One itty bitty statement from my last group email leapt out at my husband: “dreamt last night in french.”
Here is an excerpt of his email.
Ma chambre
One itty bitty statement from my last group email leapt out at my husband: “dreamt last night in french.”
Here is an excerpt of his email.
Ma chambre
date: sun, jan 18, 2009
date: Fri, Jan 16, 2009
I didn’t break it, I promise! Fortunately all was well with Madame (Yes, I told her about it!) She simply moved about 5 heads, really, 5, up higher on the shelf so that I could have a place to put my makeup and lotion.
date: Fri, Jan 16, 2009
date: Fri, Jan 15, 2009
Right off the bat I started doing extra stuff at the school. That’s what I was there for (learning French and doing new things) and I was really into it. This included doing exercises on the internet. What kind of exercises? Well, the kind where you insert the correct answer into a sentence, usually choosing from multiple choice answers. (No, it wasn’t rocket science; but it was a fast and fun way to learn or confirm what you already knew.)
While doing one of them, I had to crack up. I thought of my dear friend Mary Hunter and how she would crack up too. So I sent her the following email:
date: Thu, Jan 14, 2009
subject: I just had a Mary Hunter mement! [sic]
(It was supposed to be moment. Just TRY typing on an European keyboard!)
Bonjour mon amie!
I was just now doing an exercise for French on the computer where you choose the correct answer. Question was, “Mon père a . . . ans.” (My father is . . . years old.)
The answer was 50!!!!!
Feel it?
I felt you laugh with me!
besos,
Susan
And her reply . . .
date: Fri, Jan 15, 2009
subject Re: I just had a Mary Hunter mement!
ah oui!!
NY TIMES pictures of the day today (Friday) included one of two kids rolling a snowball in front of the Eiffel Tower, so I had a Susan mement! Hope you are warm enough…
how do you say “blessings”??…a bientot, mon amie! xxoo multi besos!
•••
I’m in my late 40’s. She’s in her early 50’s. Most of the “kids” at the school are between 19 and 21 years old.
Feel it?
C’est moi avec mon amie Mary Hunter.
date: Sat, Jan 9, 2009
It’s a 2 star that’s really more like a 3 star. I suppose the only difference with a 3 star is that breakfast is extra. But the room is really nice. Okay, really nice to someone like me who’s a born optimist. But I think it’d even be nice to someone like say . . . I won’t say her name, but many of you know who I mean. I have a private bath WITH a nice bathtub. And two windows which look over THOSE stairs I trapsed up! Pretty cool. And 2 neat art deco yellow chairs.
Okay, so to the first day. After finding the hotel and being told I couldn’t check in for all of 40 minutes (half French, half English . . . I seem to have a way of shaming them into still speaking French to me even though my skills are quite pitiful . . .) I set-off to find the Sacre Coeur (after leaving my suitcase behind OF COURSE!). I found it easily enough after having a nice chat (en Francais!) with a lovely lady with an even more lovely dog. Yes, beautiful dogs are everywhere in the world.
Then back to the hotel to find my room (#205, a very audacious number don’t you think?) check out the toilet, slightly unpack (very slightly, I’m only here for 2 nights after all) and then head of to Gare de Nord (again!) to buy my ticket to Lyon. It was a very pleasant walk via the Sacre Coeur (of course! plus it was on the way). I made it in good time and managed to buy my ticket 10 minutes before they were closing for the day. I managed to hack my way through completely in French until the lady rattled off in Olympic record spead, 1:54 or 2:54 p.m.???? Okay, I broke down and asked her to please write it down. No writing! she replied, and just as quickly she switched to English (this lady has surely medaled in SOME Olympic sport of some kind!). Okay, 1:54 p.m. s’il vous plait. Free with my one chore of the day done, I meandered down the main boulevards switching to a smaller one when it got really interesting (lots of shops and things . . ) until I found myself at Les Halles. It was really cool looking since the afternoon light had hit that wonderful martini hour. Wow, what’s that church over there?! It was lit up so beautifully.
I boldly asked a man which church it was, he replied in French, well Notre Dame, of course! Notre Dame? I took lots of pictures . . . . and wandered on over wondering why I hadn’t crossed a bridge yet to the Cite.
I happened upon a cool sculpture of a HUGE dome like rock of a face with an appropriately large hand on the side. Snap, snap. Too good to pass up. But is this Notre Dame? doesn’t look like the one I remember?
I hele’d on down the road, found myself by the Louvre Place whatchamacallit. Decided to cross Pont Neuf and voila, there was Notre Dame!
Was the man conning me or a tourist too?? Doesn’t matter. I sure enjoyed that first church and the magical light around it. I proceeded to then find the street and address where Mom and I are going to stay in February (the original plan of my husband joining me after 4 weeks was nixed; I added 2 more weeks to my stay in Lyon and will be in France for the 8 weeks booked so long ago . . . ). My oh my, how did I find such a cool place???
By now it was 6 p.m. and I hadn’t eaten since the warm airplane croissant around 9:30 a.m. I went for the cheapie 10 Euro dinner with french onion soup, pasta and an apple torte completed with a 13 euro half bottle of wine. Sounded perfect to me! The waiter was very friendly. So friendly that he offered to show me around later in the evening. I very politely but non-ambiguously said, “Merci, mais NON!” He caught my drift but continued to be a decent waiter. Then I found the metro and voila, I was home to chez Roma Sacre Coeur whatchamallit room 205.
The next morning I woke raring to go at 4 a.m. Yep, 4 a.m. I decided to linger in bed a bit and watched some telly. Found a bit of this and that (including Dallas ala 1980s, they still watch that???) and even a German promo show on how to buy something wonderful to make you look beautiful. I figured that was cheating, so I switched back to some symphony. Then that seemed like the perfect time to doze yet again. So, from 5:30 a.m. to 8:30 a.m. I slept beautifully until the phone rang! Yes, the phone rang! Who could that be? Had to be Tony. Who else has my number, unless they wanted to wake me up for the 8 euro breakfast (the way they’re all hurting these days for business, I wouldn’t put it pass them). But there was NOTHING on the line. Darn.
Again, the phone rang. Again, nothing. Okay, must be time to get up and take a soak. Please realize that I left home LONG ago and hadn’t bathed. It WAS time. I took a soak in tepid water thinking that tomorrow I must bathe much earlier before all the hot water is used up. Slowly I got ready, walked to the cafe next door and had a loverly breakfast of bread, butter, jelly AND a croissant and TWO wonderful decaf coffees avec creme.
Then, the highlight of the day. I took the metro to Hôtel de Ville to iceskate! Remember Nancy telling us about this last June? Well, they still do it. I paid my 5 euros for the use of some very well-made patin and glissed for over 2 hours! Yep, for over 2 hours. It was just too darn much fun to stop, especially after the sun came out and lit up the entire rink.
When I look at my calendar notes from a year ago today, here’s what I see:
– S. French lesson
– mailed DVD to D. @ Grand Hyatt
– S. trimmed mock orange hedge, listened to Les Miz.
– T. finished poster for E., printed @ UH Kinko’s (M. agreed to delivery . . . )
– T. to Ycamp, windsurfed and got T’s camera
– T. rehearsal in Lihue, came home with idea for Sunday
– S. watched French movie with RG
It must have been a day off because there’s no “S. office work” or “shoot @ . . .”.And when I thumb ahead I see that there are no more entries like “S. French lesson” until late in the spring of the following year.And you can see that on 9/24/08 I did several things relating to French studies—the lesson, listening to the story of Les Miserable (en francais for kids) and watching a movie with Rocket Girl.For those of you who know me, yes, I did get to go to France four months later to study French, but I didn’t crack a book once between the 24th of September and then.Why?Our life was about to change though we didn’t know it at the time.
Looking at the calendar notes, I see that M. at Kinko’s agreed to deliver a poster. This was a big deal because Tony had been working hard on a surprise poster for a friend with cancer.He and his wife were in Honolulu where he was being treated with radiation.Tony had photographed the important people in E.’s life and made a fabulous poster—a collage of all these happy, smiling familiar faces.We wanted to bring some sunshine into his life, surprise him, and remind him that he wasn’t alone and that we were all thinking of him.Long story short, it was going to be too late to get the poster to him before they left Honolulu because of all kinds of boring, real-world things.So I called back.
“It’s really important that it gets delivered because . . .”“Okay,” she said, “Someone can simply drive it over to their hotel.”
Sigh.We were so glad to know that they were going to get it.We imagined their happy faces and felt glad to be able to do a little bitty something to make their lives better—for the moment.
Little did I know that this was the last week that my 87 year old Dad would ever play tennis.
An 87 year old man playing tennis, you ask? Yes, my Dad was an amazing athlete.He’d been playing tennis since he was a kid in Knoxville, Tennessee during the depression.He and some life-long friends made a court in the dirt.Little did they realize how much that one simple act would affect the rest of their lives. Earlier in September 2008 Dad had won a three hour match at a national tennis tournament. Yes, a 3 hour match!And he and mom had driven to the tournament in their 35’ motor home.
So, fast-forward to Sunday, September 28, 2008.Dad had trouble putting his shoes on for church that morning.
Refusing to be discouraged by his heavy feet, he met friends at the court the following day for their weekly match.The heaviness continued and by Friday the 3rd of October, he couldn’t walk.
Later, I wrote some letters to girlfriends about what was going on.