Maison + Malade =

Homesick. OK. I give up trying to pretend like I can learn in 3 months what a French woman knows after 20 years. The idea struck me on the heels of an incapaciting stomach bug, exasperated by my endless to-do list. I had taken on so much that by the end of October, the time of our trip to Normandy, my body decided to shut down. I don’t blame it. If anyone, I point my finger at my parents and anyone else who encouraged my insanity to forsake family, familiarity, and the following:

1) Mon Kitchenaid me manque.

Once by myself, once with my sister, chocolate chip cookies were made with this weird vanilla flavored baking soda powder stuff. Last week was a lovely apple tart from a recipe from Cooking Light which everyone still found a bit lourd (heavy.) Anyone that knows me can attest that I am neither Paula Dean nor a Farenheit to Celcius processor nor a cups to grams calculator.

2) Le système éducatif des États-Unis  me manque.

Last weekend I stayed in the first arrondissement of Paris with my host family who helped me conquer Musee d’Orsay and a hilarious A Midsummer’s Night Dream (set in the 70s). That preceded Tuesday’s La Toussaint, the national holiday of strewing chrysanthemums about the cemeteries. To quote my grammar teacher, never give French families that flower and never faire le pont (skip that Monday of classes between the weekend and the Tuesday…) What happened to my lighter, American load of classes with logical breaks?

Ma soeur et moi devant l’Arc de Triomphe.

3) Le soleil me manque.

It might be 60/65ish regularly here but I would appreciate seeing Mont St. Michel, St. Malo, Loches, or Chenenceau without the rain. The center of France in the middle of autumn is one big puddle.

Pinch me! (The visit to Chenenceau was surreal.)

4) TUTF me manque.

I was beginning to wonder if French people run track at all when I finally discovered a little soccer field ringed with synthetic red tartan! A bus ride from my house, the entrance required jumping over this chain link fence (my spandex and therefore myself getting snagged mid-straddle a meter above a staircase. Fantastic). Reunited after two long months, the track and I passed a few moments of silence in the fading sun before my deathly 600s. Every sprint workout tears at each muscle down to my heart, alone without my TUTFers.

(╙╠╣╜= I’m feeling it.)

After spending a night on the actual Mont St. Michel, I awoke early to run amid the blues and pinks of dawn.

5,6,7,8) Mom et Dad et Jon et Mitt me manquent. Nuff said.

Taytay: Found this WWII American troops’ board which reminds me that I beat my French brother the other day. You’ve less than 2 months to try and get better ;P

5 Comments

  1. Glad you are feeling a little better, other than being homesick :( (I was praying for you, girlie!) Oh, to see the pics of Mont St. Michel and Chenenceau again. I was at those places in 1984- they are such beautiful places to see. Did you go to the church at the top of Mont. St. Michel? Breathtaking.

    By the way, your Kitchenaid has missed you but has been in good hands (literally) since you’ve been gone. Thanks so much! You’ll have it back when you return soon. :) Holiday baking, whoot!

    Love you~
    A-Dawn

    Reply
    • Why thanks! And I couldn’t have left my Kitchenaid in better hands :) And it turns out that my French sister can cook while I’ve restarted my baking obession. So funny how everything and nothing are the same…

      Reply
  2. Sur votre ratez troisieme point, prenez a couer! Dans environ 1 1/2 mois, vous sere en Floride, ou le soleil brillera presque tous les jours.
    Heureux que vous etes mieux en mieux chaque jour. Prenez soin.

    Prier pour les soin de Dieux por vous tous les jours.

    Vous Lolo

    Note: Hope this gets your grammar teacher’s approval., If not blame the bookmarked Google translator.

    Reply
  3. so….pointing three fingers back at yourself…too? we and I certainly do miss you, and will continue to lift you in prayers….
    loved you,
    Hopeful me manque….
    mama

    Reply

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