A DAY IN A FRENCH LIFE by Kristi Espinasse
When I am old and wrinkled—well into the troisième âge—I want to race along the shores of Brittany on my Mobylette, that most groovy of French bikes with an engine!
I want to be an eccentric vieille dame. I don't want to care about what anyone thinks, as long as I am not imposing myself on their philosophie de vie. I'll ride my old bike along the seashore. I'll wear black goggles and wrap a long wool scarf, in orange potiron, around my neck. Off I'll fly, scarf ends flowing in the wind.
I'll let go of the pedals, WHEEEEEEEEE… and sing a song by Yves Montand—or a tune from Les Misérables—depending on my mood.
I'll pack a picnic with all my favoris. Inside the panier there'll be boiled eggs, anchoïade, Gratin Dauphinois, pungent cheese, a soft baguette, and a flask of Earl Grey. There'll be tangerines to eat and a few squares of dark chocolate.
I'll gather delicate coquilles from the foamy seashore and tie them to my shoes. You'll hear the jingle of seashells when I pedal by.
My voice will be agreeably hoarse, not from les Gauloises or le vin but from whistling all the day long—a habit I'll have picked up at the beginning of the century when a certain Frenchwoman cautioned: "Les femmes ne sifflent pas! Women don't whistle!" That's when I puckered up and blew another tune… and another… and then one more!
I hope to have a dear old friend, one who is much more excentrique than I. She'll dye her white hair rouge vif or aubergine. We'll tchatche about the current generation and how people need to loosen up and 'profiter un peu de la vie,' enjoy life a little, like us.
I'll say, "Pépé—les oursins!" and my old man will return from the rocky pier where he has spent the morning hunting sea urchins. When he cracks open their coquilles, revealing the mousse-like orange roe, I will remember that real treasures don't come with a price tag.
I want to live near the seagulls so that I may slumber beneath their cries and wake up to the whoosh of the sea. I'll push myself to a stand, smooth back my white locks, adjust a faux tortoiseshell comb, and say "Dieu merci!" for another day.
Before I tuck myself into bed at night I will, once again, empty mes coquilles into an old metal cookie tin, a treasure from long ago. Looking over to my seashells, I will give thanks: my cherished, tired tin runneth over.
"Hat freckles," Me and Smokey. I love straw hats!
Today's story is from the book Blossoming in Provence–a good gift for Valentine's day! Order here.
French Vocabulary
Listen to the following list of French words: Download MP3 or Wav
le troisième âge = retirement
Mobylette = a particular model of moped, a vintage Mobylette
une vieille dame = a venerable lady
une philosophie (f) de vie = a life philosophy
orange potiron = pumpkin orange
favori(te) = favorite
un panier = a basket.
Wicker market basket. A classic market basket
l'anchoïade (m) = anchovy purée mixed with olive oil
un Gratin Dauphinois = a potato casserole with milk, butter and cheese
une coquille = a shell
la Gauloise = brand of cigarettes
le vin = wine
excentrique = eccentric
rouge vif = bright red
aubergine = eggplant purple
tchatcher = to chat (away)
le pépé = grandpa
un oursin = a sea urchin
Dieu merci = Thank God
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My old man
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I used your au gratin recipe this week, thank you. It was great. The nutmeg was so good with it. Your story today reminded me of a time there was a special event at a big mall in Dallas. The MC selected an older woman and offered her a prize for whistling the Andy of Mayberry theme song. “LADIES DO NOT WHISTLE!” she said. He picked me next and I gladly whistled it and won the prize.
Well, I shall be as nutty and off the wall as you, or moreso, I’m sure, and I would be thrilled to be your friend who is more than willing to dye her hair the colors of a rainbow….
The main thing is not to care a farthing about what anyone thinks.
From a wise elderly woman I love to quote: What other people think of you is none of your business.
Beautiful vision… make it so!
Pati AIne
Thank you for this lovely inspiration! I love your beautiful visions and snapshots of life. I recall the beautiful beaches of Bretagne and revisited the memory and the wish to return! Merci, dear friend!
What a delightful and uplifing post Kristin. Feeling happy and positive as a result. Thank you for sharing.
Kristin:
Tres bien!
Merci,
Edie from Savannah
Even though it’s cold today in North Florida (in 50’s but with nights in low 40’s), the sky is a gorgeous blue and the sun very bright. If it weren’t for the windchill factor, I wouldn’t need a heavy coat outside. Just reading about your hopes for the troisieme age (in which I am well ensconced) warms me. This spring or early summer I will venture on the beach areas – not to swim but to walk and enjoy the rock formations. We have a large state park nearby which is named Washington Oaks (property was donated by George Washington’s nephew to the state in the nineteenth century). There are many trees, bushes and plants throughout the park and a river on one side which is available for fishing. There is a rose garden which is glorious in June. I am hoping to take a friend there this spring before she leaves to summer in Michigan (her home state). Glad you are looking forward to many good years ahead.
Dear Kristin,
I read your delightful troisième age/ joie de vivre story today with misty eyes and a smile on my face. You can reach right into person’s heartstrings with your expressive writing.
Thank you so much and best wishes. (PS: I always wanted to have freckles and now I know how thanks to your great pictures!)
Our dear Kristi,
THANK YOU for such a beautiful,inspiring and moving post today!(once again,as always!)
You made all of us,your fortunate readers,reach deep within ourselves,from whatever vantage point in life we are….some to hopefully look forward,some with smiles as we look back,and some(no!ALL of us!) to stop for a moment and just give thanks for wherever we are.
When I was your age,I loved to try to imagine my troisieme age,but never did I imagine the joy this time of life could bring,the inner peace,the liking/accepting myself as I am,the joie de vivre,
and most of all,thanks to God for all the blessings we have been graced with.
In our younger days, Rod and I would laughingly refer to each other as “the old lady” and “the old man”(this was about the same time that the Moblyette was called a Solex).Well,now we really ARE exactly that and after 50 years together,every day is still something wonderful to be shared and savored,together.
You are such a gifted writer!Each of your books are as wonderfully special as you are,each gifts us with the pleasure of being part of your life,and wrapping us in hugs.
Merci! Never too many times!THANK YOU!
Love
Natalia XO
Chère Kristi .. I much prefer ‘venerable’ to ‘old’. Merci!
Clay is right… Watch for the scarf in the spokes. That’s how Isadora Duncan died. She was riding standing up in an open car, and her long, stylish scarf got wrapped around a car wheel and broke her neck.
I loved the rest of the post, since I am approaching mon troisieme age…
“…My cherished, tired tin runneth over.” about as perfect a sentence (fragment) as anyone could hope to ever write. brava.
That was beautiful! No more words needed.
Dear Kristin,
I have read only a few of your posts, but I say that you are a very brave woman.
May God’s blessings be yours every day. P.S. I very much enjoyed your Youtube video with Smokey and the Yogurt cake!!!
Sincerely, C-Marie
This book is on our nightstand, thanks for this refresher of the magic it holds.
Hi Linda,
I’d love to get together with another Francophile for coffee or a beach walk if you’re interested. I’m at Ocean’s Reach until the middle of March. Joyce
Chère Kristin, I have the same image of me but riding up here in the high desert mountains of northern New Mexico!
a mon Avis, Une de tes mieux vignettes philosophiques! Brava! Que nous nous meme realizer les beaux jours des annees de notres viellesse: In my opinion, one of your best philosophic posts. I pray that we both will live to enjoy and flaunt our carefree days of old age!
Bonjour. Reminds me of the poem “When I am old I shall wear purple” by Jenny Jones – but a French uptake.
Very good. If only when we get to that age we can do these things we decide we shall in our younger days!
Hi Kristin,
Just a note for the Yogurt Cake, the leavening is baking powder rather than baking soda.
All the best, C-Marie
You are beautiful outside with an amazing, shining soul. Once again your words gave me laughter and tears of joy. Merci!
Always love your entries written with humor and grace! My grandmother from the South in the US, use to say “A whistling woman and a crowing hen come to no good end.” It must be an international saying.
Please continue to bring joy with your inspirational words.
Thanks, Dotty
Well said, Patricia. I, too, am enjoying my “troisième âge” and I look forward to each and every day. I think our attitude has a lot to do with it, don’t you?
Kristi, this is one of my favorite posts from you!!!! I love it, I love it! Je suis d’accrd !
Thank you for this joyful, zest for life post. You made my day.
I love how French differs from German so much: in French you pronounce almost none of the word and in German you pronounce all of it. Fascinating!
BIG merci for linking to past entries in your new ones, Kristi! It is now janvier 11 2019, and here’s Moi reading this delicious piece for the very first time! Yes, yes , yes to every vivid, lyrical, merry syllable!! Such ebullience is catching, y’know!
Sounds wonderful! I shall be there myself in early Nov for a month. A friend and I have decided to rent a place in Florida for a month to escape the dull grey days in the U.K. Cant wait to visit the islands of Captiva and Sanibel. We are renting a house in Port Charlotte. Enjoy your vacation!
Best wishes, Lynda