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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Thanks, I really enjoyed reading that – grabbed a minute of my own, in middle of multitasking various thorny issues and feel refreshed and ready to make a good start on the rest. Merci, Kristin, pour le petit philosophie (not good French but I’m trying!) L.
Loved your post today – Go for it! And it reminds me so much of the poem which starts “When I am old I shall wear purple……” – see below and enjoy!
http://www.laterbloomer.com/jenny-joseph/
Dear Kristin, That is such a lovely story with lots of great energy. A way to live our lives. I must buy your latest book, that will be one to add to my collection . merci beaucoup Carole from downunder xxx
Fabuleux!
Bonjour from Sanibel Island, Florida! I just read your blog while listening to the waves from the Gulf of Mexico crashing on the beach, and feel like I’m living your story. My Sweetie and I have been spending most of the winter as “Snowbirds” since retirement. We walk the beach watching the shore birds scrabble for morsels from the various sea creatures that have washed ashore, pick up shells along the way, marvel at the morning glories blooming in February, and ride bikes on the miles of bike paths. What fun it is to wear a multicolored blouse, green sea glass earrings, a deep blue sea glass pendant and carry a bright pink shoulder bag. Life just keeps getting better!
Thank you for your blog and books. Keep on writing and sending photos of your life in France.
Hi Kristin,
I enjoyed the post today! I would love to be with you on your adventure! As I was reading I could totally picture your Mom with her capes, hats and scarves whizzing along beside you on her mobylette!
What a wonderful philosophy, which you seem to be already living long before becoming a vieille dame. : )
Hi there Joyce, just had to drop you a line. We are Brits now living in France but remember several fantastic, leisurely holidays on Sanibel Island – one of our favourite places in all our travels. We often talk of returning one day. Enjoy, enjoy!
Pure poetry, Kristin! Thank you for encouraging those of us who are of retirement age that life should still be exciting!
Just the nice break I needed!
Thank you very much : je me suis ré-ga-lée!
I’m looking forward to getting into your 3ème age style! I’ll love it!
Shouldn’t take very long to get there though : I’ll be 55 tomorrow and… wrinkles are already there!!! 🙂 Have a very nice weekend.
Well, that was one of the most perfect pieces I’ve read in a long while. Completely transporting. Merci!
Kristin,
I loved this story! I have the same dream and want to say Do it Now!
My hair is not red or purple but I’ll be your slightly crazier friend! I love collecting shells and want to go to Brittany with a kindred spirit. Enjoying Sauve this winter and am trying to be here for the summer this year. I remember my sweet visit with you before you moved. I am collecting my Watercolors for another book. Love your spirit and also the last post you put up about 13 years- Bravo! Bisous Alison Johnston “Thyme in my Pocket” author/artist
Beautiful Kristin! I loved your book. It is a fantastic valentine gift. Bravo.
Creative and ultimately touching..
And want to add beautifully written.
Thank you Kristen for your gift of words!
Hi, Joyce, I’m down here as well. And, yes, I found myself smiling and thinking how lucky I am to be able to beach walk AND read Kristin’s glorious words, all in the same morning!
Thank you for that glorious way to begin my day – filed with joie de vivre! You’ll be whistling, I’ll be singing. <3
I am always moved when I see this beautiful book cover photo.
I, too, thought of the Jenny Joseph poem “Warning” popularly known as “When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.” In fact, I once gave my mom a book by the same name, with the forward by the poet and signed by the editor, it is a collection of poems and essays of this nature. Yours would fit right in! I haven’t looked in that book in years. I think I will go browse it now with a 2nd cup of coffee. Thanks for providing a bright and comforting spot in my day.
Kristi,
That was beautiful. And I continue to love the photos of you and Smokey and “the old man”!
Lovely story, Kristin…not too far from living that life at 72…minus the bicycle. Inspiring…and I love the pic of you (with your hat freckles) and your beloved Smokey!! Thanks for sharing…just got your book and will dive into it shortly!
xoxox to you and your family.
Kristi, one of the most lyrical and colorful pieces you’ve ever written! Brava and thank you!
Just lovely, Kristin. Beautiful images!
Oh, Kristi, thank you for this beautiful post! I adore all the lovely imagines it conjures up in my mind — you and I on old rusty bikes, my hair long and aubergine, you turning the heads of “les vieux”, your Earl Grey flask clanking up against my chilled rosé, and a couple of sweet dogs running hard to keep up with us!
Absolutely lovely.
It was an amazing coincidence to open up your post this morning, after seeing the current film “Brooklyn” last night. In case you aren’t familiar with it, your history is the same as the Irish girl who leaves “home”, to find a new “home”, only in reverse. Indeed…where is our “home” and as we age, do we keep inventing new ones as you describe?
Beautiful words and images! Thank you so much for sharing your magical visions! I can hear the delightful music of those coquilles and your whistling.
Loved the freedom of spirit your article invokes. In my troisieme age, when I am bored. I stop in at a non-profit store that sells donated high-end china and such for the benefit of a children hospital. I often pick up pretty things and stop imagine the lives and travels of the former owner. Recently I picked up a pretty ceramic vase that I believe was made in France. It has two soldier walking all dressed in dapper uniforms passing a gal walking a little dog. I would love to send you a photo of it to you to see if you can tell if it is of that origin.
You have a a wonderful role model. Your wonderful mother, Jules. She is unto herself, one of a kind, except for me of course. Love and laughter and the freedom to break the rules.
J’ai bien aimé cette petite histoire. Je suis un peu excentrique aussi comme mémé .
Wonderful philosophy ! At my age the only one . I also live by Jenny Jones poem “When I grow old I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens And learn to spit.
Bonjour Kristin:
I will be reading your lovely book on my kindle in Mazatlan. Your beautiful words remind me to live life each day as fully as possible…and to have fun doing it.
Amities, Janine
Kristin, your writing here reminded me of exactly what Audrey Wilson quoted above. So touching, and yet so positive. So far from youth, and yet so close. We all need to remember that age is only a number. Youth can go on forever.
That dreamed of seashore is now in your own backyard! There is nothing better than living near the sea and languishing in the sounds of all things nautical. Once again, you have painted a vivid and beautiful tableau with your imagination and words. Brava!
I have no doubt this will be your future. A writer’s epilogue.
Kristin, it sounds like you’ll enjoy your golden years. Your positive, youthful outlook is refreshing. “Life’s for Living,” is one of my favorite mantras and I use it often when I autograph my books.
Loved it the first time I read it and love it still. That is the spirit I intend to have in my golden years and even now. N
Quel beau rêve, Kristin! And you have such a great way of conjuring it so that your readers can view your dream almost like a film playing out in front of our eyes. I was a fan years back but somehow managed to lose track of you for a while when my life went crazy. Never forgot about you though, because as you can see, I’ve re-found you and so glad I did. I have a question. What kind of dog is your Smokey? I had one just like him when I was a child and I swear, “Chief” was my âme-soeur (dog-soulmate). You will likely understand that because this type of dog is such a loyal and loving companion.
Just don’t be so carefree that you forget safety. No scarf ends in the bike spokes!
It is good to dream, but life is funny. I am well into age and I hardly have time to sit and ponder. Life is very full and very busy. It is wonderful! We live in a big city and have much to see and do. We go to concerts, see great art, read wonderful books and enjoy many restaurants. Life is full of old and new adventures daily. We are on a large lake and near woods so nature is close by. Also, we have an international airport available which we use to travel world wide. Fortunately we have family within a 3 mile area that keeps us happily occupied. There are many ways to “age”. We are aging in place with bikes to ride along the lakefront or down into town. With classes at a local university and daily exercise at the gym and Pilates….not to forget piano and french….I am really very occupied. This is only possible because of good heath and desire.
Yes !
Hi Joyce ~ Greetings from the other coast! In spite of the chilly winter, it’s still lovely to be here … although I am counting the days until France in June for two months. More writing, research and joie de vivre! So good to *see* the joy in your voice! Bises
Dear Kristin ~ I’m well into the troisième âge and life has never been more full, satisfying, and filled with my own version of “coquilles”. I believe yours will be too! On y va!
This was absolutely perfect! I do hope to live the same way!! Many thanks for this post, Kristin.
Best ever! My eyes are full of tears. Thank you Kristin. Love to JM, Michael (& Aimée)
Nice picture of your old man and doggie.
Absolument belle. Merci. Such a gorgeous free tableau you paint for us today Kristin. I love Brittany. Hope we settle in to a seaside locale on the Med or the Pacific in the upcoming months. Carpe diem and each years new adventures.
Delightful story, Kristin! And lovely photos of you, your old man, and sweet Smokey…thank you for sharing this with all of us!
In addition to the ‘Purple’ poem, what came to mind was Ronsard’s “Quand vous serez bien vieille . . .” in which Ronsard claims that the old woman will be proud of the fact that she was the subject of his poems, back when she was beautiful. And I thought, how much better to be celebrating old age as a time when the pace of life is more relaxed, and we have learned not to judge–and not to care if we are ourselves judged–by appearances.
I too thought of the poem…when I grow old I shall where purple….
We all look for different things when we retire and have the luxury to do as we wish. For some of us we are more busy now than before, what with our volunteering for this organization or that one and I for one have a hard time saying ” no I can’t help out, not this time”. I have trouble sitting and relaxing an doing nothing. I do go on vacations and that is when I can truly relax…when I am away from it ALL.
Today we got about 10-12″ of snow and I shoveled the walkway and shook the snow off of the poor trees that were bending to the ground under the weight of the very wet snow.
I will relax tonight and sit and read.
Thank you Kristi for the lovely story and maybe someday when I am old I might actually become more like the person you describe.