A Little Summer Break: This journal will return in July. I leave you with one more story from my daughter, who’ll return to France very soon…so soon she can already taste it! More in today’s story. We thank you for reading and sharing these missives.

TODAY’S WORD: la marée : tide

PRONUNCIATION: mah-ray

EXAMPLE SENTENCE:
Comme la marée, les comparaisons entre la France et l’Amérique vont et viennent.
Like the tide, the comparisons between France and America come and go.

FISH EYES AND FRENCH TOILETS by Jacqueline Espinasse 

The heat is rising in the city and, when that happens, Vin and I take the Metro-North Railroad from Grand Central Terminal to Connecticut. Come to think of it, in France we would probably take the TGV or the TER for local stops.

Connecticut is part of the New England coast, and I cannot help comparing it to my first love, la Côte d’Azur.

As we arrive in the town of Norwalk, we instantly make our way to the beach. On the French Riviera, the air is scented with lavender. But here, as we walk, another fragrance takes its place: the sweet perfume of white flowers, smelling just like honey. Back home, we call them le chèvrefeuille.

“The tide is low today,” Vin says.

Je rêve. The Mediterranean doesn’t really have big tides, maybe eight to sixteen inches at most. And then you can see jellyfish washed up on the sand at Sainte-Maxime and hear locals shout, “Attention aux méduses!”

On the coast of New England, however, the tides range from two to four meters. Huge rocks emerge from beneath the water farther out along the coast, and the underwater life reveals itself.

Vin doesn’t like low tide. “It smells a little more,” he says, “and I just don’t think it’s that appealing.” 

La marée basse… I remember vacations in Bretagne as a child; it did smell a little more like seaweed there.

Hot nights in Norwalk are spent on the patio, warmly hosted by Vin’s parents. We have good wine, a big barbecue, and lively conversations.

“Do you eat fish eyes here?” I say, sur un ton d’humour.

“Oh no, not at all, Jackie,” says Luke, Vinny’s brother-in-law.

My mom used to tell stories about moving from America to France—about drying racks instead of electric dryers and strange French toilets. Almost three decades later, here I am doing the same thing, telling stories and sharing quirky cultural differences. Like the tide, these comparisons ebb and flow.

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FRENCH VOCABULARY  

la marée = tide

la Côte d’Azur = the French Riviera

le chèvrefeuille = honeysuckle

les méduses = jellyfish

je rêve = I’m dreaming

la marée basse = low tide

sur un ton d’humour = jokingly; in a humorous tone

les yeux de poisson = fish eyes

(missed one vocabulary term for the soundfile: Bretagne = Brittany. See any other “oublies”). Thanks for letting us know.

REMERCIEMENTS
Thank you to the following readers for your donation this past week to this journal!

Al K.

Julie C​.

Nancy M.

Saundra H.

…and Betsy F. who writes, “Always a pleasure to contribute to FWAD. Enjoy reading Jackie’s USA discoveries.” (Don’t miss the lovely snapshot of Betsy and my mom at the end of this post.)

Current and forthcoming books. Click here to see all five books based on this blog. Thank you for your book reviews at Amazon, Goodreads, and elsewhere. They really help!

BOUCHE-À-OREILLE
French Word-A-Day has always grown thanks to readers sharing stories with friends and family. If someone comes to mind while reading today’s post, why not pass it along?

Love, care, and reader support—that’s what has sustained this journal for nearly 25 years. Week after week, and now with the help of my daughter Jackie, we continue sharing French words, culture, and everyday life with readers around the world. If you look forward to these letters and would like to help keep French Word-A-Day going, please consider making a contribution.

🌿 Zelle – to Kristin.espinasse@gmail.com
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That’s all for now. Take care and see you in July! I leave you with a happy souvenir from 2012 with Betsy Foree, a longtime reader we bumped into in La Cadière d’Azur while Mom and I were having lunch at Le Central. Betsy lives in New Mexico and is an avid cyclist who loves biking in France.

P.S. Check this out! Betsy writes: “Ralph & I build the first petanque court in the foothills of the Sangre de Christo. It’s obviously not La Ciotat regulation size and we make regional rules…which change on a whim. You can see the metal ring we must stand inside and Aubut balls I found at a La Cadiere vide Grenier. Come play!!. We only have 2 sets of 3 balls BUT there’s hope for 2 more sets: Santa Fe has a Boule Club!! Oh, you can see in pic the cochonet..orange ball. So much fun.”

(I can see Ralph and Betsy meeting up with some other fun readers of ours, Gary and Lou, from Boulder. They happen to be in the area, now, and they too are avid cyclists and pétanque players!)