Thursday, November 28, 2019

Thanksgiving in France

It feels weird to wake up in bed on Thanksgiving morning and not jump up to get busy cooking.
Things are so different here. I'm making sweet potatoes with whiskey, along with apple pie. We're eating at 3 at a friend's house, so my day stretches out relatively free.
We met a friend for coffee, ordering a second round since I didn't have to rush back to teach online.
The strange thing is that I know if I need to buy last minute ingredients, I can. It's only a holiday to us Americans. No one else is taking the day off.
In the States, I might send Earl out to the 7/11 in search of ingredients I forgot. Here, the groceries are all open and ready to serve.
At the market on Wednesday (our town has a market on Wednesday and Saturday), I was thinking about some of the things I enjoy about living in France.
I picked out vegetables at the vegetable seller and she threw in a free lemon. I moved on to the stall that sells eggs and potatoes. I told her I wanted six eggs that were a day old. My choices are 1-day old, two-days old or older. The price depends on how fresh the eggs are.
She places each egg in a carton. Many of them still have chicken poo on them. She says the 1-day-old eggs are too strong for her. But I used them last night in brownies and they tasted delicious. I never thought about the strength of the taste of eggs.
We went for a drink last night with our friends Jules and Jack. I ordered an amaretto coffee and it arrived with a mountain of whipped cream on top.
As the evening grew later, Jules and I walked over to the butcher, who is open until after 7.
She ordered some ground beef for chili. The butcher cuts off a slab of meat and runs it through the grinder.
After he puts the meat or the chops or the turkey on butcher paper, he always presents it, saying "Voilà, voilà!"
I love that he says it as he serves each customer.
Last Friday, we went to a bar for fish and chips. Every other week, the fish and chips truck parks near the bar. They deliver fish and chips to our table as we drink wine from the bar. It's a win-win for both.
The Georges DuBeouf "beaujolais nouveau" had come out, so vendors were selling it in the restaurant. I believe the four of us, with various other English-speaking friends bought three bottles.
Many mornings, I'm tempted to lie in bed rather than getting up and running. I'm not nearly as dedicated to it as I was back in the States. But when I do go out, I'm always happy that I spent time in the morning, enjoying the mountains and sometimes the sunrise.
Sometimes I run out to the local lake. It's a busy road, so if it's still dark,
I run on the sidewalk in this direction, confident cars will be passing. 
 My running friends get a different picture most mornings, so they can soak in the scenery as well.
I'm not writing on my blog as often, but, overall, life is fulfilling and our friends are abundant.
So today, on Thanksgiving, even though we are far from our children and my parents, Earl's sister and brother, along with the nieces and nephews, we're thankful for the new life we've found and the people at home who still love us when we journey back.


Noreen said...

I love hearing about your life in France Paulita, and viewing all the amazing photos. It feels as though I am there too!

Deb Nance at Readerbuzz said...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Just Me said...


Paulita said...

Thanks, Noreen, Deb and Just Me. It's nice of you all to come back and visit my blog, even when I've been such a slacker!

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