Birthday Wish

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AIMEE! We hope you have a great day! Enjoy!

YEAH - VISITORS!

My mom and dad arrived today! How great it is to see them and have them here. They will be staying with us until January 8th. It will be so nice to be with some family during the holidays.
We did a great job of keeping it a secret from the kids. They were completely shocked when they were standing there with us today at school to pick them up. As you all know, Lane is not quiet - but he was speachless for probably 10 minutes, in complete shock to see nan and pop.

Merry Christmas!
Dana

Finally!

Finally! It stopped snowing some time last night. I don't know the finally tally, but it's closer to 2 ft than I'd like. The good news is that even though the drivers aren't really prepared for this type of snow, the street and road workers are. It gets cleared faster and better than it ever did back home. There seems to be a greater concentration of plows and trucks, which is very nice. The only problem is whether or not you can get out of your driveway. Back home in Illinois we had about 400 feet of it, here about 20 ft. It was a welcome change the past few days.

Our British friends however, have a driveway similar to our old one. They didn't leave the house for two days and when I talked to him this morning, he claimed to still have 75 yards of driveway left to clear. So after dropping off the kids at school I headed over with my run-of-the mill snow shovel. After about 5 or 6 shovel fulls I noticed my English friend was staring at me in disbelief. "Bloody hell" he muttered. For a second or two I was feeling cocky. I thought he was impressed with the speed at which I could relocate some snow. Then he followed it with this, "That's an amazing shovel". It was then I noticed that he was holding a glorified garden spade. It would never have occurred to me that someone had never seen a snow shovel in action.

He's lived in the UK, Australia, and California and in none of these locations had he ever had to deal with more than the random inch or two of snow. Thus, he had never had use for or even seen a snow shovel. I couldn't help feeling a little like Tom Sawyer when I said, "Oh, it's great. Give it a try". He handed it back 5 minutes later, I think the novelty wore off quickly.

An hour later we were having a coffee at his kitchen table when he remarked that he now had a free day to do whatever he liked. Seems he had taken the day off to get his driveway cleared.

I couldn't make this stuff up.

Still going.

40 some hours and 20 some inches after it started here's what we have.

And it's still snowing. If this keeps up I'm not sure I'll be able to open the window and take the same picture tomorrow.

They say it's been a decade since they've had a snowstorm like this. Hope so, I like the snow, I want to learn to ski, but this is ridiculous. On the bright side I learned how to put on snow chains. At first I thought it was silly, I've driven on and in snow all my life. One big difference, that snow wasn't on a mountain. A little extra traction is welcome when just to the side of the road is a cliff rather than a ditch.

I'll be sure to post when it finally stops snowing.

Tidbits on the 10th.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. The thing about weather is that it's always changing. You know that saying, "Don't like the weather in Illinois? Stick around, it'll change". I'm pretty sure that they say this or a version of it almost everywhere, outside of possible San Diego. Point is I should have rephrased my question in the last blog to, "Did it snow much here?" . Regardless of what it used to do, the answer to that question in the present form is quickly becoming a "yes". I snapped this picture first light this morning. That was about 8 hours and 5 inches ago. Light fluffy snow has been falling straight down for the last 17 hours. I've been told this is abnormal, and I believe it. If it snowed this much every year, I'd think everyone would have a decent set of tires.

Dana headed to work this morning and again was treated to a commute that took 3x as long, but at least she made it this time. The rest of the day was pretty much ruined, no french lessons, no ballet, no market. At least we didn't have school to worry about.

Finally, legal

We finally recieved our French driver's licenses last Friday. I'd been told we were legit with our Illinois driver's licenses, but I was happy not to have to test that theory.

So I really felt good about it. Like I belonged, a fellow French motorist. Then not a day later I had a motorcyclist flip me the bird for staying in the left lane too long. Guess I was getting too full of myself. But seriously, the left lane is not a laughing matter. In the U.S. it's theory, in France it's a practice. No one stays in the left lane unless passing and no one will pass you on the right. That is no one except an idiot like me. And when I stayed in the left lane too long while trying to locate where I was trying to go, the motorcyclist behind me decided to ride my tail and then flip me off rather than just pass me on the right. Now that's some good driver training.

Speaking of driver training, here's the interesting thing about obtaining the licenses. France only recognizes them from certain States. Coming from Illinois, we only had to fill out a few forms and wait; however, had I been from North Dakota or something, I would have had to undergo a rigourous written and driving test. Maybe, they give a course in how not to be on the recieving end of obscene gestures.

The truffle omellete

Delicious, not unbelievable. Worth more than a Denny's Denver Omellet, but not 5 times as much. Not dissapointing, not overly memorable.

Language Selection

Most of you probably know that almost every DVD you own can be played in multiple language versions and with several different subtitles, but you never use it. On occasion I employ these as learning methods. As I have a propensity for memorizing movie lines, I decided that this would be a possible way to enhance my French abilities. While this certainly turned out to be true, I also made a startling discovery. I've always heard that jokes, and to a certain extent, humor doesn't translate across languages. Well, that may be true, but in my estimation, the translators don't even try.

Here's an example from one of my favorite movies National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I'll give you each version of one line translated literally into English. Keep in mind that that the French spoken version and the French subtitles are not even the same.

English spoken: Yeah, got the daughter in the clinic gettin' cured off the Wild Turkey.

a classic line by Cousin Eddie. Well delivered and conveys the redneck quality of the unwanted house guests.

French spoken: Yes, my daughter is in a clinic because of her habit of the bottle.

Not too bad, still funny. Doesn't convey the cheap, hillbilly nature of her addiction, but then with good wine so cheap, who in France would be a drunk on cheap whiskey?

French Subtitles: My daughter is in the hospital because of her eczema.

What? Can you blame a Frenchman for questioning the American sense of humor after reading that? How is an unprovoked skin ailment the same as someone who drinks too much? What thought process went into this translation? Was it possibly an error? This one keeps me up at night.

I may have to stop watching French versions for a while.

Christmas is coming the snails are getting fat.

Ok, that's not fair. I don't pretend to know the traditional meal for Christmas day in France. Actually, the goose, or at least his liver, are probably closer to the truth. However, I have started to learn a little about the Christmas culture here in France and ohhh is it some great blog fuel.

The Marche de Noel is a French tradition that we absolutely love. Markets, in general, are a part of everday life. I've come to depend on them as a major source of our produce, cheese, meat, and fish. We make purchases at one market or another at least twice a week. So, we were exicted to hear about these christmas markets, and we were not dissapointed. Large cities like Lyon or Grenoble have Christmas markets that occur every day for over a month leading up to Christmas. Small villages, like our quaint little version, make it a grand one day affair. We couldn't wait to go this past Saturday.

The noise was the first thing we noticed. Silence or something very close to it normally dominates the place in St. Martin D'uriage. After having to park a good distance from the action, the noise led the way like a homing beacon. Music, laughter, and shouting, lots of shouting. The biggest culprits were the women selling hot drinks to their cold, damp patrons. These women were more than just boisterous saleswomen, they were also apparently part of the Quality Control department. Vin Chaud (hot wine mulled with spices) is the hot drink of choice for the winter market go-er, and these women wanted to make sure thirsty customers knew the product was safe to drink.

Another man shouted to his friend across the street, "Soup aux choux!". It means cabbage soup. I'd heard about it and this man was apparently ready for some. My fellow Nobelites and close friends know of the famous chowder. It was a very similar situation, thick vegetable soup cooked over fire, sold in bulk, and titled in such a way as to not tell the entire story of the dish. In this case, cabbage soup was probably chosen, because even in France it sells better than Pigs Feet Soup. Hooves and knuckles rested in 5 gallon buckets just below the sales counter, waiting for their turn to be the broth for the next batch of "cabbage" soup. Now, I don't know if we are becoming more French or if we'd have liked it anyway, but, later that night, the four of us wolfed down our large container, trotters and all.

A floppy hatted, apron wearing cheese man as rotund as the Gruyere wheels he was selling entertained us for the better part of 20 minutes. He looked like a character straight out of the opening scene of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Just the slightest interest in his cheese with our strange accents had his full attention. The French love nothing more than educating we gastronomical morons. It's not done to be arrogant, mind you, but they have great food, they know it, and the love to share and discuss it. Some 20 some cheese samples heavier, but 30 dollars lighter we finally peeled ourselves away that stench I've come to love.

Ornaments, nick nacks, and the usual were also part of our bounty. Nothing too grand, save one.

This jar of eggs cost me about 30 bucks. Actually the eggs were nothing special, but rather the mysterious black lump at the bottom of the jar. That my friends, is a truffle. Not the chocolate finger treat, but the fungus native to France. The vender had larger truffles for sale without the eggs but I opted for this concoction for 3 reasons. 1) it looks cool 2) As I'm a beginner with truffles, I plan to try the simplest recipe, the truffle omelette. Supposedly these eggs soak up the truffle flavor and then can be used as the perfect vessel shaved up bits of these little treasures. and 3) The truffles in this jar are tiny, meaning they have less mass, meaning they cost less, meaning I can afford them. At 500 Euros/kilo, I figured I'd start small. I'll let you know if it was worth it.

I've spoken quite a bit about the wine culture here. It's simply part of the lifestyle. When you go to a restaurant, almost everyone has wine. Whether it's moderation or developed tolerance, I'm not sure, but in the U.S. I encounter less alcohol and more drunks. In fact, since we've been here I can't recall seeing anyone that appeared to be intoxicated, that was until Saturday. After leaving the market we had to drive right through town, which was essentially through the middle of the market. Our friendly vin chaud saleswoman had obviously continued sampling the goods. As we inched our way through town, we saw her shouting in the middle of the street, steaming cups in hand. She had apparently decided that her target market extended to passing motorists. I respectfully declined. Seulement en France.

A green Christmas? Most of you know that Europe is much "greener" than the U.S. Recycling, energy conservation and other such methods are a way of life here, not just a novelty to make you feel good about yourself. We opted to take part in one such custom at our local IKEA. We went on Sunday (open only due to a Christmas time exception) to purchase our Christmas tree. It cost 20 Euros, but if you return it after the season, you get 19 Euros back in store credit. In turn, they turn the trees to mulch and sell it. Actually a great idea. The only down side is that the trees are alread wrapped up and can't be selected on asthetic criteria. You can judge the height, but that's it. It's an early Christmas surprise. Ours? It's crooked, lopsided, extremely thin, and absolutely beautiful.

That's about it for now, but I'm sure I'll have even more to write about as we near closer to the 25th. A bientot!

Does it snow much here?

Does it snow much here?

Being a science teacher I've always felt that a good demonstration will tell someone much more than just words. We recieved that demonstration on Friday. So regardless of what anyone tells me, in my opinion, the answer to this question is a resounding "NO". Let me explain.

Very fine wet flakes greeted me as I looked out the window on this Friday morning. The kind that you just know will result in perfect "snowball" snow. Since both of our vehicles were recently equipped with snow tires, I didn't give it a second thought. I could still see a lot of grass poking through the white stuff, certainly not enough to impede my daily schedule.

Dana left early that morning, around 6:30. I called her an hour later to get a road report even though I wasn't at all worried. It's about a 30 km drive into work that takes her around 25 minutes or so. On this morning, one hour of "driving" had yielded her only about 6 or 7 km in distance. I quickly realized we had a problem, although the problem wasn't necessarily the snow, but those driving on it.

I took one turn out of our drive and was immediately greeted by my first of many French lessons through my driver's side window. I was told that the route was blocked due to an accident. Luckily I've jogged on almost every road in a 8 km radius around my house (searching, unsucessfully for a flat road); so, I knew a back route. As I started up the hill, I got to witness first hand just how poorly their normal tires work on snow. They don't. The driver asked me to help give his a push, which I did. Unfortunately, when I stopped pushing he stopped moving. Thankfully, he decided that he wasn't going to ask me to push him the remaining kilometer up the hill. We went around and he used gravity to go backwards.

The next conversation I had informed me that I couldn't use my first attempt at a back route. I asked her about another route and she replied "troup dangereuse". I decided to take my chances. It was slow going, but I made it to the main route without a slip.

Then, again I was told not to take my intended route, which is one of the largest roads in the area. I asked if the route was actually closed and was told "no", but was also told something about it being slick and dangerous. Since I had not yet slipped once on the less than 2 inches of snow, I decided again to risk it. Parked haphazardly along the route were no less than 30 vehicles. People were everywhere talking, smoking and holding their palms up in frustration. The kids and I? We drove right through at about 20 mph.

I was in North Carolina once when they recieved about 8 inches of snow. The place was shut down and drivers were all over the road. I was reminded of this while driving around on this morning. No one seemed to have a clue how to drive in the stuff. Also, several had obviously opted not to buy snow tires. The bottom line is that I feel confident that snowfall is rarely too plentiful at our level of the mountain.

Had it not been for the other drivers I would have made it to school in only 5 minutes longer than usual. As it was, I the 5 minute drive took 45 minutes. Being so concerned with getting to school, it never occured to me that the teachers and other parents were the folks that I had been laughing at along the roads all morning. After parking we immediately saw kids walking the wrong direction for the morning commute. They were shouting with glee "No School!". Regardless of the troubles we had making it, it never crossed my mind that less than 2 inches of snow would result in a day off of school.

The trouble now was that I didn't really care to run the gauntlet back home. So we headed to a friend's house to play in the snow and have some hot chocolate. Luckily for me the husband was home, so I had someone other than the ubiquitous mom to talk to. Unluckily for him, he was home because he and his Renault had gone careening down his 1/4 mile long 45 degree angle driveway earlier that morning. It's hard to head to work when your car is imbedded in a guard rail at the bottom of the hill. He's been in France for three years, I guess the custom of waiting to put on the snow tires has worn off on him.

Meanwhile, Dana never did make it to work. She spent the morning at a different friend's house have coffee and tea. It was a great morning for the family to sit by the fire and have a hot drink, even if we did it at different places.

The good news is, the "catastrophe" was short lived. The temperature here doesn't stay below freezing for long and the plows did a good job. By early afternoon everything was clear and all was back to normal. I actually headed to Barcelona with some friends later in the day, but that's another story.