Sunshine Susurrations

 

My elbow whispers reasons 

so many change to sunbirds

and fly away for the winter.

My legs back, head and heart shout

that I am born of the Midwest

lover of snow

and clear blue skies of winter.

Here I shall thrive.

Adventures in Dixon, Illinois, after Racine, Wisconsin

"Travel" was not a verb but a necessity. The work was not where my home was, thus, I drove to where the work was to be found, a courthouse an hour away, an office two hours away. Always, always, the goal has been to get back home as soon as I possibly could. This year the number of hours spent driving intensified and the amount of hours my children were at home diminished. I became, in a word, less attached. 

With everyone either at work or in school, I have begun to look around a little more, enjoy the journey. After all, I am out anyway. That was very profound, I must say.

This week's pleasures were contained within a single trip. It was Mid-Eastern Iowa to Racine, Wisconsin, round trip in a day. I was somewhat concerned, with my husband out of town for the week, I did not like to be three and a half hours from home for any amount of time, but I was due back by late afternoon.

The day's dawn was uneventful although not without travail. I woke at 4:30 and left home before six with only tea in my mug, the coffee had run out. No matter, I would find a gas station with coffee later, now it was time to make tracks. Not literally, luckily, it was not snowing today. Eventually, I found myself among trees instead of shorn corn fields...the woods of Wisconsin. The sight of a forest always brings me joy. 

My arrival in the sweet town of Racine on schedule to allow for a glance at the water. I parked haphazardly in the empty marina lot and jumped out to greet Lake Michigan. The banks were snow-covered and the waves were fierce. 

 

What a sight. I have not been successful in posting a video here, but I have one up on Instagram, if you would like to see and hear. Why was I alone in the world to greet such magnificence? It was not the temperature, surely, we were in the midst of a February thaw and it was 45 if it was a degree. Complacency, habit, work, who knows? I reveled in the view and headed to the courthouse a few blocks uptown. 

Little did I know the adventures the rest of the day held in store. How could I have?

Presenting briefly, the Racine County Courthouse, designed by architects Holabird and Root, built in 1930. The sculptures are signed Carl Milles, the first commissioned works by the Swedish sculpture in the United States. I love the bronze details on the elevator doors, very Art Deco, close-up below. 

Once my work completed, I dashed back down to the lakeside and took a short stroll. The wind had picked up and was blowing up a gale. My, but it is lovely here. Leaving any body of water behind; ocean, lake, inlet, tears small holes in the part of my soul attached to loved ones and seasides.

Turning away, only then did I calculate where I would need to stop to make the next part of the day work out. I had a hearing over Zoom to complete for another court. This was feasible in any quiet place with a reliable internet connection and privacy. I counted the miles and chose a likely candidate, Dixon, and called their public library. A nice lady informed me that they did not have rooms, as it was a very small town in the middle of Illinois, but she always directed people to call "the Loveland Center" if they needed to reserve a space. "The address is 513 West Second Street, here is the phone number." I dialed tentatively, wondering just whom it was I was calling. Another kind person picked up the phone, acted as though it were perfectly normal for people to call out of the blue looking for a room for an hour and told me to stop on by, he'd be there until four. 

I was on my way, only, I had exactly two hours and thirty-five minutes until I needed to be set up in front of a screen and connected to this meeting. The best route, according to my map, was 141 miles and would take one hour and thirty minutes. I looked at the clock on my car, subtracted ten minutes, don't judge, that's how I keep the clock in my little jalopy, looked at my GPS and zipped. No stops, no dawdling, no running out of gas. I had to drive. 

A non-stop drive this long may not seem like much to North Americans, accustomed to road trips that look like a pilgrimage in French or German terms, and yet to me, it was momentous, because until around 2016, I was perfectly incapable of driving for any amount of time without falling asleep at the wheel. I am talking about a half-hour mini-trip to a park a town away with a car full of kids. I would pinch myself, drink water, splash myself with water, jab acupuncture points guaranteed to recreate zombies from the dead...nothing worked. 

One day, I had to somehow convey my derriere to Des Moines for my first-ever interpreting conference, and only because I just happened to need to visit the capitol to take an ethics exam to be granted certified status post-Illinois-certification. Yes, we all know that Iowa has different standards than anywhere else one might interpret from English into French and back again. Just look at our state's flag (same colors, same order, same direction as France's) and capitol: Des Moines (of the monks). Only, driving the almost three hours terrified me beyond belief. That's how I ended up with a giant, pink, Coach handbag. It was my neighbor's idea, really. 

She heard me fretting about the drive and told me, "you could cut it in two parts, using the outlet mall as a mid-point stop with things to do." I had never been to the outlet mall. Ooooo, shopping alone?! Say no more. I am not a shopper by nature, however, this whole "outlet mall" held appeal for thrifty me. And alone? With no one expecting me to look at that or hurry up or find the nearest ladies' room right now. I could do this. I did. The bag? I needed one large enough for dictionaries and legal pads, water bottle AND thermos, and it was 80% off and 10% off on top of that, just think!

And never once since that day have I had a problem driving and remaining conscious. But this was going to be a stretch. I usually had pp stops and snack stops and yarn shop stops. Not today. I drove straight through, and I arrived at the Loveland Community House and Museum as planned, ten minutes before the hearing.

A gentleman greeted me as I entered what was a beautiful stone and blond brick building. "You Angela?' reached me from somewhere behind a glass windowed space. The interior was darkened, even compared with the grey of the sky outside, and my eyes took a moment to focus. "Yes, thank you..." even before I finished answering, a man had appeared at my elbow and a door was swept open to reveal a large drawing room holding a board table, chairs, and a most astonishing array of objects in every corner. The golden day bed with a lace doily at the head first catches the eye as you enter, still gleaming in any light at all. "Take your coat off and make yourself comfortable," he said as he closed the double doors behind him and left me to get to business. Wow. 

The internet worked just fine, the call was connected, taken, ended, and I still had a minute to discover the remainder of the interesting artifacts in the room and hallway, the rest of the museum was closed for the day. Look!

I was still home early enough to cook dinner for the kids. They did the dishes. My kind of day.

Surround Yourself with Sound; How to Grow Some French Ears

 

Surround Yourself with French: Listening Suggestions

Bring the sound of French into your life, in as many ways as you can! Ideas, resources, and all our favorite audiobooks and podcasts, listed below. The audiobooks are available on Audible in French. The podcasts are clickable and free.

Le Club des Cinq, Enid Blyton (young sleuths solving mysteries out on their own in the 1950’s-60’s)

Le Petit Nicolas, Jean-Jacques Sempé, about the adventures at school and at home of the little Nicolas, who is mostly in trouble and often cannot figure out just why. Set in France of the 1950’s. Hilarious.

Les Misérables, Victor Hugo, especially if you want to get your money’s worth in French: it is a rather long 56 hours in length. And if you like detailed description.

Harry Potter is still a delight in French, and as you know the story, easy to follow.

Sneaky Advantages Discovered by Bilingual Children and Spouses

Yes, it is still really, freakin' freezing cold here in Iowa, but I am posting this entry all about foreign languages from August to warm you up.  It is from a second blog of mine on a platform that is closing.

04 August, 2021

What is the advantage that a small child learning two languages will miss, but becomes apparent very quickly later? The fact that communicating a juicy bit of gossip or highly controversial opinion in public incognito-like may be possible in the other tongue.

NO! I do not encourage gossip or disparaging remarks under any circumstances, but it may be seen as a sufficient motivation for a kid to keep up their language skills in the target language.

Like this day, when it may have been whispered; "Papa, j'ai failli pleurer quand j'ai donné une souris à manger à l'hibou." or "Papa, I almost cried when I gave the owl a mouse to eat." The young naturalist did not want to be seen as less than capable, but in her tender heart something else was happening that she felt free to express only in another language.

When vocabulary skills are limited in the beginning stages of a language, it is great to have a few key words that on their own send a signal to the partner/family member that there is an urgent need to communicate secretly, or an event to observe. "La crise!" in French translates to "Holy crud!" and is just the word for many an occasion. "Trop fatigué" can mean "it's time to head home, find a good excuse." In our family, this phrase is used, for some odd reason, in French combined with Pig-Latin. I could not for the life of me, tell you when or where that began. I must have taught my husband Pig-Latin one day so that we could talk without the accusation that we were using English in front of the family.

Again, the question will arise of good manners. I do not advocate for speaking in another language right in front of someone, unless it is while interpreting for two parties who cannot communicate, but when there could be an eavesdropper lurking around the corner, it can be handy.

Youth, and the less young, must be wary, however, of their perpetual habit of conversing in a mix of two languages. When your comment includes an unpleasant term that you habitually say in English in the midst of your French, you will be the object of glares and scorn and suspicion. "T'as vu, là-bas? On dirait un big booger sur sa chemise." Yes, the "booger" will get you into trouble, especially when combined with the English adjective that seems to flow in relation to the object.

But if it means they are making an effort to put into practice their second language...it is sort of fun, isn't it?

Quebec in All Her Glory-Charles André Marchand

Land of French, land of snow, what else do you not know about Canada and in particular, that bit of it that is Quebec? As a child growing up in France, one learns of the Great Separation that almost was, the New France Quebec could have become, that there are bears and cabins in the woods, and great, peaceful expanses of wilderness. I know almost nothing of the very European metropolis that is Montreal. 

 

Today's guest brings us the music, literature, film, sports, and fine cuisine of this sliver of heaven in the north. Charles André Marchand, a gifted author, sports radio host at 91,9 Sports, journalist, interpreter, actor, and more, kindly agreed to sit down and chat with Thierry and me, and we discovered just how cool (how French for Thierry, how French AND North American for me) is the land of Quebec, and how much one life can contain. Join us for a rollicking walk through the quartiers of Montreal, football, history, and culture.

 

Books by Charles André Marchand, first, his latest work of fiction, Arcade et Gail, Volume One, Les Amours Impossibles, and Volume Two, co-authored with Katherine Girard. His latest non-fiction works are two volumes of Pégre QC, a history of the underworld of Quebec which was simply fascinating, the most fast-paced non-fiction I have read in ages. These are in French, as are his earlier works, but if you are looking for a good audiobook to slow down and listen to, Pègre Quebec is a great choice, especially if you happen to be a court interpreter and/or a history buff. I am both!

 Find the episode here; don't miss this one, and please subscribe! 

Food, Culture, French!

The food alone in France has its own glossary of words, never mind music, festivals and nature. What is left for you to discover in this great world?

You have within you, possibilities yet unexplored. The languages you do not speak have a power to express parts of you in ways you have yet to discover. Look at French, for example and the expression; "Bon appetit." You have had the pleasure of chopping, sautéing, seasoning, mixing and baking for hours to prepare a magnificent small feast you are proud of. If only there was more to be said than; "Dig in!" The French have a way of appreciating fine cuisine that is not better, but perhaps more refined than what exists in English. Food is culture, tradition and made and served with love, not with a splat to the plastic plate. The produce has been lovingly picked out and maybe haggled over. A baguette is agreed upon according to degree of baking; "not too done", "nice and brown", or "just so." The wine is chosen according to the course, one's palette and what happens to be in the cellar this month, but always with care. The only possible phrase to celebrate a meal of this caliber must be; "bon appetit!"

Discover "le mot juste" to communicate what you want to say, what you must say, in French. The words are waiting, the adventure as well.

I will be sharing more on language learning, France and French this month. Stay tuned. 

Feathers of Frost and a Polar Vortex Kind of Day: Survival Guide and Celebration

                     The Coldest Day of the Year is Here

I went to bed anticipating exactly the sort of day I awoke to, fabulous works of art on my windows, painted in the night by Jack Frost; to the north we have a delightful new feather pattern I have never seen before covering the entire outer windowpane, the inner one left with merely a fancy slope of icing along the bottom edge, just to let me know this is serious stuff. To the west there is a beautiful decor of tiny star bursts dotting the entire field of vision, more thickly bunched to each side. 

Nothing gives me more of a cozy thrill than a day at home when the temperature will not reach 0 degrees. To the poor people who miss this each year when they flee south for three months...my heart goes out to you. 

"It's just not as cold as it used to be," can be heard around here, here being deep in the Midwest. Well, today it is, and we seem to be down to about one week of this each year now, which is just sufficient to put one in the right frame of mind for looking forward to the springtime again. I love these days, and this one is even better, because there is no reason for me to go back out in it. 

How cold is it? Well, let's see...I have been traveling around the state for work since Sunday. Sunday felt cold, but it was 16 degrees F., I believe. Saturday's snow dump had just barely been cleared away as I was departing. An hour before, on the road conditions website, parts of the highway were still marked "covered by snow and/or ice" and "towing not advised per state mandate." My red nose and cheeks can be seen in a quick video I shot to show the pretty, white Iowa landscape. I had been out of the car for all of 30 seconds and I looked like a 17th-century washerwoman at the end of a long week. 

If French is Your New Year Thing to Do

Relax, pour yourself something nice; green tea, fizzy water or a sparkling glass of champagne to celebrate this new chapter in your life. You have waited a long time to conquer this task of French language fluency.

You are about to invite a language, a culture or more than one; (Canada, Africa, France, exotic islands...like Tahiti) and all of the insight, joy, food and love that goes with it, right into your own home. Chouette!

I will be right here by your side, Thierry too, as you renew with the French speaker who lingers within you. Over the course of four weeks, in just 10 minutes a day, your ear will be adapting, remembering that long-ago French once learned, and you will speak, exchange, grow.

Let us look at just what enables one to incorporate another language into mind and ears, and back out of the vocal cords.

This has been ruminating about for some time; since I was 19 and noticed that many of the exchange students went back home after a year abroad fluent in French, yet others were still woefully inadequate as speakers of anything other than their native tongue. Why? I had no special skills or gifts in learning, I was certainly not the kid who finished my year with no accent. I did, however, end the year fluent in French. Were we not all immersed and thus in the most favorable conditions for acquiring a new language? It was not the old disadvantage of age; we were all between 16 and 19 that year. In the following years, patterns would emerge, some involved method, some the company one kept.

I went on to teach English to the Spanish and later to the French, then French to Americans. The running joke between my students and myself was;

"How did you learn French so well?"

"I live with my teacher. Don't suppose your partner would object to you moving out for six months, would they? Get a local fellow/gal."

Right, how about we go back to that bit of French we were working on again?

The idea of learning with a partner stuck with me, and grew into a plan to make it easy to do. Speak each day with the one you're with? Oui. Sure, you can wake up and say; "Let's speak in French today," and: good for you, if you do. But having a method: a meaningful dialog in the form of a script makes it easy to implement. I wrote one especially for last year, for the Great Staying Home for two adults to share; at home, across the world via video, anywhere; French at Home; A Conversation. More followed; French a Debut for beginners, French Abroad for travel and French with Kids, for the whole family.

As to method, when I first started teaching, I began in a strictly prescribed trio of lesson plus workbook plus group exercise used by the language schools of the 90's. True, that worked sometimes for some students. What worked every time, though, was a student interested in learning, engaged in their own progress and conversations on topics relevant to their life.

A friend of mine hit on the prime impetus for language and for the dialogs we use today; "a statement should elicit a response. If you ask your beloved; "do you have the keys?" The response will be spoken, "Of course I do/I have no idea where they are" or physical; holds up key chain and shakes keys. You both see a direct correlation between what is being said and the answer; spoken or acted upon. In other words, use language for communication.Talk to someone you like, or maybe love.

Hacks to Homeschool Happier

 

HOMESCHOOLING FOR THE FREE-SPIRITED 

 

Rule to Remember: It does not have to be a drag.

In fact, learning at home can be joyful and rewarding and create moments, habits and a way of looking at the world that last a lifetime. Our homeschool days were always a mix of formal and carefree. I guided the younger children more and trusted that the older one grew, the easier it became to discover what was interesting or important enough to pursue. 

I need to rephrase that; the younger ones had a regular rhythm of meals, play, read-alouds, naps and bedtime, but we did not pursue anything academic at an early age, (unless you count the year I attempted to do an at-home-after-school boxed French curriculum each afternoon after kindergarten-disaster).

News! Book to be Published Soon

It seems the most precious things are also the most fragile and closest to our hearts, so we protect them and keep them hidden away. What have you not told the world? What do you think you don't know about anyone else that might be absolutely phenomenal? Why are we keeping all of these mysteries and closeted skeletons which are truly harmful to none?

 

Mine is the book. 

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of a Foreign Language

If you grew up with the feeling that you ought to be beguiling princes of foreign lands in their own tongue, climbing mountains while conversing in Tibetan or German, or weaving with the sisters of an island encircled by sky-blue water while speaking fluent Greek, you will connect with this feeling. We make the daunting, vast world smaller and more real by speaking each other's languages. Language is the last frontier we get to conquer. Desire for connection is a basic human value, and even anglophones feel its lack at times. 

 

When Love Meets Art: Lana March Interview on French Please

I just spent the day with an extraordinary human. I feel more likely to be loving, to appreciate beauty, to honor the true in each person in my life, to explore art in new ways, listen to more music and...to work on my French grammar. 

This is a feat, and I want you to have the opportunity to hear her in the interview we just completed as well; Lana March, poet, artist, photographer who has chosen the light in all aspects of her life. The podcast will be out this week. Bring some joy to your day, your life, and listen in. 

Connective Tissue Disorder (EDS) and Exercise

Neighborhood kids would call each other over to see me do the splits, all the way, without effort, when I was four years old. 

That ability remained, along with the weird, bend my thumb back around to the other side of my arm thing, ankles that could twist, doubled over and around, over nothing and go right back, but it was not until many years later that I discovered these were the result of a debilitating condition that meant that the springy parts of my youth were now the cranky parts of my body. 

PODCAST Creation...French Please!

Introducing...French Please, the Podcast! 

Find my favorite episode here: Lost Found and How do I Say That Again?

Is French in your dream curriculum this year? As homeschoolers? As a couple? We made something for you! How better to share this language I love than through the spoken word? 

The Artwork of Children, Today and Tomorrow

Every parent knows the sweet feeling the comes over you when your child offers you a drawing, from the simplest of purple stick-figures to the most elaborate painting or piece of sculpture made of wire, papier-maché and those funky styrofoam puffy guys. The final result has nothing to do with your feelings of pure love, joy and pride in this kid's creativity. You are part of them, they are part of you, and object in question was produced by them, thus it somehow becomes an extension of this lovely spirit.

There is a new tug to the soul that can come when it is time to sort out, to choose, to not keep every single bit of this flow of creative genius.