A Couple Things We'll Miss

Hi. This is Eleanore.
We each have thousands of things we're going to miss,
but we decided to narrow it down to a few things each.
This list does not include people. People will have their own post soon.

Frances...

"Seeing alien flowers and picking up seeds. Today when I was walking with my  mom, I found a WHITE poppy. That was the only one I've ever seen."
(Remind us to tell you how to make a little french girl out of a poppy)

"Watching the slanting water from the fountain."

"Riding bikes with Clara at the Mas."
(We didn't have photos of Frances riding bikes but this is the Mas)

"The Place. It's just so cool that a town has one."

" Going to the Nougatine.

We went there on our first day. And we'll go there on our last day.

Sometimes we go there for the food and

sometimes we go there for the owner of the Nougatine. 

Eleanore calls her Madame Short and Squeaky.

I call her Mini Mouse. She's so cute and and she always says, 'Bon jour-uh.' "

 

"Dogs. The only blog I did was French dogs, so you know how much I like them."
(My mom said Frances would definitely see dogs in Truckee;
Frances said she never noticed the dogs in Truckee before.)

"Towers.

Can you name one tower in Truckee?

I like them because they wind and the stairs are so close together."

Me, Eleanore...

"Old Stuff. Everything in France is old. I mean,

in America, things are definitely pretty old, but not 2,000 years old.

The oldest thing in Truckee is less than 150 years old--

except of course, the Petroglyphs on Donner Summit.

Old is special. You always wonder what it's gone through and what it's seen.

I always wonder that, anyway."

"Trees lining roads. When trees are lining the road there's a canopy above you.

A green, thick canopy. It feels like you're driving to a palace and the road was made special just for you."

Walking the Loop. When we walk the loop it kind of hits every type of land. The first part is just a road. The second a forest. The third a long creek that we do leaf-races in. The fourth, pasture land, full of baby sheep. And the fifth, a park with grass up to my chin. When we got here it still not even above my shoe. On this loop sometimes we make stories up, sometimes we peak in places, sometimes we sing, sometimes we take artsy photos (like the horses farting). It takes about an hour. Along the creek there is a little log that we named Uzee (because my grandma used to pronounce Uzes "Uzee"). It's long and goes up at a slant. In its reflection, it looks like an alligator with an open mouth. We say hi to it every time we pass.

Cobblestone streets are in every village around here.

Cobblestone has shape to it instead of a flat, boring, black asphalt street.

Playing white-to-white.
I play a game where I run and jump from white paver to white paver. It's very fun.

Vines on stone structures.

The colors go so well together.

That light green and the gray.

But it's not just the color. The vines are like a waterfall.

(Here we are back at the 2,000 year old Roman bridge. This time with Clara.

We skipped rocks under the bridge and threw rocks over the bridge).

Bisous. Pronounced beee-zooo.

They're a fun way to greet and say goodbye to people.

Bisous are three kisses, back and forth, on each cheek.

Bisous go by so fast that you don't have enough time to take a picture of them.

After this photo of Myrtille and Frances and me was taken,

we gave each other bisous to say goodbye.

Myrtille is the main woman at the University Populaire, where we took our art class.

'Bye people. It's 23:43.

That means it's almost ZERO.

I need to go to bed.

My mom will continue...

Quick biosous comment:

The other day a friend asked if we Americans do bisous! I wish!

But then I really like those long, close hugs, too!

Jeff...

"Bike rides on winding, one-lane roads with hardly any cars."

"Chemins (litttle roads). The dirt ones out in fields or the walled ones between neighborhoods."

"Hanging out with Carolyn on the terrace, eating olives and cheese

and drinkning wine and talking and listening."

"Agriculture everywhere. Fields of wheat, acres of vines, small farms and gardens."

"Exploring. Whether on my bike or in our car, or on our walks,

I love checking out new paths."

"Watching my girls play together. In this case, on the roof of our apartment. Of course they'll play together when they get home to Truckee. But this experience has forced them to be each other's playmates and I've loved watching them grow closer."

Me, Carolyn...

Bed-time with Frances.

When she's tired, this girls unoads it all in heartbreaking & precious detail--

fears, dreams, obsessions, curiosities, griefs, injustices and loves.

I love how vulnerable she is in these times.

How easily she shares. How much she needs the time together.

We've got lots of secrets stored up from these past months.

Blog Construction with Eleanore.

We have learned each other's rhythms and humor and quirks.

We've brainstormed together, composed together, edited together.

I'm in awe of how late she can stay up, how hard she works, how well she dictates.

I cannot think out loud.

She can, eloquently and with such a great sense of balance between humor and introspection.

I've learned so much about her.

And will miss this little side-job of ours.

Watching Jeff with his girls.

I have never. I swear.

The guy can spend hours making flower necklaces with them in a field,

or dedicate an entire morning to studying and drawing their favorite door in Uzes.

He entices them to climb walls just to see what's on the other side.

He shows them how to throw rocks further and higher.

He sneaks off and picks out the perfect fancy sparkly silvery shoes for Frances

and can spot the hippest top in the shop for Eleanore.

They think he's so funny that they actually say, "Be funny now, Daddy."

He learned to french braid hair just the other night...

and makes them play poker with real money.

A month or so ago, Eleanore said she wanted to marry someone just like her dad.

Frances wants to marry her dad.

Smart girls.

Photography. I love taking photographs!

Speaking French. Finally, after three months, I'm thinking in French!

The other day a woman stopped me mid sentence and said,

"What a good accent you have!"

All the better to talk you to death, my dear.

I think the French in this town had their meeting and have decided unanimously to continue engaging with me until I leave.

They see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Walking everywhere.

It's uncanny how much TALKING can happen on a walk!

No meditative walks for us!

Walks are where Frances asks about

god, dogs, reincarnation, and puberty.

Walks are where Eleanore reaches out to hold my hand, unsolicited.

Walks are where we swear the crazy, speeding french driver that just nearly hit us

was the same one who was just a few moments ago was enjoying a long lunch with friends, chatting as if there truly was no time at all.

We have a car now but we still walk everywhere.

We promised each other when we get home

we'll walk or ride our bikes to New Moon

twice a week for groceries.

Hold us to it.

I want to keep everything at a walking pace.

Enjoy the short video below

(taken without the subjects' knowledge!):

Biosous.

Goodnight.

Carolyn