What a lovely note, thank you Carole. I have many beloved friends in Australia and yes, it's far away, but I feel as if you can remain Parisienne in spirit wherever you are, love of beauty and food, right? Though, it's nice to have the actual baguettes.
The Franglais! It burns! Haha! You should have seen the English signs in Greece, where I lived for years. International Decorative English is like a new developing dialect. You are hilarious. I am also an American adrift in Europe and am enjoying your representation of this familiar giddy state.
Technically, I am French - 100% French from Angouleme, but having lived in many different countries - first as a child with my parents ... then with my teaching diploma in my backpack - except for some 7 years in Paris when in my 40’s, I have spent my entire life away from my roots. And so, Susanna, your current series that could be titled Life a la Parisenne makes me smile. Every episode highlights the lovely, quirky, at times charming but, at times challenging plot beats of life on the other side of Australia, the side of the globe where I currently reside. Thank you for sharing, Susanna, and may you keep enjoying the daily Parisian challenges with grace and a lingering [inner] smile :-))
Delightful as your articles always are. What a peculiar and, somehow, unexpected turn for the usually quite precise French to have taken with the "blending" of their language with English! I couldn't really understand how most of the phrases came to mean what they did. I was touched by the ending with the girl with baguettes sporting a"Love Now" jacket that made you homesick for your kids! Hugs, Wissie
Another Schrobsdorff delight! A crookie of words. I'm going to take a wild guess and ask if Eat Dust means 'fast food here,' as in "eat my dust." I LOVE "running in high heels on cobblestones"-- and love your spirit of adventure.
I feel your struggle with relearning a language—the process is basically banging your head into a wall until the knowledge gets imprinted. It's so rewarding when you succeed, though! Thanks for sharing a bit about yourself, Susanna!
Thanks Bethel. I 'm a little bruised, mostly my ego, but truth be told I can now get through a week at a time without someone answering me in English or handing me the English menu before I speak, so, progress.
That's exactly how it feels. When I was in landscape architecture school we had gobs of plant identification classes and had to learn the common and latin names. A classmate and I would walk the campus calling out names of trees and shrubs and suddenly one day it all CLICKED, like a switch went off and suddenly we were jabbering in bursts of latin. I grew to adore the plant names once it started making sense.
The one with you seated between two windows - classic! The wire is on the right side of the picture. Just me being picky with distracting elements on what is otherwise a great pic.
Susanna thanks for the obligatory dog photo. I’m in Paris so missing mine, so all of the puppy p*rn all the way please. I always love spending time here immersing in the flotsam and jetsam of daily language. Yesterday I saw two young American travellers falling about next to a sign offering to sell them ‘sexy chicken’ behind Eataly. I haven’t tried it, maybe the birds are especially shapely or they ask your star sign or something. The other day I walked past “Fédération Française des Artistes Prestidigitateurs” and I all but died of happiness when I translated it, at what such a group of people gets to be called in French. It’s a magic trick in itself. In a bouyant mood, I later celebrated by commending my favourite, very patient and capable server in my neighbourhood cafe for her wonderful care by, I strongly suspect, calling her a dishcloth. I yearn for the rubbery little sponge of a brain of childhood. Loving your posts which I’ve just discovered. x
What a lovely note, thank you Carole. I have many beloved friends in Australia and yes, it's far away, but I feel as if you can remain Parisienne in spirit wherever you are, love of beauty and food, right? Though, it's nice to have the actual baguettes.
As I sip my morning coffee, I am dying for a crookie! Better a crookie than to eat dust 😂
“Learning French is like running in heels on cobblestones….” Hilarious and so true!
Aw, thanks Sasha, so many things in life are a little like that.
The Franglais! It burns! Haha! You should have seen the English signs in Greece, where I lived for years. International Decorative English is like a new developing dialect. You are hilarious. I am also an American adrift in Europe and am enjoying your representation of this familiar giddy state.
Haha, you're funny Tania, yes. it does. And yes, giddy is the word. Thanks for reading.
I'm told Madam Pee is in the Philippines as well
Haha! With the word "pee" like it's universal?
Technically, I am French - 100% French from Angouleme, but having lived in many different countries - first as a child with my parents ... then with my teaching diploma in my backpack - except for some 7 years in Paris when in my 40’s, I have spent my entire life away from my roots. And so, Susanna, your current series that could be titled Life a la Parisenne makes me smile. Every episode highlights the lovely, quirky, at times charming but, at times challenging plot beats of life on the other side of Australia, the side of the globe where I currently reside. Thank you for sharing, Susanna, and may you keep enjoying the daily Parisian challenges with grace and a lingering [inner] smile :-))
Amazing -- the store names!!! Love this, so funny and then the end is perfect.
Thanks so much for everything Aaron.
Delightful as your articles always are. What a peculiar and, somehow, unexpected turn for the usually quite precise French to have taken with the "blending" of their language with English! I couldn't really understand how most of the phrases came to mean what they did. I was touched by the ending with the girl with baguettes sporting a"Love Now" jacket that made you homesick for your kids! Hugs, Wissie
Aw, thanks so much Wiss. So glad you liked it.
Another Schrobsdorff delight! A crookie of words. I'm going to take a wild guess and ask if Eat Dust means 'fast food here,' as in "eat my dust." I LOVE "running in high heels on cobblestones"-- and love your spirit of adventure.
Janice ! Thanks so so much
Eat Dust is a men's clothing store. So funny. ((Put the product info in the captions.)
Just enjoyed reading the English store names, Eat Dust being my favorite.jabberwocky reference was great too
Thanks so much, Joyce
J'adore--both you and this essay. And Love Now? Yes, please, (I am always feeling toast. And like toast. 😂) ❤️
Thanks so much, and yeah always more love, more bread, more chocolate
Glorious writing...thank you!
Love from Cape Town SA
Aw, thanks so much for those words.
I feel your struggle with relearning a language—the process is basically banging your head into a wall until the knowledge gets imprinted. It's so rewarding when you succeed, though! Thanks for sharing a bit about yourself, Susanna!
Thanks Bethel. I 'm a little bruised, mostly my ego, but truth be told I can now get through a week at a time without someone answering me in English or handing me the English menu before I speak, so, progress.
That's exactly how it feels. When I was in landscape architecture school we had gobs of plant identification classes and had to learn the common and latin names. A classmate and I would walk the campus calling out names of trees and shrubs and suddenly one day it all CLICKED, like a switch went off and suddenly we were jabbering in bursts of latin. I grew to adore the plant names once it started making sense.
i’m even enjoying getting even half of it.
Enjoyed as always. Like the picture - Photoshop the wire on the left to get rid of it, or retake the picture! Otherwise it's great.
Anthony
Wait, which picture?
p.s. thanks!
The one with you seated between two windows - classic! The wire is on the right side of the picture. Just me being picky with distracting elements on what is otherwise a great pic.
Susanna thanks for the obligatory dog photo. I’m in Paris so missing mine, so all of the puppy p*rn all the way please. I always love spending time here immersing in the flotsam and jetsam of daily language. Yesterday I saw two young American travellers falling about next to a sign offering to sell them ‘sexy chicken’ behind Eataly. I haven’t tried it, maybe the birds are especially shapely or they ask your star sign or something. The other day I walked past “Fédération Française des Artistes Prestidigitateurs” and I all but died of happiness when I translated it, at what such a group of people gets to be called in French. It’s a magic trick in itself. In a bouyant mood, I later celebrated by commending my favourite, very patient and capable server in my neighbourhood cafe for her wonderful care by, I strongly suspect, calling her a dishcloth. I yearn for the rubbery little sponge of a brain of childhood. Loving your posts which I’ve just discovered. x