Summer Reads review

A recent review of 'But you are in France, Madame' touched me as, despite never having met, knowing nothing about me other than what the reviewer had read in my book, her words show that she has really grasped the essence of who I am. She focuses her review on our respect and love for the French culture, in spite of (and sometimes (with teeth gritted) because of...) the difficulties of living in France. I am sharing an excerpt of her review below and for the full article, click here

http://www.eatlivetravelwrite.com/…/summer-reads-but-you-a…/

"Catherine is an evocative writer and paints a picture with her words which will whisk you away to her life in France as you read each chapter. But perhaps even more than Catherine’s way with words, what I loved about this book was the family’s utter respect for the French (language, culture, people) and their surroundings. Instead of complaining about the mind-numbing pace at which things sometimes move, the quirks of #lifeinFrance and the frustrations that go along with all that, Catherine and her family seek to integrate fully into life in their new home, questioning things, for sure, but mostly wanting to make sure they are doing the right thing, even if sometimes (often) life in France is difficult. As Catherine says, despite the tongue-in-cheek nature of some of the stories she shares, the family really did love everything about their life in France. The book is also just as much an exploration of French culture (with a bit of history thrown in for good measure) as it is a story of an expat family living in the French alps."

If you haven't already purchased my ebook, it would be lovely if you used the link in Mardi Michels article, as it is part of the Amazon affiliate program...just a small way of showing your (and my) appreciation - and it costs you no more. The article is part of her Summer Reads series...and while you are there, have a look around at Mardi's blog Eat. Live. Travel. Write.

PS If you would prefer a print copy, then another Affiliate link is to be found in Kristin Espinasse's French word-a-day blog. Again, a purchase here would be so very much appreciated by us both.

Merci Beaucoup...

Monsieur Vélo rides again - Cycling the Galibier

France Today - Monsieur Vélo rides again

For those of you who are new to the blog, let me introduce you to Monsieur Vélo.

His first appearance 'Just say it's Monsieur Vélo' was the result of a chance meeting whilst out on a bike ride, at the top of Semnoz, near Annecy. On this occasion, he was treated to French warmth and hospitality.

In today's France Today article, Monsieur Vélo is once again on his bike, and once again, the kind recipient of French generosity.

For my family and I, living in France, this French welcome has also overwhelmingly been our experience and for that we say 'thanks'.

Welcome to 'But you are in France, Madame' and bonne lecture!

Climbing and rambling

* (see translation below)

I suspect that today's blog is going to be a rambling affair. But, give me a rambling rose and I am, figuratively speaking, plunging my nose into soft, velvety prettiness; talk to me about your ramble in the woods, and my lungs will fill with imagined fresh air and my head with Enid Blyton adventures, pop up a real estate ad on the sidebar of my computer featuring a 'large, rambling country estate', and my happy day-dreaming seriously encroaches on my output for more than the time of a brief, non-distractable glance.

No, an implied lack of order does not always have to be a negative. Einstein, and some probably trendy young guns (researchers) releasing themselves of the necessity to ever conform to an old work paradigm stood (and stand) by the value of a cluttered work space.

In fact, researching the difference between a climber and a rambling rose, I discovered that a rambler, of the rose variety, has unique qualities; that it is more flexible than a climber (the result of the contortions necessary to support the weight of the determinedly-upward non-rambler?), is more vigorous, has very few thorns and usually only flowers once throughout the year. As a rambler, then, I can and do bloom, I am wise when it comes to the retraction of my barbs, I have stamina and energy...taking the analogy too far?

Reasonably, both order and disorder are necessary for maximum and complementary outputs. However, what if disorder implies creativity, and order, convention? As Head of School in days gone by, I was required to undertake Myers-Briggs personality tests. Supposedly an introspective self-reporting questionnaire, it was never an exercise in discretion. Rather, a point-scoring opportunity to flaunt one's (supposedly better) creative and extrovert leadership qualities.

Ahh - take a look at my desk and tell me who I am.

*If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?

If you would like to see the product of my decidedly (and proudly) orderly book 'But you are in France, Madame', click here.

David Pujadas, I'll miss our daily get-togethers...

Thirteen years ago, we still lived in Melbourne, my children were very young, living in France was just a dream, but David Pujadas was already well-ensconced at the helm of the evening news on France 2. I'd had plenty of flat tyres, flat hair days, flat days tout court, but, for our family, flatscreen viewing was many moons away. Our television of the period had to be backed into a corner, so big was the tube. But, it did the job nicely enough and allowed me to get to know David through the news (or was it the other way around?).

My children, young as they were, became familiar with the French news presenter's name and the time of his appearance on SBS.

"Mummy, David Pujadas is on", called with a beautiful French accent down the corridor and I'd come running.

And, this morning, I shed a few tears. In my sitting room in suburban Sydney, as David said his good-bye on the set, surrounded by his colleagues who have also become household names, my emotions surfaced. It is hard to believe that the end of an era could affect me so much. Granted, the world is all over the place at the moment and, possibly because of this, the loss of a familiar face in my day is as real as any other loss. True, too, that David accompanied our nights when we were living in France. By 8 pm, the children would have finished with their goûter, homework, dinner routine and I would sit with at least one of them, usually my youngest, and take in the news of the day. Maybe, I was crying for that time past, too?

David was professional, analytical, warm, serious, humorous and kept me up-to-date on world events in a manner which I appreciated enormously. I'm sure that we'll meet again on some screen at some point in the future, but in the meantime, "Thanks, David".

A most audible option

Click here to listen

I wanted to have a reading done of 'But you are in France, Madame' as soon as it went into print. Initially, I believed that it couldn't be that hard and that I could just do it myself. Despite being the person most intimately associated with my story, my reading was never convincing.

Recently, Rosemary Puddy (The Book Podcast), contacted me to ask if I would mind if she did a reading of the first few chapters of my book for her podcast, which celebrates Australian women writers. I was delighted!

I received the link to Rosemary's reading last week-end. It was an overcast Sunday and I was not in a hurry to get out and about, so clicked 'play' and sat down to listen. In a scene somewhat reminiscent of the days when a family's evening entertainment was to gather around the radio and listen to the next instalment of a radio series, my family gradually all joined me. Variously, leaning on the kitchen bench, sitting cross-legged on the stool next to my desk, standing no doubt with the intention of listening in for a couple of minutes, we remained for the entire 30 minutes of the reading.

It was good. In fact, it was lovely. Our story, my children's story, read as if it were a proper piece of literature. Regardless of how it is viewed in reality, that is how it felt. Afterwards, came the memories. Thank-you, Rosemary!
If you have a spare 30 minutes to listen, make yourself a cup of tea and then follow this link to episode number 9 (you will need to scroll down the page).