French Friday #41: Show me the way to go home

(All photos are mine. Map is from www.mappy.fr)

Growing up, my dad used to tell people that Hansel and Gretel had a better sense of direction than I did. I couldn’t get offended or argue because it really was  true. During driver’s ed, the instructor once told me to drive to my bank. I had to admit that I had no idea how to get to the bank or even where we currently were; if I were lucky, I might be able to get myself back home, but it wouldn’t be pretty. And, despite an extensive unit in second grade on how to read maps, I have a hard time translating a map into real life. Part of the problem is that I navigate by landmark and not by street names. That’s fine until somebody builds a new building or chops down a tree or moves that rusty car. Then I’m screwed. Knowing this about me, I’m sure my parents were a little concerned when they shipped me off to do a semester-long study abroad in Grenoble. As well they should have been.

Fortunately for me, the two places I really needed to know in Grenoble (home and school) were connected by a tram line that had a stop right outside my apartment door. Couldn’t ask for more for a directionally-challenged person. There were a couple of times, though, when even this fool-proof method threw me for a loop, either because of strikes or mechanical failures and I would have to walk home. It was an hour-long walk (versus a 15 minute tram ride) through winding streets with plenty of opportunity to get lost. But I always told myself, “If I can find the river, I can get home.” It wasn’t the most direct route, but it was safe.

It’s a lot bigger than it looks on a map

The river in question was the Isère which snaked its way across the north end of the city, running close to the university and, eventually, close to the neighborhood where I lived. Knowing that the river flowed West, I’d follow its course until I got near centre ville where I could turn south and find my way to my apartment, a few streets in. Signs might change, trees might get chopped down, but I could count on the river.

A view of Centre Ville from the Bastille with the Isère just visible through the trees.

Until one day when I decided to take a walk and explore. My host mother, Hélène, was gone for the weekend and I was bored sitting at home by myself. It was a nice day out, so I set out with no particular destination in mind. I just wanted to see a little bit of the city. And it was fun. I saw new shops, interesting architecture, fountains, statues, all kinds of things. I was beginning to feel hungry and decided I should head home for lunch. But I had absolutely no idea where I was. I had wandered down so many side streets that I couldn’t even retrace my steps. I guess I should have been crumbling a baguette behind me, although the pigeons probably would have eaten it all up. So I fell back on my reliable old plan: Find the river. Feeling more primitive than ever, I checked the sun to try and determine which direction I should go to get to the river. But… it was noon, so that didn’t turn out to be so helpful. I made my best guess and started walking.

Roll on, Isère

And then the rain started falling. Besides making me wet, the rain also had the added bonus of clearing the streets of anyone I could have asked for directions. Finally, I saw the river! I knew that this time, I needed to follow it against the flow, so off I headed. But nothing was looking familiar. I had walked the river before, surely I would begin to recognize something. Oh no, this can’t be right. Maybe I do need to go downstream? With wet hair sticking to my face and wet socks squishing in wet shoes, I turned around and went back the way I had come. Trudge, trudge, trudge, until…

Is that… the train station? The train station?! With a river running behind it. There’s only one train station in Grenoble and it’s on the Isère. I turned around and looked at the river I had been following. Not the Isère. That was certain now that I could see it beyond the train station. No, the river I had followed was the Drac which runs north along the western side of the city and joins up with the Isère a bit northwest of the train station. No wonder I hadn’t seen anything familiar! I never came to this side of the city at all. And it had never occurred to me that I had walked so far as to end up at the Drac. With a sigh, I bid the Drac farewell and moved closer to the comforting flow of the Isère, following it upstream as I had intuitively known I should. And, four hours after I had set out on my walk, I gratefully returned to the empty apartment. Dry clothes, a warm blanket and a little music on the stereo never felt so good.

A wrestling match between the Drac (lion) and Isère (serpent).

I am glad to say that my navigational skills have improved some since that time. (Some, I said. I’m still plenty adept at getting lost). I still navigate by landmarks. But I know better now than to assume that all rivers lead the way home.

Open letter to residents of the Pacific Northwest

Dear PNWers,

I apologize for making lightweight, summery blouses this week. See, I got all excited with the recent sunshine and light breezes and remembered the springtimes of my youth in Colorado. It’s a fascinating place. It has what we call “seasons.” I know, right? It’s not just a myth! There really are places out there that experience different kinds of weather at more or less predictable times of year.

Well, you’re right, we have predictable weather, too, and I suppose it could be argued that we have something resembling seasons. Y’know, Rain and Not Rain. And when the sun came out last week, I suppose it goaded me into thinking that perhaps we were on the verge of Not Rain (even though I know intellectually that Not Rain doesn’t begin until July). I got out the floaty, flimsy fabrics and scared the sunshine right off.

The appearance of flowers is the only way we can tell the difference between Rain in October and Rain in April.

So now I know what I need to do. I need to go back to making sweaters. I know that will mean that my wardrobe will be off-balance, but for all the rest of you pasty (and sparkly?) PNWers, I’ll do it. I’m just that kind of person. Besides, I’m cold most of the time, so I can handle wearing a sweater in 70 degree weather.

So, when the sun comes out, enjoy (don’t get burnt), and think of me. Knitting sweaters.

Yours truly,

JenGren

No peasants were burninated in the sewing of this blouse

I made a shirt. It was boring. I put stuff on it. Now I like it. Suffering from writer’s block a bit.

As excited as I was to sew it, it’s not that exciting a story to tell. It’s kind of plain, like the shirt. So I’ll spruce it up, too.

Last week after my pattern binge, I could barely sleep from excitement. So the next morning I set right to work making a peasant blouse out of navy broadcloth from my stash. It was plain, so I crocheted some lace trim for the hem and sleeves.

But even that isn’t all that riveting to read. How about this.

Lo, this past seven-night in the wake of the procurement of multitudinous patterns, repose eluded me. The new day dawned and I commenced fabrication posthaste on an esne’s tunic, availing myself of indigo stuffs. Being too ordinary, I further adorned the frock with hand-worked ornamentation.

But why should I have all the fun? Sewing MadLibs!

Once upon a _______ (noun), JenGren ________ (verb) _________ (quantity) new sewing patterns. She was so ________ (adj) that she could not ________ (verb). The next day, she ________ (verb) a new _________ (clothing) from _________ (color) fabric. But, it was ___________ (adj), so she ________ (verb) _________ (noun) to it. Now it is _________ (adj).

Have at it! Make my story amusing, entertaining, thrilling, exhilarating! You can write your version in the comments (just keep it clean!). And hopefully the oatmeal mush in my head will be a little more witty on Wednesday.

And for anyone curious about the burnination of peasants: Trogdor the Burninator

We be jammin’

Pa-jammin’, that is. I don’t have a reggae bone in my body and don’t pretend to (unlike Sting, who apparently thinks he’s a Jamaican reincarnated. Never understood him).

Earlier this month, Karen at Did You Make That? proposed to host a pyjama party sew-along and I thought, “Hey! I can do that!” Not taxing at all and was actually something I needed to do. Why not make it fun in the process? Karen broke everything down one step at a time, which was a good reminder to me that I don’t necessarily need to finish all my sewing projects in one fell swoop.

French seams and a ribbon tag for the back

I chose a lightweight aqua cotton because it seemed like it would be nice for the spring/summer. I did have a passing horror of looking like I was wearing scrubs (which I understand to be quite comfortable, so I have nothing against you if you do wear scrubs to bed). I was hoping for a look a little less… utilitarian. I did a couple of things to counteract that. After much debate, I decided to gather the ankles with elastic rather than just a plain hem. One thing I’ve found with my current pajama pants is that they have a tendency to ride up and twist around my knees while I’m sleeping. I’m hoping that the gathered hem on this new pair will keep everything where it’s supposed to be!

Staying power

The other thing I did was to embroider cherry blossoms on one leg. When I first had the idea to embroider a design, I thought I’d flip through one of my two iron-on transfer books. That would have been great except… apparently they are in a box that I did not bring to the cabin. {sigh} Plan B. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I recalled seeing something about using tissue paper to transfer a design onto fabric. A little searching on the ol’ Internet and I found a nice tutorial on thread tracing . It’s definitely not a quick process, but it does the trick. First I had to print a line drawing (from free clip-art. No royalties theft here) and then trace it onto tissue paper. After that, I pinned the tissue paper to the fabric and took long stitches with sewing thread directly over the lines of the picture into the fabric.

Probably most people would have done this before sewing the pants together.

I took a tip from one of the commenters on the original tutorial to dampen the tissue paper before removing it. Let me just clarify that dampen is all you need to do. I inadvertently soaked my tissue paper, which made it disintegrate all over the place and curiously, dyed the tracing thread with the ink I used on the paper. So much for blending in.

Thread traced and remaining tissue paper particles

Then, using my rudimentary embroidering skills, I floundered through stem stitches, backstitches, chain stitches and fly stitches. I’m not sure they really evoke cherry blossoms, but at least it did turn out to be recognizably floral. Once the embroidery was done, I ironed a bit of fusible interfacing on the back to keep all the little bumps from scratching my leg while I sleep. I finished that up Friday (whew! Just in time!) and then commissioned Mr. Gren to take photos of me modeling my new pajamas.

Sakura! Maybe?

As part of the Pyjama Party, Karen requested that we all share a bit about the book currently on our nightstand (or, on the floor next to my nightstand, in my case, because my nightstand is otherwise occupied). First, my very best Vanna White to show you the new book I picked up at the dollar store the other day, Saving Fish From Drowning by Amy Tan.

Would you like to buy a vowel?

I’m always a little suspicious of the books at the dollar store (Why are they here? How come they didn’t sell at their original location? Is the writer a hack?). I’ve been burned a couple of times (so I guess that puts me $2 out), but I thought I’d go ahead and take a chance again. For one thing, even though I’ve never read any of Amy Tan’s work, I at least know a bit about her. Secondly, a hardcover book for a buck? Even if it does turn out to be crap, I could probably use it for something crafty.

Why yes, I do sleep mere inches from death. Or at least broken bones.

I haven’t been able to do much bedtime reading this week since Mr. Gren has been working a goofy schedule and has had to go to bed earlier than I like. I did manage to read the introduction the other morning before the kids started fighting and continued on into the first chapter while Mr. Gren played photographer. So far it seems to be an intriguing book. It’s told from a dead woman’s perspective and memory of mysterious events; right now we’re attending her funeral. A little morose for bedtime reading and I have to admit this is a departure from my usual historical novels. But hey, it’s good to branch out, at the very least to confirm what you do like. I haven’t written off Ms. Tan yet, though! Has anyone else read this book? Looks like it was published in 2005.

A maman is never alone.

So there you have it! The results of my first sew-along! Thanks, Karen, for the fun idea! I’m looking forward to seeing all the other swanky new jammies out there today.

French Friday #40: Zut alors!

Hey, look at that! Forty French Fridays! How about we learn a little French.

This is a handy little phrase. If you listened closely to Disney’s “Beauty & the Beast” or “The Little Mermaid,” you’ve probably heard one of the characters utter an exasperated, “Zut alors!” The nice thing about this expression is that it won’t get you in trouble in polite society… unlike other words I could teach you. “Zut” is approximately equivalent in meaning and force to “darn it.” Not too salty. “Alors” on its own means “so,” “then,” or “well” (as a filler word, not a state of being). Put the two together and you get something more like “gosh darn it!” Still pretty safe.

When can you use it?

• After stubbing a toe
• When the kids knock over their cup at the table
• When you drop your change all over the bakery floor with a line of people behind you
• When you get in the car and realize that you left your sunglasses in the house
• When you find out the neighbor’s dog has knocked over your trash can. Again

Go ahead and fill in your own situations as needed.

So now, how do you pronounce it? Correct pronunciation is dear to my heart as you may remember from the Ratatouille post (you all have been saying it right since then, haven’t you?). I had a high school French teacher who spent a lot of time with us on pronunciation and I even took an entire class in college called Phonetics and Diction. And now you get to reap the benefit of all that study, without the homework or the tuition! What a deal!

First thing to know: Zut does not equal “zoot.” Although some of you may want to invoke the name of eccentric fashions past (“Ah, codpiece! My library books are overdue!”), that’s not what we’re doing here. The French U does not make a simple oo sound and is, in fact, one of the trickiest sounds for English speakers to master. But it can be done! First, say eeee, like this.

Granota and Konik demonstrate the "eeee" sound.

While still holding that ee sound, move your lips into a tight little O, like this.

And now for the oooo

The ee sound forced through O-shaped lips produces a French U. So now say zut. Bravo!

The next word, “alors” is not as hard. The A will be a gentle ah followed by a syllable that sounds like “lore,” with just a bit of tweaking. Instead of a hard English R in the front of the mouth (yes, you’re going to have to pay attention to what your tongue is doing), the French R is softer, almost in the throat. I said almost. Don’t get all German on me, here. How do you know if you’re doing it right? When you say “lore,” notice where your tongue is at the very beginning of the R sound — it’s down and back — and that’s where it needs to stay for the French R, instead of coming back up. All together now, alors (silent S, bien sûr). Got it?

Ok, let’s put it together! Zut alors!

Awesome! Now you’ve just added a little panache to your aggravation and no one can deny that life in general needs more panache.

***********************************

Be sure to check back tomorrow (Saturday) for my contribution to the Pyjama Party Sew-Along! My jammies are looking pretty good, if I do say so myself!

Eet’s a sweater!

Do any of you quote movie lines with your significant others? For me, I think I can trace it back to my college roommates and “What About Bob?” (still my favorite movie). Then I married a man who loves movies. I had to start watching all his old ’80s comedies just to know what the heck he was talking about. We’ve got our go-to favorites and have discovered that, between “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” and “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” we could probably never have an original conversation again; they’ve got quotes for everything! Another one we like is “Three Amigos” which provided the title of today’s post. It’s great for any gift-giving situation.

Today is not a gift-giving situation, but it does involve an actual sweater! Just in time for the warmest day of the year so far. Woo hoo, timing! To my credit, it was cold three weeks ago when I started this. The pattern was (mostly) the “flirty ruffles top” from the January 2009 issue of Crochet! Magazine. I used Caron Simply Soft in Pagoda. I like the sheen, but it does look like it might have a tendency to pill, so I’m going to have to be careful with the sweater.

Now, you may notice that there aren’t any ruffles on this so-called ruffles top. On the original pattern, the front hemline came up to a point just below the bust and it was this edge that was lined with ruffles. I didn’t like the way it came up like that because that would force me to have to wear something underneath to cover up all that midriff. Truth be told, I’ll probably end up wearing a camisole under it anyways because there’s nothing worse in life (to me) than being cold. But I’d like to at least maintain the option of having just a sweater on its own. Besides that, I thought that cut-out part looked stupid.

I have a waist!

In order to keep it from being just a big crocheted rectangle, I did a little bit of shaping through the waist by changing hook size. The majority of the sweater is worked with an I hook. I worked a panel through the middle on both the front and the back where I went down to H for about 5 rows and then to G, back up to H and then back to I. I can definitely feel a difference in wearing it. Along the bottom hem, I just made a simple 5 dc fan around.

I’ll be the first to admit that, without the ruffly inverted V, this is a pretty basic sweater. And you know what? I’m ok with that. Until now, all I had was one extremely basic gray J. Crew sweater that I bought at the thrift store with the intention of felting down to make something else (can’t even remember what that was). Eventually I got cold and just started wearing it. Another warm addition to my wardrobe was a must, hence this basic teal sweater. Teal is prettier than gray, anyways. Obviously this make isn’t going to see a lot of wear until the fall, but at least I’ll be ready.

With that done, it’s time to start busting my fabric stash for more season-appropriate garments. Should be some good stuff coming up soon in that department! Not to mention my new pajamas for the sew-along are due on Saturday. “Sew, (not so) very old one! Sew like the wind!” (How’s that for a great quote! Anybody else got some good ones? Bonus points if they’re craft-related).

 

 

 

French Friday #39: Walk this way

How many of you have been to France? How many of you wish you could? How many of you don’t care where you go just so long as it’s far away? Then come with me, let me take you on a little tour of my town.

Last week, I read a book called The Secret Life of Josephine, by Carrolly Erickson.

Now, this is a novel, so the author took some fantastical artistic liberties with the story, but I can forgive her because 1) She acknowledges in her own words that it is “frothy historical entertainment,” and 2) she wrote an actual biography on Josephine, so it’s evident that she can separate fact from fiction. At any rate, any book about Josephine has to at least make a nod to the Château de Malmaison, her beloved personal  residence. At the time, it was just outside the town of Rueil. It has been nearly 200 years since she died, so, as you can imagine, the growing town has crept up around the château grounds (largely expedited by the fact that much of the land had to be sold off in parcels after her son’s death). Officially, the town is called Rueil-Malmaison; they really are inseparable in spirit.

Reading about a location that is so familiar to me naturally made me homesick for France and specifically for Rueil. My heart ached to be there, to just take a walk, to enjoy the scenery. Then I had a great idea! Even though I can’t be there physically right now, I can visit with my eyes and a few mouse clicks thanks to Google Earth. If you have never tried this before, it just takes a quick (free) download to be able to use it. Once there, type in the name of a town you want to visit and, through the magic of satellite imagery, it will fly you there. Then, it gets better! If you click and drag the little yellow man down to the satellite (or map) image, it will take you to street view that you can just keep clicking along, “walking” down a street. It is admittedly creepy that Google has taken pictures of, well, just about everywhere, but I decided this time to suppress that shuddersome feeling and use Google to my advantage. Free trip to France!

Let’s start close to Malmaison, admiring the narrow walled streets along the way. Don’t forget to look side-to-side, peek over walls, and even look up occasionally. There are all kinds of things to see!

Click the screencap photos! (You’ll probably want to right-click and choose to open in a new tab, otherwise it will open right here).

Avenue Tuck-Stell, named for an American philanthropist and his wife. Be sure to check out the turret on the other end of the high wall!

If you keep heading this direction, you will come to a place where it shows Avenue du Château de Malmaison to the left. Turn there and you can walk up almost to the front gate, with a glimpse of the château at the end of the drive (If you want a small tour of the château itself with better photos, you can see my post about it here).

We’ll skip ahead a little ways to one of my favorite streets, the Avenue de l’Impératrice Joséphine.

Position yourself in front of gates to see some of the beautiful old houses built along this road.

I always loved how the street lights were hung so elegantly across the road. In December, they added Christmas lights across. So pretty! Keep walking on down this street and soon, you’ll get to see Josephine herself, welcoming you to the Parc de Bois Préau. You’ll know you’ve arrived when you see blue gates on your right. Turn and take a peek into the beautiful park.

Last, I’ll take you to where I lived, in centre ville.

There's my building

If you go towards Boulevard du Maréchal Joffre and then keep following it, you will end up right in the heart of Rueil where you can see the old Mairie (town hall). I hope you enjoyed our little tour!

Now, whenever I feel that tug at my heart, I can go visit some familiar places and ease the ache a little bit. Several of the businesses have changed since we were there, but the buildings remain largely the same, and there’s some comfort in that. Not bad for free, right?