
Sara is still in North Carolina. Rather than postcards, she's been sending me text messages:
Sara: Going to a restaurant that serves goat cheese pizza. Wish I could bring some back to you.
Me: She out there eating my goat cheese and having a fine time and I'm stuck here with these lousy music lessons and I hate them! (A parody of "The Parent Trap.")
Me: I can't eat, sleep, or think properly without you anymore! My mind and my spirit are going north and south! (A parody of "Big Trouble in Little China.")
Sara: Do you want some candy or a Christmas ornament? Do not say both! Or a bell for your bike?
Me: Surprise me.I had another French encounter at work yesterday. A mom and her son were shopping for school supplies, and while they spoke to me in English, they could tell it wasn't their first language. The problem was, I wasn't sure if the language they were speaking to each other was French or not. I thought, Shit, my French must be deteriorating like crazy I can't even recognize the language when I hear it! But finally I just came out and asked them. The below conversation (a rough transcript) was all in French.
Me: Is that French you're speaking?
The mom: [surprised] Yes.
Me: Are you from France?
The mom: No, we're from Quebec.
Me: Oh. [pause, fumbling] I wasn't sure if you were speaking French or not. I studied Parisian French, and I never heard a Quebec accent before.
The mom: Yes, it's a little different from Parisian French, the accent and things are different. It's like with Cajun French, how that has its own accent and everything.
Me: Yes, my grandmother's first language is Cajun French, but I can speak to her in Parisian French, and she understands most of it. [fumbling more, and using tu instead of vous!] But as you see, I've forgotten a lot of my French.
It was pretty cool.
One of my aunts gave me a vacuum cleaner, but Grandma said it was too big for our little apartment, so she kept it and gave me hers. I don't think she really wanted it anymore because I had borrowed it once before, and apparently ever since then, it makes her carpet smell like Sable. Wtf? But I'm happy, because it's a really powerful little vacuum cleaner. I just gone done vacuuming this room, and it feels so good to have a spotlessly clean carpet again! I hope I can get into the habit of vacuuming once a week. Haha, look at me, getting excited over a vacuum cleaner. When did I get so lame?
But I do have a good reason to be excited: tomorrow Adam and I are making a day trip to Houston to visit the cemetery, find Roger's grave, visit Mark & Vickie, and eat out somewhere nice. I hope it'll be Star Pizza, so I can get some goat cheese. The only down side is that I feel bad about leaving Sable all day.
I fixed myself a can of green beans, following Grandma's recipe, but as always, mine are nowhere near as good as hers. Maybe there's some secret trick to it. Like, you have to be Grandma to do it.