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February 7, 2011

Beautiful day in the Diggy-hood... almost

 Today was one of those days where I was all, "La la la I love France." I had the day off from my arduous 12-hour-per-week-job-that-sometimes-is-only-nine-or-10-hours, and by mid-morning it was gloriously sunny and warm.

The morning frost was drip-drip-dripping off this tree by the canal as Mr. Sun reached out to give it a hug. Bonjour, Monsieur Soleil! Ça fait longtemps depuis je t'ai vu!

The weird knobbly branches on this ubiquitous species of tree looked so much less creepy against the blue, blue sky than they do when they're ensconced in fog. Bonjour les branches! Je vous préfère comme ça!

How sunny and warm was it? It was so sunny and warm, mes amies, that someone left their shutters partially open! Bonjour les volets ouverts! Maintenant je connais tous vos secrets!

After lunch I decided to read Tartuffe by the Loire, because the act itself struck me as extremely French and, as previously noted, I was in a "La la la I love France" kind of mood. The sun on my face was just the best, and I was feeling so warm and comfortable and happy and French that I even dozed off a little bit.

Not too long after I had awoken,  a small green truck drove by and its driver tooted his horn in greeting. In my post-doze haze I reasoned that only someone I knew would have done that, so I waved. I heard the truck turn around, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a rotund, middle-aged man get out and approach me.

He asked me if I was studying. I tried my age-old trick of being like, "Um... quoi? Je no speaka the Frenchy!" but he wasn't buying it. After asking me a few more questions about how I ended up in Digoin, he asked if I was married. I said yes, hoping that perhaps M. Soleil would help me blind this jerk with my bling. "Dommage," he said. "Mais on peut avoir une affaire en secret tout le même." I politely declined his offer of having a secret affair with a "non merci" (damn you, Minnesota nice!) and got up and left.

Au revoir Monsieur le Draguer! Mangez un sac de l'enfer!

1 comment:

  1. Ha! I have learned to reign in my Minnesota Nice a bit. It's not taken exactly the same way here. Early on in my new country, I was walking down the street and the garbage truck went by.I probably smiled at it, I don't know. It backed up right next to me and I went to the window to see if I could help. The driver planted a big kiss on my lips and took off down the narrow street. Being from Minnesota, I thought that was very nice of him.