Grandma C's BlogGMAS Blog

Friends—the Best Property of All!

On my eightieth birthday, my son arranged for me to have a video call with several friends whom I’d left behind in the United States when I moved to France. So touched was I by their sorely missed, albeit electronic, presence that I found it difficult to talk. I was embarrassed by my inability to stop crying. One friend is a woman from Ohio whom I met on vacation in Kauai. Over time, she became like a younger sister. I entertained her and her family several times in my former California home. We’ve laughed together, played together, shopped together, and

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The French Paradox Escapes Moi!

When I arrived in France, my son assured me that eating the French way would help me lose weight. Since he had moved to France twenty years earlier and had lost that many pounds and more, he could make the claim with confidence. The loss would happen, he told me, despite the fact that the French diet was high in fat compared to my American diet—hence the paradox. To that end, I religiously adopted the eating habits of my family. I ate what everyone else was eating—wonderful bread, cheeses, salads, vegetables (including some I’d never heard of), fish, meat, poultry,

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Does Sewing Mend the Soul?

Sewing Mends The Soul: Sewing, I’ve read, is not just a craft but therapy. At least, that’s how it functions for some of us. I remember a cathedral quilt I made when Expresso, my son, was in college. At the time, I was very worried about him. Given his lack of interest in academics and marginal grades, I feared he would drop out. I desperately wanted him to succeed. My way of coping was to handsew a cathedral window quilt. With each stitch, I said a prayer that he’d make it to the end. I finished the king-sized quilt just

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A Nourishing, Flourishing French Thanksgiving

French Thanksgiving: Riaz Meghji, the author of Every Conversation Counts, asserts that three conditions are present in the lives of the happiest people: they have something to do, someone to love, and something to look forward to. In my personal experience, he’s right. These three conditions certainly made my French Thanksgiving a happy occasion. I definitely had something to do—fixing a traditional American Thanksgiving meal. Thanksgiving fare The first task was to collect the ingredients. I prevailed upon my daughter-in-law to order a turkey from a butcher (they aren’t sold in supermarkets in France). I also persuaded my son to

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Minding My Manners

Minding Your Manners: “Manners are the basic building blocks of a civil society.” —Alexander McCall Smith Although I think I behave reasonably well in social situations, I’ve never taken particular pride in my manners. My estimation of my manners took a nosedive, however, when I moved to France. The reassessment began with a bus trip downtown with the Wizard. When we entered the bus, he said “Bonjour” to the driver. I gave the same greeting, although my version didn’t sound nearly as authentic. When we got off the bus, the Wizard thanked the driver and said goodbye. I followed suit,

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