We’re back in Bordeaux after a busy week in Italy — a few days at our daughter’s home in a small town outside Rome, a few days in Florence, a day trip to Naples. I know we’ve been extremely lucky, given that daughter and partner have chosen an ex-pat life so far away, that I’ve had four visits with them this year: January/February in Rome, April on the island, October in Berlin and November in Italy. They’ll be back for a visit in March-April, which is only a few months away, so yes, very fortunate.
But.
Still.
Plus that little girl, in the best tradition of little ones everywhere, had a cold to pass along to Nana and Granddad. He’s recovering faster than I am, so is off at yoga this morning. I’m in bed, box of mouchoirs handy, reading my first Commissaire Maigret novel, en français, a very enjoyable way to work on my French vocabulary. . . Colds have never been quite the same for me since Neo-Citran tinkered with their formula a few years back, but if I have to be sick, this is probably the best possible way to go. By an amusing synchronicity, in the Simenon novel I plucked randomly off the fabulous bookshelves here, Maigret is also blowing regularly into a mouchoir, although that lucky man is also being served rum grog by a loving spouse (hmm, I need to have a chat with Pater).
Unlike poor Maigret, however, who has to keep slogging away in his search for a killer, after lunch I’m hoping to log some healing zzzzz’s (Sleep is Nature’s Nurse, a friend used to say, and of course, The Bard: Sleep Knits Up the Raveled Sleeve of Care) before setting up another post for tomorrow, a Wordless Wednesday focus on Naples, so much colour. . . For Friday’s Five Things, should I manage to write that soon as well, I’m thinking I might tell you Five Things I’m Looking Forward to Getting Back to. . . or perhaps Five Things I’ll Be Sad to Leave. . . perhaps even both. . .
But for now, there’s a mystery to be solved, somewhere in Paris, sometime late-60s, a certain Marchand de Vin has been shot and killed….
I remember reading Commissaire Maigret novels long,long time ago. They have a specific atmosphere,no?
So sorry that you're ill,but in good company,with rum grog,after a nap-your cold should be better
Dottoressa
I'll have to read more of them, but so far, yes, I'd agree that there's a very specific sense of Paris at a certain time, a very particular atmosphere.
I quite like your "doctor's orders" 😉
I have always found rest to be the cure for a cold. Just read, rest and enjoy the European days for a bit longer.
Thank you, I will do just that! 😉
I've always loved that metaphor from Macbeth… especially on those days when we become unravelled. I have a good friend whose grandson Tobias passes along all his colds with such terrible regularity to his grandfather that now when he starts to sneeze quips that he has "Tob-itis." Feel better soon:)
Yes, that's it, "terrible regularity" those grandkid colds, and I like the name for the constant illnesses. . .
Your day, despite the sniffles which I hope pass soon, sounds kind of wonderful. Prolonged time under the covers can be so good for the soul.
Wasn't thrilled to catch a cold, but this is the kind of sick that's not so bad, although I might not go all the way to "kind of wonderful 😉
Oh yes…rest and a good book and lots of chicken soup…they are my cold cures. How wonderful to be able to read a novel in French…well done you!
Take care Mater.
Thank you! Chicken soup is on its way. Yesterday, we made do with spicy dal — I'm convinced the spice is efficacious. . .
Glad you are hunkering down in your second home and looking after that cold. Reading Margret in French sounds like a brilliant way to learn French. In my teens I used to love reading Paris Match. I'm sure that's why my vocabulary is good. Shame about the grammar:(. Bet you will have a very long post with your fives this Friday. How to narrow it down, that's always the problem. Take care. B x
Ha! Vocabulary trumps grammar in my book too. . . I did a a French Lit course decades ago at Uni, but then swerved drastically and it took a while to get back. About 20 years ago, though, I decided to pick it up again and began reading a few French titles a year (I started with Pagnol, delicious intro!). I'm always surprising our French tutors with vocabulary because my command of it (absorbed through reading) far outstrips my confidence in speaking, in grammar (although the latter is not so bad, truly).
Yes, editing our choices is a blogger's big problem, isn't it? So much in this world to write about.
Recover quickly! I envy you Maigret, in French (my abilities would be inadequate, in spite of several years of academic studies). Rum is probably a good idea. Also, although I didn't comment, this entire visit and your trip to Italy has been a genuine vicarious pleasure, for which I extend my gratitude (aptly, since this is our Thanksgiving week . . . ).
I wonder if you'd be surprised by how your French might return, book by book, or word by word.
It's so kind of you to take the time to tell me you've enjoyed this travel-sharing. I do sometimes wonder about its worth and words like yours are a reassurance and a balm. Thank you!