Learning New Words

As I am now immersed in the process, language acquisition has become a top interest of mine.  Oh the things they don't teach you in language courses!!!  I have been  fortunate to develop a group of extremely patient French friends, who converse with me in French, correcting my grammar and supplying vocabulary as we go along.  That's one way, and probably the best way to learn.

Another way is to translate--newspaper articles, or as is my case now, a book.  I am a little less than halfway finished with a translation of the History of Carcassonne, as seen from the point of view of the stones of the city.  I have developed some vocabulary that way, and am learning about the people and events that shaped this city as well.  I have picked up archaeological terms, and architectural terms and words pertaining to sieges and warfare tactics.  Interesting, but I wonder how useful those terms will be in my life here. 

Now that I have a stepladder, I can finally see the inside of this and clean it.

But there's a third way, and it's not been altogether wonderful. During the past week,  I have learned the words for leak, and  extractor hood filter and stepladder...and you might wonder just how those came into my vocabulary----it's the necessity method.  We had a series of storms over the past couple of days and I have a leak in the vent over the kitchen stove.  I have had to learn the vocabulary in order to report it and deal with the repair people.  What a journey.

Cleaned and newly filtered extractor hood panel 

Not only have I learned the vocabulary, but I am learning the way some French appliances work, how to take them apart and clean them, and where to buy the necessary supplies.  They sure didn't teach that in my high school French class!  

As I have said before, living the dream!

Brico Marche

I can finally get to the curtain rods

I finally bought a real stepladder.  The ceilings are high and the light fixtures are recessed; it is impossible for me to reach them, and I tried standing on my tallest chair.  (Which is dangerous these days)  Even on of those dainty, cute little kitchen ladders that help short French women reach the top shelves wasn't tall enough to reach the curtain rods.  I checked with my local hardware store, which I like to patronize even though it is expensive, the proprietor takes such delight in teaching this poor old American woman.  And I am committed to supporting local Bastide businesses; I want them to stick around.  But he had only the aforementioned kitchen ladders so I was forced to go to one of the local "box" hardware stores--the French equivalent of Home Depot to get a real stepladder.

Replaced the ratty old paper ball shades with new ones

New bulb looks like an eye

 I went out to Pont Rouge, to Brico Marche, bought the ladder and brought it home, all on the bus.  The driver remarked that it looked like a "work project" was in my future!  Funny thing about living here, and maybe it's true of all cities, but it's not out of the ordinary to see people bringing things like stepladders, and clothes racks, long wooden dowling, on the bus and carrying it through the streets.  It's all rather commonplace and I didn't feel in the least bit self-conscious doing it, whereas in the States, I would have received a number of quizzical looks.  The sound of luggage being wheeled up and down to and from the train station is an every day, nearly constant song of the streets here.  Back in Brookings, only homeless people wheeled their belongings down the street.  Such is a car-dependent society.

This gets replaced next--in the closet

Brought it home on the bus

I have overcome my fear of phone conversations (well, almost) but buying light bulbs still strikes terror in my heart.  Once I got the ladder home, and opened and removed the offending burned out bulbs, I had to make another trip to the Brico Marche for replacements.  Light bulbs in France are not standardized.  There are fat screw ends, skinny screw ends, and there bulbs with no threads at all, but rather they just push in.  I still do not understand wattage numbers, voltage, and what bulbs will cause fixtures or lamps to blow up.  I would rather clean toilets for days than shop for light bulbs.

Toilet room fixture--bought a new and safer one

But the fine young man at Brico Marche took me under his wing and fixed me right up.  He even took my old bulbs for recycling.  He was so pleased with himself that he could help this poor old lady who obviously had NO clue as to what she needed.  And I have been able to put aside my prideful "I can do it myself" attitude and ask for help here.  I don't care if they think I am stupid.  

You never know which one to buy

It took two trips to Brico Marche, but I have managed to illuminate me home, and hang a set of curtains at one window.  Next on the agenda is to complete window washing, now that I can reach the top panes.  I will wait for a little cooler weather for that task.  Living the dream!

Translation ADD??

I  have been sporadically working on an English translation of a French language history of Carcassonne.  I have joked that it will be required in lieu of payment from any future guests who stay with me.  And there will be a quiz!!  

The book is not long--only 198 pages, but it is slow, slow going.  So what's taking me so long?  I have used guests as an excuse, but the truth is that I am my own obstacle.  One of the benefits of age??? retirement?? is observing myself and wondering why I do what I do.  In the matter of this translation, it's really not my guests who have stopped my forward progress....it's something akin to ADD.  I am constantly wandering off on some tangent.  (Funny, I seem to have the same issue with housekeeping!)

I can't seem to keep my eye on the goal of finishing the project.  I get sidetracked by curiosity about things I do not know....you might recall Tectosages.  Since then, there's been a side trip into the Visigoths, and then into Roman engineering.  I have also made several forays into the life and times of Charlemagne, and oh my, I had to stop and read some about El Cid, who I thought was a much later historical figure.  He actually played a tangential role in getting Barcelona to release its grip on Carcassonne.  Wait??!!! Carcassonne was tied to Barcelona???  Oh yeah. 

The there was Roland--the one in The Chanson de Roland--Charlemagne's nephew, and his battle against the giant.  I seem to remember reading this in my freshman French literature class at Duke, but oh my, that was several lifetimes ago. I had to look that up and learn, or maybe re-learn about him.

Now I have discovered a work called the Liber Feodorum Major--and I can't seem to proceed with the translation until I find out more about this--this library of illustrated documents detailing the development of Aragon.  I need to see this work with my own eyes.  And it preserved in, of all places, Barcelona.  I don't know if its keepers allow the unwashed public to see it, but I am going to find out. 

The above illustration is from Wikipedia and is also in the book I am translating.  It shows the exchange of money for control over Carcassonne; that was some big deal back in the 11th centure!!!

So, the problem is not really the frequent consultations of the dictionary, because I can translate entire paragraphs now without having to look up a single word.  That's encouraging.  The problem is not the complex sentence structure and advanced vocabulary of French historians; I can cope with that.  (Although I will say it took some getting used to once again.  Back in the Duke days, I could read and write those kind of complex sentences with advanced vocabulary myself, but had fallen out of practice)  

The problem annd the joy is that I am more focused on learning, filling in the considerable gaps in my education, and satisfying my curiosity than I am on just getting the book translated.  And that makes me so very, very happy.  I still love learning for its own sake and find it one of the best ways ever to pass the days  in retirement, here in Carcassonne.

And prospective house guests can rest easy--it looks like a quiz will be a long time materializing.

Struggle

Herr Bach and I are struggling today....I remember a line from the movie Amadeus that struck a chord with me all those years ago and still resonates today......Salieri laments, "Why would God give me the desire and not give me the talent?"  Trust me, I don't aspire to greatness, but I would like to rise above awful.  There are few things in life that soothe my soul like playing Bach, even at a glacial pace.  Today, however, not even nearly the slowest setting of the metronome is a slow enough pace to play without errors.  After 45 minutes of constant struggle to get through 16 bars without mistakes---I gave up.  Tomorrow is another day. 

Practicing scales on a day like today is darned hard.

My workspace is tidy, finally

And today--is simply gorgeous: warm, but not hot; no humidity, a breeze that has settled down somewhat from the heavy winds earlier in the week.  The sky is a perfect blue, my flowers are gorgeous, and every sense I have is telling me to go outside and play.  I have managed a fair number of chores on the to-do list this week and think that an afternoon spent flaneur-ing about (it's a French word for walking about with no particular destination in mind--I highly recommend it) is well deserved.  

My geraniums give a spot of color to my street

Everyone is outside playing

Yes, there are always things to do, like re-organize the closet shelves and re-arrange the kitchen shelves and drawers, but that can wait for a less perfect day.  The bedroom floor could stand a wash, but it's not critical, not yet.  The Aude or the Canal?  To the west or to the east?   Let's just see which way the wind blows. 

Admittedly the view isn't much, but oh the sky!!!!

To follow up, I got a phone call from my friend Shelley, who lives just up the street, to come by and help her choose a paint color for her bathroom.....the Universe saved me from myself.  When I got home, my friend Martin came over with his guitar and we did a tiny little bit of singing, a fair amount of listening and a whole lot of talking.  So the Universe really did send me just what I needed.  It always does.