Why Does Everything Sound Better in French? 

Even having a migraine, with all of its painful and ugly connotations, sounds romantic in French. According to one of my favorite books, Words in a French Life: Lessons in Love and Language From the South of France, by Kristin Espinasse (an American married to a Frenchman and living in Provence), to have a migraine in French is avoir la tête comme une citrouille. Literally translated into English, this means “to have a pumpkin head,” which is amusingly descriptive of a migraine. If, that is, someone is pounding violently upon the pumpkin that is one’s head.

However, I did discover another tip in the same chapter. The chapter is called is Citrouille and is about Espinasse’s rather hilarious attempt to celebrate Halloween American-style with her bewildered French neighbors. Next time vous avez la tête comme une citrouille, simply scream at your pumpkin head “Allez-vous-en!” (get out of here!) Scream as loud as you can with someone whacking at your pumpkin head with a hammer, anyway.

I apologize for my lousy French grammar, by the way. Should mon la tête comme une citrouille ever va-t-en laisse-moi tranquille (go away and leave me alone), I hope to brush up on my college French.

N.B. As always, I use textures from 2 Lil’Owls on my photos, this one included. I highly recommend their entire line of presets, textures, digital papers, and workshops. If interested in purchasing, my affiliate link is https://2lilowls.com/ref/9

Oops

Obviously, my attempt at the A to Z Blogging Challenge was a complete failure. I solemnly promise to do better next year! I’m afraid my depression, fibromyalgia, and migraines (I’m in perimenopause–yay) got the better of me–that, and trying to keep up with my last required class for my master’s degree. As you can see, I like taking pictures of the books I am reading; it makes me feel brilliant and learned, somehow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me and my bifocals

 

 

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20140325-225844.jpgMe sporting my new bifocals last night. I mean Progressives.

So as it turns out, I did need new glasses–not just new glasses, but bifocals. Ugh. Old lady glasses. But of course most of my friends have them, and they are most definitely not old ladies. George has them too, and he isn’t old either. So maybe it won’t be so horrid to wear them…except that now that I have them, I can’t see, everything is all wiggly wobbly (to quote my friend Vanessa, who got her Progressives last week). However, it was a perfect conversation topic today as I chatted with my elderly aunt; we really went to town on the topic of eye drops. Well, technically, at 83, I suppose she qualifies as elderly, but she does not exactly seem old to me, or anyone else. I save my best dirty jokes to share with her, and loves them.

So maybe age really is a state of mind, as the saying goes. In which case I can stay a red haired hellion for years into the future? And my new glasses do seem (fingers crossed) to be keeping the migraines at bay, for which I would practically trade my soul. Or my old glasses anyway.

Even with bifocals. Progressives, to be exact. And soon my bifocal contact lenses will arrive! I’ll probably start getting carded again once I have those in…

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