Happy Halloween

Last night my family carved pumpkins to make ‘jack-o-lanterns.’ We make them every year and put candles inside to greet the children who come ‘trick or treating’ on Halloween.

Carving a pumpkin isn’t hard. First you need to sketch a face on the outside. Triangles for eyes and nose are the easiest. A jagged mouth is also easy for the beginner. Next you need to take a knife and cut off the top of the pumpkin. Then reach your hand inside and pull out the ‘pumpkin guts.’ This is slimy work! The seeds and pulp are moist and sticky. But don’t throw them away! Keep them in a bowl so you can roast the seeds later for a special treat! I’ll explain later.

Once you’ve removed the seeds, take a spoon and scrape the flesh inside so it’s clean and smooth. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but remember the candle will burn dangling bits of pumpkin guts and smell really awful! So get it clean and smooth! Now you are ready to carefully cut out your sketched eyes, nose and mouth. Use caution when using a knife so you don’t have to make a trip to the emergency room for stitches in your hand! This isn’t a job for little children!

Remove the cut out pieces of the face. Now you are ready to try out your newly carved Jack-O-Lantern. Place a candle inside and light it with a match. Turn out the lights and watch the face glow.

Now place it outside your door in the cool fall air. It will last for about two weeks before it starts to cave in and rot.

Now go back to the seeds. Separate them from the pulp and wash them in water. Pat them dry with paper towels. Spread them on a cookie sheet. I like to sprinkle the seeds with Worcestershire Sauce and salt. Now bake them at 325 degrees F for about 25 minutes or until toasted. Be sure to stir them every 5-10 minutes to prevent burning. After they’ve cooled, store them in an air tight container. I use my teeth to crack open the hull (remove the seeds covering) and pull out the tasty, crunchy centers. But my husband likes to just eat the whole seed, outside and all!

Happy Halloween everyone!

My Friend Muncie

This is Serge's response to my post about him.

I would like to tell you about Muncie, my first conversation partner. She is an American woman that I met on a website that helps people find partners online in order to practice a foreign language.

It has been two years since we began talking together. We are used to talking at least twice a week. To say the least, she is particularly talkative or if you prefer, she chats like a magpie!! Of course I am kidding! I do appreciate our conversations. Muncie is such a nice person who is always in a good mood. We are used to teasing each other but we never argue, whatever the issues are.

I still remember our first chat. In turn, we introduced ourselves and described our families, our houses, the cities we live in and so on. Thanks to her, I have learned a lot about American society and American culture.

Her husband Jon works in a company that builds planes, the kind of planes that rich American businessmen use to travel across the United States to sign contracts with other rich American businessmen in order to make a lot of money. American people like making money. American people also are extreme workaholics. In France, we are the best in the world for working less than thirty-five hours per week, being on vacation for two weeks every two months and for going on strike all the other days!

Muncie has got one son and three daughters. Her son married three months ago. I bet Muncie she will become a grandmother before I will. Of course she laughed, but she obviously knows I will win.

Muncie doesn’t like her name. She told me that it is a very weird and uncommon name for an American girl. To me it is a beautiful name. It is no stranger than Bob, Priscilla, John, Mary or George W… No… no… no! In fact, George W. is not a good example. Let’s forget it!

In Muncie’s personal website, you can read a lot of excellent essays about her city Albuquerque, her family and her daily life. She also wrote something that arguably could be the best article she has ever written! On one hand, it is because she wrote it in French and on the other, because she talked about an exceptional figure, a French man called Serge. Take what I say with a grain of salt, but I think he is her best friend.

Muncie’s writing style is quite unique! Her youngest daughter Holly probably got her talent from her mother. I recently read a story she wrote while she was on summer vacation. Her novel is as fascinating as Harry Potter’s adventures! Rebecca, who is nineteen years old, must be a very studious. Sometimes, when I ask Muncie about grammar rules, she requires help from Rebecca, who always knows the answer. Muncie’s elder daughter studies at a university in order to become a pharmacist. Once, Muncie sent me a photo of Maureen and her boyfriend. I didn’t dare tell Muncie that I found they did not match very well. In my opinion, Maureen looks very attractive, whereas her boyfriend looks a little bit overweight. I think they since have broken up, but after all, it is not my business.

Now, let’s talk about her son Tyler. Tyler is a courageous man. He spent two years in the Philippine Islands as a missionary for his church. He learned the native language there, and I understand he now speaks Tagalog fluently. During his stay, he could only talk by phone to his mother twice a year. I think it was at Christmas and on his mother’s birthday!

This family doesn’t look like the stereotype of the American family. Everybody knows that the stereotype of the American family resembles the Simpson family that lives in Springfield (I have absolutely no idea which state this town is in because there are forty cities in the United States called Springfield!)
Obviously Muncie’s family has nothing to do with the Simpsons. Although, Muncie reminds me a little bit of Marge Simpson, no once again I am kidding Muncie, but I know she will forgive me. We are such good friends that nothing could make us get angry!

Eventually, I hope that someday I will have the good fortune to see Muncie in person. I would be very disappointed if my dream never came true.

Serge

Ce mois-ci, j'ai un anniversaire. Il y a deux ans, j’ai rencontré mon deuxième partenaire de conversation, Serge. J’ai oublié qui a trouvé qui, mais nous nous sommes rencontrés l’un et l’autre sur le site web, « mylanguageexchange.com. »

A mon avis, Serge est un excellent partenaire de conversation. D’abord, il a beaucoup de patience avec moi et mon français rudimentaire. Sa voix est calme, claire et rassurante. Il est facile de parler avec lui. Il m’a donné beaucoup de confiance en moi et grâce à lui, j’ai amélioré mon français. (Maintenant, il doit avoir la grosse tête.)

Serge a le même âge que moi. Il est français. Il est marié à Françoise, qui doit être une femme tolérante. Ils ont 2 enfants et un chien qui s’appelle « Socrate. » Je vous en dirai plus au sujet de Socrate plus tard. Serge est militaire dans l’armée de l’air depuis l’âge de dix-sept ans.

Il a deux passions dans sa vie, l’apprentissage de l’anglais et le cyclisme.

Chaque jour pendant des heures, Serge étudie l’anglais. C’est un passe-temps qu’il aime bien. En fait, il ne laisse jamais son travail interférer dans l'apprentissage de l'anglais! Quand son chef n’est pas là, il écoute des podcasts ou il écrit des histoires excellentes. A mon avis, un récit de Serge est toujours intéressant. Il a écrit des histoires sur son premier saut en parachute, sur l’année qu’il a passée sur une petite île volcanique parmi les pingouins ou sur son chien Socrate qui parle. Sa volonté à perfectionner son anglais est une source de motivation pour moi-même.

Presque chaque jour, on peut aussi trouver Serge sur son vélo. Il parcourt des centaines de kilomètres chaque semaine pour s’entraîner. Il fait du sport pour rester en forme. Il fait du cyclisme mais en amateur. Au printemps et en été, il participe à des compétitions amateurs. L’entraînement pour la course est une chose sérieuse pour Serge. Il se prépare en suivant un régime très strict. Les résultats sont là. Il est en forme ! Je le déteste.

Je plaisante. J’ai beaucoup d’admiration pour Serge. (Voyez-vous ??) Je le considère comme un bon ami. Je le remercie de son aide et bien sûr de son amitié.

(Dans cette photo, il porte le maillot jaune et rouge du Nouveau Mexique)

Breakfast in America

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” We were taught this in school. But the meal on the breakfast table can be as varied as Americans themselves.

A traditional American breakfast would be eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and coffee. The eggs are sometimes fried and sometimes scrambled. The bacon might be substituted by ham. Toast might be a biscuit in the southern states with butter, jam, honey or molasses. The second most favorite juice for breakfast is apple juice followed by grapefruit and grape juice. American coffee has a reputation around the world as being very weak. French people have commented that it’s like coffee flavored water. However, it is a beloved beverage here and starts off most mornings with milk, sugar substitute or straight out of the pot black.

Other breakfast variations are usually some type of bread served with maple syrup. Pancakes are a favored choice with a pat of butter. Next would be French Toast: bread dipped in egg and fried up in a pan until the egg is cooked. Then it’s topped with nutmeg, cinnamon or powdered sugar. An omelet is a breakfast food in the states. There are many combinations but my favorite is a Spanish Omelet with tomato, bell pepper, onion, mushrooms and salsa! Hot cereals are great on cold mornings. Oatmeal and Cream of Wheat are filling and good for you, but a bit tricky to get kids to eat.

Then there is the busy parent and almost-late-for-the-school-bus kid breakfast: cold cereal. I’m sorry to say most of what is on the grocery shelf is a box full of pricey nothing! In fact, it is almost child abuse in a box. Many cereals have little more than flour and sugar as substance. But kids are seduced by cute TV commercials and tend to nag Mom until she gives in and buys a box of “Sugar Doodles” with a prize inside! I’m guilty of this myself!

Today at our house we usually have lighter breakfasts of yogurt, fruit or bagels. We save the traditional foods for holidays and special occasions. However, some of my happiest memories are the Saturday mornings my husband would make banana-pecan pancakes for me and my infant son. It was a family breakfast tradition this American family started 25 years ago.

Voting For Dollars

One thing that really bothers me about Albuquerque is that the citizens never met a tax they didn’t love. It amazes me that they vote for anything that sounds good or noble, but never stop to think where the money comes from. Politicians are so clever. They have new taxes on the voting ballots described as ‘bonds.’ To the average, uninformed voter a bond sounds like a good thing so they press YES on the ballot. Or maybe they think, “Let’s stick it to the rich guys and vote this in” never realizing that even though they don’t own a home and pay property taxes, the landlord that owns the apartment they live in, does. They just raised their own rent to pay for the ‘bond.’

Tomorrow we have at least 7 bonds on the ballot. Among the more outrageous tax increases are $45 million to beautify the medians in between the streets of ABQ (it means putting cactus, decorative rocks and art where simple painted lines would suffice), $37.5 million for public parks and recreation ( sounds so nice, more green parks in brown ABQ) $14.5 million for Senior and Family Community Centers (why don’t they just stay home and play cards?) and $10.1 million for “affordable housing bonds.” This means the city will buy prime real estate to build houses that poor people can afford because real estate in ABQ is very expensive. Why should we pay for poor people to live here? Shouldn’t we hope they leave? Why don’t they move some place they can afford? They WILL have a heart attack when they become home owners and see how much property tax they have to pay.

Merci Beaucoup Monsieur

Recently, I had the unexpected opportunity to spend four days in Montréal, Quebec. My husband was going there on business and I tagged along as a tourist. We stayed in Laval, which is quite a ways from the tourist destination of Vieux Montréal. Like Paris, Montréal has a great, user friendly metro system. Each morning I’d walk about a mile to the station, ride into downtown Montréal and explore on foot.

One morning at the station, I was fishing in my purse for a $2 Canadian coin and 3 Canadian quarters for the metro fare. I noticed a slightly older than middle aged man in the booth making huge arm movements in my direction. He was trying to get my attention, so still fishing in my purse, I went to the booth and greeted him with, “Bonjour Monsieur .” I put my money through the window and he passed me a ticket, greeting me with, “Bonjour Madame. Comment allez-vous?” I think I surprised him with, “ Je vais bien merci et vous?” Then HE surprised me with, “Madame, vous êtes une jolie femme.” I was so surprised and embarrassed, but managed to say, “Oh! Merci beaucoup Monsieur. Vous êtes très gentil!” And then he told me, “De rien. Vous êtes belle!”

I am quite sure I am not the first woman with whom he’s flirted. But for me it was flattering and especially nice to hear in French. He doesn’t know it, but he made my day!