Mish-Mosh

First let’s clear up Dog Days.  I have heard from the readers.  The consensus is that Dog Days is indeed a term referring to a time of hot hot weather.  And some readers admit to even using the phrase (particularly in regard to a time of summer when algae grows in the lake and you can’t swim) but the consensus also is that it is not specifically a synonym for a Heat Wave.

It’s been raining here and the temperature has finally cooled down.  In fact, I am sitting by the open window with a sweater on.  It goes back to the 80s next week, but evenings will be in the 60s so that is quite livable.

Don’t give a somewhat broken egg to the guy at the super marche.  In the States, he would take the egg and thank you profusely… or a little bit… for taking a damaged egg out of the carton before some unsuspecting customer bought it.  So I found a dented egg.  Yes. Dented.  It wasn’t cracked all the way through, but it was cracked and pushed in like it had hit the side of a desk.  I gave it to the guy restocking the meat directly next to the eggs.  Now these eggs are in their own open carton of about 30+ eggs.  You take one out at a time and put it into a carton for six with a lid and take that to the checkout.  So I give the guy the egg, point at the dent.  And I walk away.  Quickly, actually.  I look back and he has called a buddy to show him the egg.  They both look at it like what’s the problem?  What are we supposed to do with this now?  I turned into the next aisle.  I expect they just put it back.

I am learning to write dates on the things I buy – like dish soap, clothes soap, softener.  My goal is to better organize my deliveries.  Best to run out of things at about the same time so I can take advantage of the delivery guys.  Yesterday was a delivery day.  I got to the store about 8:45 am.  No reason to go earlier as the delivery check out doesn’t open til 9.  And amazingly, when I did get to it at 9:10 there was no line!  There wasn’t even a checker yet.  The packing guys and I chatted about the oddity of that.

Last time I received a text telling me that the delivery was on its way.  And even linked to a map.  Did I tell you about that?  The map would tell me that the delivery would be here in 5 minutes… but then the truck turned left instead of right, going to another house.  So the delivery time kept changing from 5 to 10 to 5 to 10 minutes as they kept going to other houses before mine.  This time I got the email and text AFTER the delivery was made.  So much for technology.  And I must be developing a second sense for Monoprix delivery trucks.  For some reason I looked out the window and saw a white unmarked van, with a driver getting in to it.  I opened my apartment door and – voila!  There was the other guy bringing up the sacks.

Best time to buy bread?  Between 5 and 7 pm.  Seems to be the time they bake their last supply.  Of course, you might have to buy two loaves – how can you make it back to the apartment with a loaf of warm bread without nibbling on it? I even see the French doing this.

One of my favorite TV shows is Chasseurs d’Appart.  Reality/Game/Real estate show.  Takes place in different cities in France.  Each week has three local realtors working with a different couple each day.  The couple says what they are looking for.  The realtors take them to three different apartments or houses and at the end the couple has to pick which one they liked the most.  The realtor with the most points at the end of the week wins money.

Why do I like it?  I practice my French.  In French of course and I have the French subtitles on.  I get to see different towns.  And I get to see how the French live and decorate.  The gamut: gorgeous to bizarre to definitely odd and uninhabitable.  Two things stand out – beds.  So many of the French have their beds low… maybe just on the floor.  Like we used to do in college.  Or in the first apartment before we could afford a bed frame.  I am too old for that!  I am fortunate that my landlady put an Ikea bedframe with drawers here.    The other thing is gardens.  If the place has a garden, it’s lawn is… well, it isn’t even a lawn.  Clumps of grass…  No lawn mowing.  Fences ugly and falling down.  I can’t even imagine an American agent showing such a house.  Now, to be fair, not all backyards are  terrible.  Some look wild and free and relaxing.  Especially when you realize that such yards don’t need mowing!

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