Snippets

If you travel far enough south on the River Muese,  you find yourself in Lorraine country….as in quiche. There is more to Lorraine, though, than just a piece of pie, no matter how delicious.  The village Domremy-la-Purcelle is in Lorraine, birthplace of Joan of Arc. Not far from there, less than 2 kilometers, is the very spot where she heard her “voices” telling her to save France.  A chapel stands there now.

Another local favorite is Stanislaw Leszczynski, twice deposed King of Poland who, after becoming the Duke of Lorraine by the good graces of his nephew, France’s Louis XV, also became a patron of the arts and a tireless builder.  Here in Commercy, we are about half a kilometer from one of Stan’s country cottages. Also, under Mr. Lesczynski’s rule, rum baba and Madeleine sponge cakes were born, which I am sure he enjoyed as evidenced by the roundness of his cheeks in his portraits.  Those gastronomical delights probably assuaged his hunger after a busy day of running around building.

The country summer cottage of His Royal Portly-ness

Verdun is in Lorraine.  We don’t know what to say about Verdun and its World War I history.  Reciting statistics such as there isn’t a tree standing today that was alive prior to 1918 or that  the 10 month long battle between the Germans, the French and finally the Americans resulted in over 800,000 casualties, seem to reduce the pain that was felt then and sacrifices that were made to something akin to being impressed by the world’s largest hot dog.  Perhaps those young men knew what they were fighting for, perhaps their sense of patriotism kept them from despair.  We certainly hope so.  Even after 93 years, reading the names engraved on the memorials tugs at almost everyone’s heart.   Thank goodness WWI ended the notion of the romance of war….no one today would wait until the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month to end a bloody conflict, or would they?  

That the tourist office in Verdun is exceptionally accommodating is an understatement.  First of all, moorage for boats is gratis (water and electricity included), then the Office de Tourisme lends you an electric car, free of charge, so that you can tour the battlegrounds, or go to the store if you need to.   It’s not a big car, just a big gesture.  Thank you, Verdun.

Big enough for 1-1/2

Most of the locks on the Muese are automatic, which means that you are given a remote control so you can point and click to begin the lock’s process of opening, filling and lifting your boat up to the next level (or down if you’re going the other way).  Great system, although sometimes…it was a dark and rainy day and the two red lights on the outside of the lock told us that it was out of service, not operating, kaput.  With no convenient place to tie up,  Dwight maneuvered the boat next to a grassy, sloping, slippery bank, I leaped off, clutching a line to hold the boat steady against the current.  Then, as we were pounding stakes into the muddy ground to secure the boat, we debated about who was going to walk up to the lock to use the intercom to report the outage, all the while yelling at Yogi-dog to shut-up, stop barking and screaming because he wasn’t going to be allowed off the boat.   Dwight has the better rain coat so he went, scrambling up the bank on his hands and knees.  Just as he got to the lock, a VNF (Voies Navigable de France) truck pulled up and the lockkeeper told us to bring the boat inside the lock.  Dwight hurried back through the pouring rain but getting down the bank turned out to be harder than getting up.  With his fanny stuck high in the air, Dwight cautiously slid almost face down the slope, grabbing at tall weeds to slow his velocity.  We could choose to be dry, comfortable and warm in a sweet little house in the desert--what are we thinking?

Dwight warming himself with soup while at......

at lock bottom, waiting, waiting, waiting

Our boat, Echo, is well named.  You’ve read before how Dwight used salvaged wood to build our much needed salon settee.  Now we have cushions.  One of our trips to a grocery store required a 3 kilometer bicycle ride and as we were pedaling, I noticed a thick piece of foam rubber in the roadside ditch.  Turns out that someone lost a lightweight twin size mattress.  It must have been in the ditch for awhile because it was wet and buggy, but someone’s loss is our gain.  We rolled the piece of foam as tightly as we could, secured it to the bike and brought it to its new floating home.  Now, with our brightly covered cushions and our step/footrest made from a wooden wine crate that Dwight rescued from a restaurant dumpster, we almost have a living room.  So it seems that this boat is being brought to a livable condition by things that have a past--an echo of what used to be--how appropriate.  Has anyone seen a small folding table we could pick up?

Back cushions are next

Lessons for All

In one of his books, the writer David Sedaris describes his attempts to learn French.  He tells about a day he asked a butcher “Is them the thoughts of cows?” when he really meant to ask if the meat in the display case was calf’s brains.  Apparently Mr. Sedaris and I have a stumbling block in common.  Lately I have found myself blurting out phrases that sound just as ridiculous.  I might be making progress though, at least I am beginning to realize how foolish I sound.  The French, bless their hearts, being a kindly, polite people, just smile and nod, agreeing “yes, them is.”

As my French practice for this week, I have composed a little story for your enjoyment and edification (but don’t quote me on any of it.....although you may correct me).

See Yogi
Voyez Yogi

See Yogi jump off the boat
Voyez Yogi saut de le bateau

See Yogi slip and fall in the water
Voyez Yogi glisse’ et tombe dans l’eau

Help me, help me says Yogi
Aidez-moi, aidez-moi, dit Yogi

See Fran
Voyez Fran

See Fran lie down in the mud
Voyez Fran s’allonge dans le boue

See Fran lift Yogi out of the water
Voyez Fran leve Yogi de l’eau

See a very dirty Fran, a very wet Yogi and a happy ending
Voyez Fran tres sale, Yogi tres mouillle’ et un conclure heureaux

Too bad Yogi didn't fall in here, at least Fran would have stayed clean