Monday, September 29, 2014

Chaotic collection of haphazard collisions anyone?

I went to my first rugby game on Sunday. As anyone who knows me well can tell you, I am not a sports fan. Especially violent team sports. But my friend reminds me that there will be some cute guys playing, so I decide to give it a go.

Before heading out, I take a quick look at the Rugby for Dummies website. The explanation is ominous:

For the first time rugby player or viewer, the sport can appear to be a chaotic collection of indecipherable movements and haphazard collisions. In reality, rugby is highly technical and organized with specific laws governing all aspects of play. 

With the strange words scrum, lineout, maul and ruck swimming through my brain, I dab sunscreen on my nose, take a deep breath and head for le stade in the neighboring village of Castillonnes.

Luckily for this novice, I am accompanied by friends who are fully knowledgeable about the game, meaning they only are confused some of the time.

Also, through the magic of audition de la superpuissance (superpower hearing), I am able to hear and understand what the players on the field are saying.

Pierre is bringing the buns. Jean Paul said he'd
pick up the hot dogs. I'm bringing the potato salad.
Now, who's bringing the beer?

Last one to the end zone is a scrum rucker!

Please don't step on my head! Please don't step
on my head! Are they gone yet, Antoine?

Thanks for helping me look for my contact lens,
guys. My mom said she'd kill me if I lost another one.

Hey, that tickles!

You put your right foot in, you take your right foot out,
you put your right foot in and you shake it all about...

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Maybe they were praying to find a man

There is never a shortage of churches in France. This one, Église Saint-Léger, located near Saint-Pardoux-Issac, caught my eye while on a bike ride last month. Ken and I were trying a new route home, sur nos vélos, to avoid some hills and traffic. (Feel free to give a hearty "hah!" when I use the term "traffic," because I actually mean the half dozen or so cars that may have passed us. Often I see no cars at all on bike rides, especially when I ride during the lunch hours.) 

L'église Saint-Léger dates from the 13th century and was restored in 1992. It is now locked up tight, but the sign at its gate says that at one time, the church contained a wooden statue where femme jeunes célibataires (young single women) would gather. They'd light candles and pray; if the candles went out then it was a sign they would find husbands.

Alrighty, then!

On another note, if you haven't checked out the blog I write for the AngloINFO Dordogne website, "Lot of Livin'." please do so when you have the time. The link is here.

And you can subscribe to this blog (below) so new posts appear, as if by magic, in your very own email inbox. 

Friday, September 5, 2014

An ellipsis kind of day ...

Maybe it's because I'm missing my better half, but les tournesols seemed especially sad on yesterday's randonéà vélo (bike ride).

And the scratchy wild flowers seemed to grab at my calves ...

But there were a few lovely sites ...

Like this fixer upper ...

And the spookiest église in the neighborhood. This is the church in Queyssel, in which our younger son said he'd like to live. Maybe someday it'll go on the market and I can entice Luke to return to France by buying it for him. Ah, les rêves!

If you like this, you can read another blog I write on AngloINFO Dordogne.