I can’t admit how much I love England whilst ignoring its more colo(u)rful, flavo(u)rful relative, France. You see, I once had an ardent affection for all things françaises.
My obsession began in my twelfth year. We were required to pick a foreign language class in junior high school (ages 12-15). So, I looked over the options:
Spanish? ¡No! Too common!
German? Nein! Too much angry phlegm!
French? Oui! Just right!
Between pain au chocolat and Mont St. Michel; le Tour Eiffel and croissants; 400+ fromages officiels and Versailles; chocolat et chocolat; I fell for France like a pre-teen falling for a boy band.
The language was s-i-l-k. I loved calling a dog un chien, a car une voiture, and a pizza une pizza. I loved slurring words or artistically dropping endings. I loved expanding my lexicon; I could soon exclaim, “Zut alors!” or suggest we go “chez moi.”
I studied the language all through high school (ages 15-18) and into college. The relationship moved from underage crush to fangirl stalking.
If I could go anywhere in the world, it would be to France. Cream puffs were my favorite dessert. I knew to never cut French bread at the table. My 1’s had a serif and my 7’s a strikethrough. My months were janvier à décembre and my days were lundi à dimanche.
Then… we drifted apart. It was primarily communication problems -I simply couldn’t talk to France the way I could to England. I admitted that, all those times I’d promised to visit, I was lying. And, despite a brief fling with Astérix, I didn’t quite understand the French sense of humor.
Alas, we were never meant to be. C’était, peut-être, l’Angleterre. Peut-être…
What of you? Have you ever loved and left? Which country’s heart did you break?
Aaaand, here are the things I wrote since last noting the things I wrote:
Wednesday, May 19: Asked about your favorite desserts.
Friday, May 20: An egg-cellent Friday Photo!
Monday, May 23: Mormon Monday! Sundays are for taking the Sacrament.
Tuesday, May 24: Expressed my emphatic emotions of England.
Thursday, May 26: It’s another Terrible Poetry Contest! YOU SHOULD ALL ENTER since this is the last one before I take a break. It’s a sonnet about soup. What’s not appetizing about that?
Friday, May 27: Yo-Yo-Yo-Toy-Yodahhh!
Saturday, May 28: Wrote a terrible poem that still needs work, to deal with the pain of Uvalde.
Sunday, May 29: Quoted Holly Whitaker.
Monday, May 30: I’m a Mormon, so I keep the Sabbath Day holy.
Tuesday, May 31ish: The Open Book Blogger Award!!
©2022 Chel Owens