December 21, 2022 Again….

 December 21…. Or not

Oh, dear, my days are all screwed up. I dont know what date is which day. On Tuesday, we went to Riquewihr. Wednesday was Christmas Market day. I havent written about that yet. So now my posts are a bit out of order. Such is life.

OK, Wednesday morning we went to the bank but my credit card didn’t work at the ATM. (Sigh) I didn’t have my second card with me so I was cash-less. We went to a chocolate shop and I bought some of the yummiest chocolate. At this shop, the owner travels the world and gets cocao beans. Then he roasts them and grinds them and makes the yummiest of yummy chocolates. (Actually, the chocolate from Boise is running neck ‘n’ neck with this.) We then went to the grocery store. Markets and stores are interesting in other countries. You weigh, bag and put a price sticker on the produce you buy here. We got some fruit and tea and other stuff. Then we went back “home.” We had lunch.

After lunch, we went to the Christmas Market. There were so many people, we had to walk a long ways from where Francis dropped us off before parking the car. We walked to the square where the Cathedral is. One is unable to describe the magnificence of this cathedral but the look on Sarah’s face when she saw it showed the awe of its architecture.

We walked around looking at the buildings and the lights. We had some fun posing.

There is also a place where there is a column next to a building which has been a restaurant forever. In the olden days, before scales and Weight Watchers, people would try to squeeze between the column and the building. If they could make it, they could go into the restaurant. If they couldn’t squeeze between the column and the building, they knew they needed to go on a diet. Maybe they weren’t allowed into the restaurant? That part of the story is a bit fuzzy. I gave the old column a try……

I’ll just show you some of the photos I took.

Notice what she is wearing..her jacket.

Just before leaving we had to have the famous vin chaud. (Hot spiced wine)—or warm apple juice.

And then we left.

Oh…forgot…on the way out we saw some bunny rabbits making anise cookies. (Sorry if you can’t see this video.)

https://share.icloud.com/photos/085HqcXqMExwQ7sVKtZUS6YeQ

Later, we had some time to kill so Fabi told us about her job before she retired.  She worked at the largest newspaper in Strasbourg where she was responsible for a supplement on beauty and fashion. The clients, aka advertisers, gave her a lot of product to try and then review. She constantly received boxes of creams, and cosmetics, and nail polish. Nail polish? Yes. She showed us her box of polish and we went to work. 

We had many colors to choose from and Sarah used many of them. She polished her left hand and I polished my left hand. And then she polished my right one and…..ahem…. I attempted to polish her right one. Take a look closely… I won’t be working in a nail shop anytime soon. 

For dinner we first went to Jerome and Celine’s house. About 2 years ago, they bought an old broken down house and completely refurbished it. The inside is very modern while the outside retains its Alsatian look. Sorry no photos. I forgot.

From Celine’s house, we went to a restaurant and had tarte flambée. I died and went to heaven. Rather than explaining it, I’ll just show you. We ate about 4 different kinds. And I had “picon bière”…“avec.” That means a beer with the liquor called picon and “avec” (with) a bit of lemon. I’ve always loved this and was glad to see it on the menu.

For dessert, Sarah had lemon tarte. I had a bite. It’s a lot like lemon meringue pie.

We got back late. I was ready for bed. Goodnight.

December 21-22 Monsieur Gilbert

 December 21-22. Monsieur Gilbert

There is a neighbor. His name is Gilbert (pronounced Jeel-Behr). Fabi calls him the “concierge” of the neighborhood. That means he takes care of plants and animals when people go on vacation. He generally watches out for things, makes sure things work and sees that all is safe and secure. He really is a very nice man. He also makes sure that foreigners like me know how to properly stay in a French house. For example, I must turn out the outside (and inside) lights; make sure the gate is closed—slowly push the buttons on the keypad to lock it; close the shutters at night and open them in the morning….oh and latch the shutters which means going outside to do that after opening them. Well, he carefully explained all this to me on two occasions and he had Fabi explain it to me. The lights were left on one night so that’s probably why he let me know the way things work here. He spoke slowly and I did appreciate it. However, I knew that if I forgot something, he would let me know again. Yesterday, when we left for Fabi’s house, I tried very carefully to do everything. I opened the shutters, turned out the lights, turned down the heat, locked the door, checked that the outside light was off, opened the gate, shut the gate; made sure the gate was locked. Whew! We went to Fabi’s for petite déjeuner. After breakfast, I remembered that I hadn’t latched the shutters. I jumped up and put on my boots. Fabi said, “Don’t worry about it. We can do it when we leave.” I said, “But I don’t want Monsieur Gilbert to see that I didn’t latch the shutters.” So, I hurried out, latched the shutters, and returned. Whew! I got there before he did. Score!

The house where we’re staying.

The shutters on the house. See the little latches?