Dinner with a Paintbrush

Dscf0016 When I arrived in France I didn't speak a word of French.
 
 
Humble pie was my constant buddy, observing in silence my new vehicle and redecorating was how I stayed focus during dinner parties.
 
 
Those dinner parties where we would sit for hours around the table, with the constant changing of plates at each course. The chirping chatter of the guests made my head spin, I had to do something while smiling and nodding in ignorance…that is how I came up with redecorating.
 
 
 
During the aperitif, I would pick a theme…With the amuse-gueule color, charts came to mind…While the soup was served I would select which walls to demolish. The arrival of the main course and throughout the cheese entree, my full attention was choosing fabrics for the curtains, and upholstery. With the dinner guests well into their conversations, I was replacing the furniture and hanging mirrors in my mind's eye…
Enfin, with dessert and coffee being served, the entire room would be remodeled.


Comments

13 responses to “Dinner with a Paintbrush”

  1. Love that story!!

  2. I love your stories.
    Love and hugs
    Jeanne

  3. But it’s way more fun now that you can participate in the conversation, no?

  4. This made me smile because it describes so well the ex-patriot situation. I used to think people were talking about deep subjects, when they may have been discussing plumbing.

  5. Rachel Schindler

    This is why I love following you. I am always rearranging people’s houses. I am in good company.

  6. What a clever way to cope.

  7. This reminds me of the way I cope with performances of dissonant, abstract modern classical music: I imagine it as the soundtrack for a suspense film or TV show, then let the plot unfold in my mind to match the changes in the music!

  8. Brilliant, perhaps I should adopt this during boring meetings etc! Love your attitude.

  9. i know that Corey, je connais ca corey, j,adore, et c ´est très plaisant;-))))
    xxx Tina 😉
    j´aime enormement ton charmant histoire……!

  10. I finally feel normal….I do that where ever I go. It’s a good thing people can’t read my mind.
    Ali

  11. Guess that’s what people mean making lemonade out of lemons. Not that it is a hardship to live in France, but not understanding what is going on around you can be uncomfortable and isolating. And now look what you have…..
    Congrats.

  12. Wonderful tale 🙂
    At the beginning of my relationship with my French spoken Swiss husband I often thought that he was impolite, aloof – because he seemed totally non-participating in our discussions. When in 2008, we moved to France, it was me who came to know how it feels to be included and at the same excluded. I’m sure my French was much better than yours at the time you sat there amongst guests and yet, I often felt totally wrought and ‘écartée’…. My head was just so tired of listening, digesting, translating…. So, same as Hero Husband, I switched off and let my mind wander to places I appreciated.
    You were cleverer than me. But then I already had the decorating bug in me… 😉

  13. It is so much fun to learn how your mind creates. You are a treasure.

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