Do French women get fat? Are the French rude and arrogant? — Are the French always exclaiming ooh lá lá, wearing berets and never getting fat? After living here for ten years and having numerous conversations with my French friend Hélène — mostly while drinking wine, I now know the truth behind the myths. President Macron has not yet congratulated me on…

And la langue française has beaucoup ways to make you blush — In the ten years I’ve lived in France, I’ve sufficiently increased my vocabulary that I can usually come up with the words I need and rattle off a few sentences. It’s the pronunciation — I have trouble with my r’s even in English — that gives me trouble, plus my…

My brain begins to hurt — It’s always helpful when something has the same name in English and French. Orange, for example. I appreciate that. Onion is close enough(oignon), although pronunciation can still be tricky. “Onyon,” I say, as though I have a stuffed-up nose. It’s the closest I can get. I know that corn in…

Today, I learned that I’m frizzy — Learning a foreign language isn’t easy. French might not be the most difficult, but it’s complicated enough to tax my seventy-plus year old brain especially early on a Monday morning. Arriving bleary-eyed with a few other ex-pats all of us hoping to one day to parler française like grown-ups rather…

So I moved next door to the Queen Mary and a Russian submarine — It was 2002. I’d just sold my first book to Harlequin and was under contract to write three more. I forget how long it took me to write the first book, but definitely longer than three months, the deadline I’d been given to complete the next one. I’d barely sipped…

Wooden boxes — but not just any wooden boxes — The bucolic village of Camembert in northern France may look much as it did back in the 1700s when a farmer’s wife began making the cheese that would become a symbol of the French resistance but don’t be deceived by the tranquillity. Once again there is resistance afoot. This time…

But food isn’t the only reason to visit — In the ten years since moving to France, I’ve never lost my fascination for the weekly markets, or ever left one — shopping bags bulging with vegetables, cheese and whatever else catches my eye — without feeling a burst of happiness. French markets are more than just a collection of…

I haven’t really thought about it — We might have mussels, if the coquillage van stops in the village as it does most Thursdays. If not, maybe pizza. It definitely won’t be turkey, even if I could find one that wasn’t the size of a small car. Here in France, whole turkeys are typically sold around Christmas…

Could I still do the walk I did nine years ago? — Age and hip surgery offer easy excuses to do nothing more energetic than linger in bed with coffee and the NYT, but then I’ve always been good at talking myself out of things, especially exercise. The weather is good for supplying excuses. It’s raining, too hot, too cold, Then there’s…