Category Archives: Sign Language

To Market We Go

Processed with RookiePart of the greatness of visiting friends who have already lived in Avignon for a year is learning all about the local French culture. Our friends, a family of four, jumped into life in France with all 8 feet!

In the short week we’ve joined them, they have demonstrated how decisions about where to go, what to do, and what to eat in France are based on what is nearby, what is available, and what is fresh. As a rule, the French eat fruits and vegetables that are grown locally and in season. Period. Imported produce is bought very reluctantly by locals. If it’s not apple season in France, you don’t buy apples. And if you aren’t sure what’s in season, you’ll realize soon enough when you see the price of imported apples next to the local apricots.

In the city Avignon, there is Les Halles market that is open most days selling fresh produce, meat, dairy, and fish, which we visited soon after arriving here. And once a week on Thursdays, just outside the city walls across the bridge there is a weekly outdoor market in Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon, a small town originally built as a fortress to protect access to the bridge to Avignon.
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We strolled over to Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon’s market day, our cloth shopping bags in hand. It’s a large, lively outdoor market, with food as well as goods and clothing.
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The booths were dazzling and the smells were out of this world -how do I describe the olives stall?! It took my breath away and my feet instinctively stopped dead as I just breathed in the pungent scent of freshly picked olives of every size and colour. Handcrafted tapenades and olive-based spreads were also tickling my nose. It was heaven for an olive lover like me, and soon my two olive-loving kids doubled back to see what I was staring at.
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It was so great to be able to eat some of the local olives we had seen growing in the groves we had passed by in our daily excursions to Tavel and Orange this week. We enthusiastically bought a few assorted kinds of green and black olives and started to munch right away. We chomped as we strolled the market and bought incredibly fresh, local produce for our last homemade dinner with our friends in Avignon before leaving the next day for Cannes.
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In the Pink

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During their daily explorations while their children were at school, our friends discovered the town of Tavel (ta-velle), about a 35 minute drive north-west of Avignon. Favoured by the Sun-King Louis XIV and praised by Balzac, Mistral, and even Hemingway, Tavel is well-known for making France’s most famous rosé.

“Tavel wines are made predominantly from the Grenache, Syrah and Clairette varieties and are intended to be drunk chilled, as a more complex alternative to white wines during the hot summer months. The hot, dry Mediterranean climate means that the grapes have no difficulty in reaching full phenolic ripeness here.”

www.wine-searcher.com

So, on a very hot, dry Mediterranean-style day, we went to visit the Tavel winery Château La Genestière Saint-Anthelme, which had originally been a silk farm on a beautiful plot of grape-growing gorgeousness. We toured the wine-making facilities, seeing where the grapes came through the chute from above and walking through the pressing area, which is completely chilled to maintain the fresh aromas and flavours of the grapes.
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Then the kids were shooed outside to play while the adults tested a few wines. We did a tasting of their reds, whites, and rosés, which were all so delightful, but we happily chose to buy a case of a Tavel rosé due to the scorching South of France weather. The rosés were incredibly refreshing here, and locally grown and made –Louis XIV knew his stuff!

Off to lunch in the little town of Tavel, where we walked by beautiful old homes surrounded by narrow streets. We passed by the town centre’s washing pool, dating back to the 1300’s, where people would come to wash clothes.
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Indeed, someone’s freshly washed rugs, no doubt too large to hang at home, were hanging to dry on the adjacent stone walls behind the pool:
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Through the gate beyond those walls was a huge community garden. A waterway to irrigate the gardens flows down along the stone path between the garden plots, and many plots of young tomatoes, lavender, onions and other vegetables were set up to grow:
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Lunch was at a little restaurant our friends had discovered in the middle of Tavel called Le Philosyph, run solely by Stéphane and Edwige, the chef and the maître d, respectively. The food was unbelievable –oh, la, la! A simple plate of canard avec sauce au poivre, des carrots, et des pommes de terre rôti, roasted duck with pepper sauce, carrots and potatoes, but made with love by a chef following his passion. It was absolutely the most delicious duck I have ever tasted.
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Let’s just say, every one of us wanted to lick the plate, except maybe Ian, who has a smaller appetite than the rest of us, but dad was happy to help him finish the few last bites on his plate.

What a day! We got to take an insider’s tour of the highlights of a quaint town bearing beautiful wines and foods, with a little history thrown in there, too. Both the winery and restaurant in Tavel are must-sees on our list of to do’s around Avignon.

And in case it wasn’t completely clear, Scott and I are now officially rosé-lovers.

To sign PINK in American Sign Language, with one hand in the letter “P” handshape –thumb tucked in between extended index and middle fingers– drag the tip of the middle finger down across the lips twice.
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For more about Tavel, here’s a quick New York Times article of a wine retailer’s family visit during wine harvesting time.

Haribo Candy Museum

Did someone say candy?

To throw in a little excitement for the kids (both big and small) during our week in Avignon, we spent an afternoon at the Musée d’Haribo, a candy museum in the nearby town of Uzès. A whole afternoon? At a candy museum? Mais, oui!
Our friends had visited the museum several times, and recommended it highly for a little sweet tooth fix, and some history, too, of course. Haribo has European roots with factories worldwide. It specializes in making gummy candies of all kinds and shapes, like bears and coke bottles, and began gaining fame after World War I making licorice candies. Licorice is not my thing, but I loooove gummies, and I used to buy the wrapped Maoam chewy candies (pictured below) all the time when I was a kid. I had no idea they had such a long, rich, European background.
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The man behind Haribo, Hans Riedel, originally came from the town of Bonne, and so created the name of his candy company from the first two letters of his name HA (Hans) RI (Riedel) BO (Bonne) –Haribo!
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My kids loved the interactive games area where they had to add up the weight totals of different kinds of candy to determine a delivery, and spin the marshmallows tub with one arm in time with the syrup pouring with the other. The museum was unlike any I’d ever seen, and I had moments of feeling like I was in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory at times, with oversized installations of gummies and technicolor displays of Haribo’s incredible repertoire of candy.
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Although there are Haribo factories all over the world, including North America, apparently the best Haribo candies are made in the European factories. We got to walk through both buildings at the Provence musée -one for display of how the candy was created, and one factory building where certain types of Haribo candies were made. The last place we visited at the Musée d’Haribo was, of course, the gift shop!
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More candy then I’ve ever seen before, and people were piling it into boxes the size of grocery store baskets. The fever to buy candy was contagious, and although our kids don’t buy or eat candy regularly at home, we decided to join the locals and throw some coke bottles, gummy bears, and sour cherries into a box and call it a day (in France).

To sign CANDY in American Sign Language, twist the tip of your index finger on your cheek:
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Les Halles en Avignon

Our week in Avignon was not long enough! Our friends had several trips planned for us, and we were awed by each of them. But our first morning in Avignon had us walking the narrow cobbled streets within the walled city to go to Les Halles -the covered market.

imageIt was necessary to get there before it closed at 1pm because it was not open the next day, and the ability to locate any fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, and cheeses would be scarce otherwise. Our bodies were still acclimatizing to the time change and the late night at the music festival the night before, so our friends had to push us along a little to get to Les Halles before closing.

We entered the market building and witnessed the flurry of activity of merchants selling their wares and shoppers scooting around to fulfill their grocery lists before closing. During their year living in Avignon, our friends had met many of the merchants and became friendly with those that they frequented the most. Such is life -you get good service or realize where the best product is, and you return. Friendships begin.

Many of the merchants spoke a little English, and also appreciated their attempts to speak French, so our friends had made friends with the cheese mongers, the produce family, and the meat sellers through weekly banter and commerce. In French markets, you grab a basket and then fill it with your produce. It is then weighed and totaled for you.

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Still in a haze, Scott and I were led around the market to the various stalls, and then just as quickly, the shopping was done and our dinner was bought. Ok, we were done; time for a drink!?
Throughout Avignon are les places, or town squares. Almost year round there are tables and chairs set up outside of bistros and restaurants within these town squares where there is no vehicle traffic. People can sit, have a drink and watch the world go by. Which is exactly what we did on our first afternoon in Avignon.

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Afterwards, our family decided to take a little survey of the town via the touristy tram tour and see some of the highlights of Avignon while our friends returned home. The Palais de Papes (the palace of the Pope) is a gorgeous building in the centre of town, built first as a respite from the Vatican, and then became home to 6 popes during the 1300’s and was built upon and expanded.
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After the tour, we were treated to our first home-cooked meal in France (although it was 35 degrees outside, so cold salads from our market trip were lovingly prepared and it was an ideal dinner). And some rosé pour les adultes, s’il vous plâit!

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Flip Flop Faux Pas

By the end of our first day visiting Paris and after wandering around our hotel’s neighbourhood, I noticed 2 things: French people often make eye contact, look at one another and will hold their gaze on each other in passing, much longer than in North America. They are not shy about looking, and so, the people-watching is fantastic! I enjoyed taking in all the chic little outfits with the beautiful accessories passing me.

Secondly, and more importantly,

Parisian women do not wear flip flops.

Upon checking into the hotel, I had swiftly changed into my flip flops to go explore the area and find some lunch. I kept noticing people making eye contact with me while passing on the street, and then doing a double-take of my feet. Over and over again. I was perplexed as I watched them glance at my shoes with puzzled looks on their faces. Then it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen one single person wearing flip flops all day around our hotel’s non-touristy neighbourhood. Not once. Looks like I had already made my first fashion faux-pas in Paris!

But then again, it could’ve been the maple leaf painted on my toe…?

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Thank you to Ricky at Bloom Essentials for the patriotic paint job.

Up, Up and Away!

Off to the airport this morning, we are on our way! After planning this European holiday almost a year ago, and counting down the days for months on the calendar, it was finally time. My heart has been fluttering almost constantly for a week, and I’ve been jittery and light-headed for the past 3 days. Yesterday I walked into a pole, botched the laundry, and lost my house keys. But today?

Today’s the day to fly to Paris!

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Wish us luck, we have a long flight with a stopover in Montreal, then another 6 hour flight to Paris. We arrive at 9:30am Paris time, so we are planning to take the train into Paris, settle into our hotel, and try to stay awake as long as possible –here’s hoping! Tomorrow we hop on a fast train to Avignon for a week of adventures with our Vancouver friends in Provence…

To sign AIRPLANE in American Sign Language, one hand takes off like an airplane up and across body with the pinky, index finger, and thumb extended while other 2 fingers are tucked in.
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Family Trip (of a lifetime)

I’m looking forward to seeing what spending so much family time together really looks like.

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Next week we are heading to Europe with the kids for 6 weeks. Our very good friends moved to the south of France last summer for one year, and we promised to go visit them before they move back home. And we always hold good on our promises (especially when it involves France)! Well, now I’m fibbing. We’ve never taken the kids to Europe, but it’s time to take advantage of our friends’ invitation to come visit. So, in a week we will hop on a plane -me, my husband, Scott, our 12 year old daughter, Ella, and 8 year old son, Ian and begin what I know will be the trip of a lifetime. We’ll be gone for 6 weeks and will visit 5 cities in France and England: Paris, Avignon, Cannes, Oxford, and London.

Luckily for me, my husband is a stellar trip planner -like out of this world. He gets all the credit for logistically putting this trip together (thanks, babe). He’s lined up some incredible accommodations for us to stay in: 2 big-city apartments, a beachside hotel, a quaint farmhouse, as well as our friends’ generous invitation to stay with them in their digs within the city walls of Avignon. And don’t forget about food! We’ve got reservations for world class food experiences in both countries- celebrity chef restaurants and Michelin stars are in our near future. And daily doses of pain au chocolat and gelato may be necessary.

TRAVEL: with first two fingers bent, hand is circled up and around sideways
(like traveling around on a map)

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As daunting as a 6 week trip away from home with children is, (yes, I’m freaking out a little bit inside) I’m looking forward to seeing what spending so much family time together really looks like. Away from work, away from school, away from home. It occurred to me lately that this is a great opportunity to chronicle our trip as a family and increase the chances of being mindful in our travels together, so I’m writing about it. And taking pictures. And, of course, I’m going to add a dash of American Sign Language to our adventures along the way…

Come with us!

You can join the trip by signing up for my Growing Signs posts here (click the red box above right), and on Instagram & Facebook.

The Colours of Sports Day

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Every year my school-aged kids have Sports Day, and I have to admit, I love it. I have vivid memories of my own sports days as a kid – I absolutely loved the running, the games, the parade, the 3-legged race, the relays, and admittedly, I loved the doughnuts and hot dogs. All that still happens at my kids’ school now (including the doughnuts!), and it’s like a fantastic jump back in time for me. Literally. There’s a hilarious Parents-Only Sack Race & 3-Legged Race at the beginning to kick off the kids’ day.

Another big part of Sports Day is the COLOURS (yes, in Canada we spell it with a U, bear with me, my south of the border friends!) Each year the kids are assigned to a team with a team COLOUR. For me, I was always on the orange team, which was almost impossible to find clothes in, of course, but my mom did her best to make sure I had one tee shirt with some scrap of orange for sports day. Now that I’m the mother, it’s my job to dig through the dresser drawers for the right tee and shorts to match my kids’ team colour, which changes each year. Sigh.

You should know that I refuse to buy
clothes just for one day. I won’t.

And for some reason, neither of my kids has EVER been on the blue team. Why not? Blue clothes are stacked aplenty in our closets. And why hasn’t there ever been a pink or purple team? That would be handy for the two entire years my daughter refused to wear anything that wasn’t pink or purple. Instead, I’ve repeatedly had to find green, yellow and red, which are unfavoured, scarce clothing colours in my house.

Last year, Ian was on the red team, and I managed to find a red-ish tee in his closet, yay! But it was a scorching weather week, and as Sports Day edged closer I realized he would need a hat to stay cool and protected. That morning, digging through the front closet yielded a cargo green hat. Green! Dagnabbit, I needed something red. After some thought, I decided I’d paint the hat red. I know, I know, that is a pretty silly idea, but I was determined to use what we had. I didn’t have time to paint the whole hat, so I thought about something that could make the hat appear more red than it was, at least from the front, and I remembered something Ian loved that could ensure the hat was a success and worn for Sports Day.

TAH DAH!
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Not bad for an 8am paint job.

Sports Day has rolled around again, and Ian informed me that he is not on the red team again, but on the green team this year. Green.
Of course.

What lengths have you gone to for Sports Day colours?

For more COLOURS, check out these Signs of the Month on my website
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No Means No

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Kids have all the time in the world to keep asking you something even when you’ve already said NO. When I’m busy or tired, I often have far less resources -time, energy, patience, diligence- than my kids, so they’ve figured out that pestering can sometimes work. When they really want something, their enthusiasm and excitement for immediate gratification can eclipse my voice. So, saying NO and meaning it is a message I am always working on with my kids. Adding in a firm NO in American Sign Language gives my verbal answers a big visual punch to let my kids know I mean business.

My kids are 4 years apart, so when my son came along, I already had a very sign-savvy preschooler to help me teach signs to her baby brother. We started right away, and she loved signing our beginner signs like MILK and BATH and ALL DONE. My son is now 8, and the ASL signs I find myself using with him and his sister are more command-oriented since they are fully functioning people in the world: STOP, YES, NO, WAIT, NO, PLEASE, THANK YOU, NO… (did I already mention NO?).

No means No.

The other day after school at the playground, I noticed my son, Ian, and his friend were having a wild wood chip fight, scooping up piles of wood chips from the ground and throwing them at each other. They were smiling and giggling and having a blast, and neither boy seemed to consider what I saw to be massively dangerous, but I knew their fun could change quickly and I called his name. He was too far away for me to yell out a full command, so I just signed NO when he looked at me. He knew we already had a strict rule about not throwing wood chips but had forgotten in that moment of fun.

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Of course, right then as Ian looked to face me, his friend tossed a huge bunch of wood chips right at him, and my son quickly bent down for ammunition to retaliate. I called his name again and signed NO once more as he held an armful of wood chips, ready to fly. My face meant business and he saw that. My hand was also speaking loud and clear, backing up my voice and my face. So he dropped the pile of wood chips and stepped away, but I could tell he was very annoyed at losing not one but two wood chip battles that day -with me and his friend.

It all ended there and I didn’t need to explain myself or talk to him. I signed GO PLAY, and he ran off with his pal to the monkey bars. I felt relieved that I could shut down the wood chip fight without embarrassing either of us, or his friend, with just a call of his name and one ASL sign.

No means no (unless you say yes).

 

See more Signing Babies Sign of the Month
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Meyer Lemon Pancakes and Homemade Lemon Syrup

My husband brought home a bag of gorgeous, organic Meyer LEMONS, which are in season now (January-March). Meyer lemons are thought to be a cross between lemons and mandarin oranges, so you can imagine they have a sweetness to them in addition to the usual tang you find in lemons. Meyer lemons are also juicier, more tender and have a thinner peel than regular lemons. Swooning!
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These pancakes were INCREDIBLE -fluffy, a little sweet but tangy from the lemons, they cooked like a dream. I did some research to find recipes to use up these beauties and decided breakfast was the way to start: Lemon Pancakes amped up with the tangy sweetness of the Meyer lemons.
BUT WAIT!
Before I started on the pancakes, I made some Homemade Lemon Syrup from this recipe using freshly-squeezed Meyer Lemon juice. This quick and easy homemade syrup is full on lemony-goodness that makes a perfect complement to the lemon pancakes. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re dating now.

Homemade Lemon Syrup

1 1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup brown sugar
2/3 cup water
peel of 1 lemon, in large chunks

Place sugars and water in a medium saucepan. Heat over med-high heat, stirring occasionally. Add lemon peels and bring to a boil. Let boil for 2-3 minutes for thin syrup, 4-5 minutes for thicker syrup.
Recipe adapted from jensfavoritecookies blog
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Lemon Pancakes

1 cup all purpose flour
2/3 cup icing sugar (or 1/3 cup granulated sugar)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt

3/4 cup plain yogurt or sour cream
1/3 cup milk
zest of 2 lemons
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
3 Tbs butter, melted
1 egg
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
In another bowl mix together the remaining ingredients. Pour this wet mixture into the dry and stir quickly, only until just blended. The batter will be thick and bubbly. Pour about 1/4 cup of batter for each pancake onto a preheated hot griddle. Cook until bubbles come up and other side is golden brown. Flip over and cook for 1 more minute.

Serve with Lemon Syrup (above).

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Recipe adapted from “The Joy of Cooking”

YUM!

Here’s how to sign LEMON in American Sign Language.
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What do you do when life brings you LEMONS?