A Visit with the French

I had a wonderful visit with my French cousins.  My mom took us all out for pizza.  We talked about the stories told about the people in our family past, building cabins, getting yelled at, the synagogue shooting in Toulouse, Trevon Martin, and how everyone was doing.  They commented that my French was great (I had been fervently practicing with my program), and I even recorded some of their readings of high literature so that I could remember their voices from so far away.  They all have slightly different accents.  They are extremely environmentally conscientious people.  One, a dairy farmer, runs his farm (a co-op with his brother-in-law) entirely off of solar energy subsidized by the government.  Later, we went around taking pictures of American barns, and trucks (another one’s father is a retired truck driver and the American trucks look different). 

It was very warm and affectionate.  They are such clowns!!! Many of those who have passed since I was last there many years ago would always go so far out of their way for us.  I remember my aunt who passed from ovarian cancer, and how after 3 rounds of chemo, she would still cook these wonderful meals when we would visit to share one on one with her in her 30 square foot little kitchen with its oven.  She cooked like a 4-star restaurant chef, and passed her secret recipes on to her only grandson, my cousin.  It was the only thing he wanted from her.  She, a maid in a hospital, would knit sweaters for us to give us presents.  What love!!!

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