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If the merde fits

The 6/8iem mayor's office is cloistered by trees, a verdant park and sculptures. It's one of my favourite places. Finally, this Sunday I decide to try their free Gym Suédoise class. Even though everything hurts today, it was worth it.

Now, in this park, at one of the little corners is a little library that you would miss if you blinked. And on this particular Sunday, they had books in a box for the taking. Free books?

Angels are singing Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia!

To me, books are bliss. They were my refuge as a child and mes amis ever since.

Along with a few other folks, I browsed and found a French collection of Sherlock Holmes and an English book titled Dante something. I asked the librarian if she had any books for those learning to read French.


So, I go inside and there are a million books at the high school level, comic books and so many more that are perfect for improving French reading.

There are a million books here for improving French reading, I say to her.

Oui mais zee grammar and syntax are zee same as zee more complicated books.

WTF? Of course they are. The language doesn't change, the difficulty does.

I gritted my teeth and ignored her and went back out to the box of books. She places new ones in.

I pick one of them up.

That's too hard for you, she says.

Ok. Officially worst librarian in the world.

So I say in perfect French. You have a person here trying to improve their French and you do nothing but dissuade them. And you are a librarian! So just give me some motivation here, OK?

She smiles like I passed some test. Like she now deemed me suited to read French.


I turned to the lady beside me and said, They want you to learn their language and then tell you it's too hard to learn! She laughed.

And today, in another pleasant French moment, I was walking Charlie and he decided to pooh on the far end of the sidewalk in front of an indoor-only café. The lady at the counter was shouting Non! Non! Non!

I picked up his pooh, as per usual.

I then asked the lady, What is that you want?

She says, Your dog can pooh but not around there.

I see. He can pooh closer to the other cafés. Hmmmm.

Then I wondered, who owns the sidewalk?

Did she have a point?

I checked. And she does not.

The sidewalk is communal, for taxpayers, for everyone.

Even pooping dogs.

I believe in picking up my dog's merde (unlike many French) and I try my best to get him to move past schools, hospitals, churches etc. But sometimes, he just has to go, and I don't have time to move him. I've since learned that I should 'curb' my dog and I will do my best to do that from now on.

I suppose if she had had been just a teeny bit nicer instead of screeching, I might have tried to move him up a bit, mid-pooh.

Though, I doubt my poor little Charlie could have held it till we reached the librarian.