• une maison – a house
• un terrain – a piece of land
• un appartement – a condo or apartment. I think un condominium is only used in Canada.

You can also buy un immeule, which is a building, often containing multiple units. (Un meuble, incidentally, is a piece of furniture.)

Most of these words are also associated with this one: rêver. I’ll let you figure out what that one means.

• miauler – to meow
• ronronner – to purr
• griffer – to scratch, which my cat Bella does to most surfaces
• baver – to drool, which Bella does sometimes in her sleep

Bella sleeping. Image credit: E. Naomi Twery.

• une jument – a mare
• un étalon – a stallion
• un hongre – a gelding

And a few related words that might be of interest:

• un âne/une ânesse – a donkey
• un mulet/une mule – a mule, which is technically the offspring of a male donkey and a female horse
• un bardot/une bardine – the offspring of a male horse and a female donkey, called a hinny in English

I learned about un bardot, un étalon,, and une jument from an episode of a French radio show called Vos Animaux, which I listen to via podcast. It’s one I happen to like a lot.

• Work
• Helping to organize my French conversation group
• House hunting
• Going to Paris
• Moving
• Fixing things around the house (and the resulting stress)
• Writing fiction again

Another part of why I haven’t been writing as much is that I’ve been posting more things, mostly links to cool news articles, on twitter and facebook. These two short-form social media do seem ideal for sharing quick “this is cool” links. Still, it sees like it should be possible to maintain both a blog and a presence on short-form social media, if I make the time. There are certainly far busier people out there who manage to.

As part of the effort to blog more, I plan on starting a weekly post on French vocabulary that I’ve encountered through reading, listening to podcasts, and other means. I’ll also continue to post book reviews, and I’ll try to include updates on the writing projects I’m working on.

I’m actually really excited about my writing projects. There are two: one about werewolves, and one that I’ll call the shipping project, although the connection to ships is rather loose. At the moment I have 8,500 words for the first and 15,000 for the second. My primary project is the werewolf one, though, so that’s what you’ll probably hear more about—although most likely in very vague terms. I tend to be a bit secretive about my writing when I’m working on it.

I also find it interesting that “champignon” can refer to any type of fungus. I have to say, listening to French Radio has definitely taught me some interesting new words, often ones that I can’t imagine would come up in a class.

Maple Leaf from Montreal Botanical Garden

I’ve also added two lists of gender endings that I have used to help me figure out common patterns of gender. The first list is from about.com, the other is hosted here. There’s a good bit of overlap between the two, but also enough differences to make it worth noting both sites.

And below is a gratuitous picture of the flags of Montreal and Canada from my last trip.

While there is a french word ballade (feminine) which means ballad, balade (also feminine) means a walk or a ride, and balader means to go for a walk or ride or, in its transitive sense, to take someone or something for a walk or ride.

Adding to my confusion was the fact that the French word for podcast, in addition to podcast (probably masculine), is baladodiffusion. I’m guessing baladodiffusion is feminine since diffusion is feminine, but I could be wrong. Baladodiffusion is also sometimes abbreviated as balado, and an iPod or walkman is a baladeur (masculine) (but walkman [masculine] is also used).

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
Like the other books in Creasy’s Edible Garden series, this is a combination cookbook and gardening book. I think of this as a good way to whet one’s appetite, but it’s not a comprehensive reference—except perhaps on how to grow blanched vegetables like Belgian endive and white asparagus. After reading her instructions, I’ve decided that blanching in the gardening sense is not something I plan on trying anytime in the near future. Reading this book did get me interested in learning more about potagers, however, which strike me as having the potential to be both remarkably decorative and appetizing.

The varieties highlighted include French ones and American varieties that are similar to French types. I found at least a few of the recipes to be somewhat interesting, though, and will probably try making some. The braised endives and cherville buttered carrots come to mind. Most of the recipes are fairly simple and suitable for novice cooks. If you’re looking for more elaborate dishes, you’re better off going with a real cookbook.

The resource list is one of the best parts, in my opinion, since finding less common French varieties can be difficult. Likewise, I’ll be looking into many of the volumes she mentions in her bibliography. I also have to say that the photography is wonderful, and it’s worth at least flipping through just for the pictures.

I’ve decided that I want to read the other books in this series, but I know that I’ll be sifting for nuggets rather than considering them regular references.

Book source: Montgomery County, PA, Public Library System

View all my reviews.

This piece of incredibly useful information was gleaned from the August 20, 2008, edition of Les Paris Sont Ouvert on RFI.

I’ve always wanted an online resource that would tell me how to pronounce the more difficult French words I encounter. Finally, I found this Text-to-Speech utility that features both Metropolitan and Canadian French pronunciations, as well as American, British and Indian English, German, and Latin American Spanish.

And as long as we’re talking about Indian English, I usually find many of its particularities to be rather annoying (mostly because the cause confusion), but I love the word eggatarian. For French variations, I love the Swiss and Belgian septante and nonante and the Swiss huitante, as well as the Canadian clavarder.