I took an inventory of the cottage last night and made a list of items I needed at the bricolage, or do it yourself store. After lunch today in Eymet we drove over to the Bricomarché in St. Isaac Pardoux where I wanted some batteries, a new shower head and a lightbulb for one of the kitchen fixtures. I also wanted a draft stopper to quell the cold breeze coming in under the front door.
I thought to myself that I would have no idea what to ask for in French if I could not find the draft stopper. I looked up weather stripping on my phone and came up with "temps décapage," but I doubted that would get me to the soft, squishy thing you put on the floor in front of the door. We circled the big store a couple of times not seeing anything resembling what I was hoping to find. Then finally I saw them hanging up near the holiday decorations and the wintry things. Carolyn pulled one down from its hook and I stood there--too short to read the label above the hook.
"Waddaya call that thing anyway" I asked Carolyn, who stood on her tip toes to read it to me.
"Um, it's b-o-u-d-i-n de porte," she reported.
"That's a door sausage," I snorted.
We both got into one of those inexplicable giggle fits where you can't talk amid the waves of ridiculous laughter that just overwhelm you. We walked another couple of laps around the store to compose ourselves and also picked up a pretty mum to put among my potted plants outside.
Looks like a gorgeous day but maybe a little cool -- the gloves are a dead giveaway! I love "door sausage," it's a perfect description of a handy tool. I'm wondering if you speak French? Sounds like you do. How about Italian? Please continue to post . . . I'm enjoying France vicariously through your blog!
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