This afternoon I stopped by my friend Zoé's house to share some Christmas cheer with offerings that I found chez Ikea last weekend. I picked up some cheap home decor to get into the yuletide spirit that I modeled around her apartment, snowflake candles, Mr and Mrs' Claus napkins and a few bottles of Glögg, Scandinavian vin chaud. Skol! I was introduced to Glögg back I was a young babeling at the annual Christmas parties of my friend Belle's mother who is from Copenhagen. Since as long as I have known Belle which is close to 20 years, her mother has thrown annual Danish Christmas parties that center around this traditional holiday brew. I recently received my Evite for this year's party which once again, I won't be able to attend.
Just as Zoé and I were simmering a toasty pot of Glögg, adding whole cinnamon sticks and slivered almonds and listening to my favorite online Christmas radio station, we heard a commotion outside that temporarily snatched us out of our holiday mood. Only in France, kids...only in France.
Nothing to see here, move along, just another rally in Paris. Only in France would there be a protest in a fairly residential neighborhood on the weekend. Zoé looked out the window, silently acknowledged the protest and went back to stirring the pot of our winter treat. After several years here, I still find protests and grèves fascinating but for the French it's same day, different injustice.
After nestling in on her coach with our warm mugs, Zoé had an important question about Christmas in America. After she finally bounced back from her Halloween shock, she wanted to know if the same slut rules apply for Christmas and I proudly let her know that they absolutely do before showing her this clip! Hey, at least we're consistent.
