Arts and Culture, Eating Disorders


Of course now I’m different
For nothing stays the same
Not even you, my dear friend
But changes bring no shame

For are we not improved?
By sands of time, refined
Polished by the fires of fear
Like rubies, now we shine

Our daily tribulations
Dull aches of suffering
So sharpen our resilience
To face what tomorrow brings

And crises flung our way
Each battle that we waged
We’ve scaled canyons of grief
Surmounted with great courage

Look back not at yesterday
And wonder what may be
No more are you the same you
Nor I, the same old me

Focus instead of what’s ahead
The journey’s not yet done
But knowing that we’ll make it
That’s half the battle won

So embrace change, fear it not
It’s the only certainty we’ve got


Recovering with Love, Not with Threats

They were walking along the riverside after an indulgent family lunch, followed swiftly by an afternoon tea of several cakes, and the children were getting restless. First, the Little Boy amused himself with collecting pebbles, and when his sister the Little Girl followed suit, it quickly escalated into stones, and eventually rocks. Pretty soon, their hands were full.

As the adults stopped to chat with some acquaintances who were out for their Sunday walk too, the Ninja Turtle continued with the children, being equally impatient and disinterested in small talk. Occasionally, the kids would stop to throw some stones into the river, with the Turtle charged with the duty of counting “one, two, three, go!” before their launched their ammunition, and the arbiter of who threw the farthest, or made the biggest splash.

It was the Little Boy who posed the question.

“Are you a child, or an adult?”

It caught the Ninja Turtle by surprise, to say the least. She asked him to repeat the question.

“Are you a child, or an adult?”

The Ninja Turtle stopped walking, crouched down to the Little Boy’s level, and faced him. Little Boy was thrilled to have the Turtle’s full attention by this stage.

“Why do you ask? Do you mean I speak like a child, or act like a child, or look like a child?” the Turtle queried. In the back of her mind, she was beginning to feel a wave of fuzzy panic growing. She had no desire to discuss eating disorders with such innocent young minds.

The Little Boy nodded. Vehemently. “Why are you like that?” he demanded with childish simplicity. “Are you a child?”

The Ninja Turtle looked at his sister, the Little Girl, who was older than Little Boy by four years, and possibly had memories of the Turtle from another time. The Turtle hoped she could answer Little Boy’s question without resorting to lies, but without having to go into details of the truth either.

“Well, what do YOU think? Am I a child, or an adult?” asked the Ninja Turtle of the Little Girl.

The Little Girl, precocious for an eight-year-old, highly perceptive but also reserved, didn’t hesitate with her response.

“Of course she’s not a child, it’s obvious,” she admonished her brother. But just as quickly, she looked at the Ninja Turtle for confirmation. In the Little Girl’s eyes the Ninja Turtle saw certainty, but also great confusion.

“Then why are you like that?” persisted the Little Boy.

The Little Girl clearly wanted an answer too, but had been too shy or frightened to ask before. With her younger brother opening the can of worms, she felt emboldened to ask the same question which had been politely silenced in her mind so far.

The Turtle turned to address the Little Girl. “Do you remember when your brother was really little, how I used to be?” Little Girl nodded.

“Well, Little Boy, I’m very sick at the moment so I am the way I am for now. But to answer your question, unfortunately, I’m not a child. Your sister is right, I am an adult, just like your Mommy. And I used to look like your Mommy. When I am no longer sick, when I am healthy and strong again, I will look like Mommy once more, just as your sister remembers. Will that be OK with you?”

The Little Boy and Little Girl seemed satisfied with the answer.

“I hope you get better in two weeks,” Little Boy declared.

The Ninja Turtle smiled at his innocence. “I hope so too.” Turning to the Little Girl, she asked “what do you think?”

The Little Girl looked at the Turtle and broke into a radiant smile.

“Let’s stop over there to throw some rocks into the river. This time, you can throw with us, and you can throw one of mine if you want to.

And with that, they ran ahead excitedly, shouting for the Ninja Turtle to hurry.



Collecting words and phrases

While most French today no longer speak in patois (local dialects) like they used to, each region and city have several words, figures of speech or expressions that reflect their unique identities.

Just like their culinary diversity from the North to the South is distinct, their speech is equally flavourful from the East to the West. And these expressions can be picked up in the most bizarre places.

For instance, the Turtle first came across the phrase ça tombe comme à Gravelotte from Grandma Lapin in the Northeast of France. It referred apparently, to the great casualties of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870 but today it means heavy rain. Elsewhere the French say c’est la fête des grenouilles (the festival of frogs).

Also while most people may know the polite answer to thank you is de rien, the Turtle recalls in a sports shop in Nice, the salesboy responding with “il n’y a pas de quoi”.

Confused, she asked him what exactly of what was there nothing of? The phrase, translated literally, amounts to something like: there is no what, which frankly, sounded more like a question to a query rather than a response to her merci beaucoup.

Once again she has found a new expression, this time in Nantes. Despite having been placed under quarantine in hospital for the entire duration of this trip (she was hospitalised before she even got to start having fun), she’s already sampled some local delights, if only linguistic and not gastronomic.

Given her small size she’s already been described as a brindille (twig) by Lapin and a petite bichette (little foal) by her favourite merchant at the farmers market in Lyon, but here in Nantes in the hospital she has been nicknamed petit gabarit (small template).

A template for what? she enquired. No one seems to have the answer. So she hit up Google which brought up no satisfying explanations either, but when she did a reverse search for a gros gabarit she got this:

Go figure.

Arts and Culture

This Week’s Round-Up

Since it’s been a long time since this blog has received a Friday Fun blog post, the Ninja Turtle aims to correct this flaw. It’s 6pm Friday evening, so this may or may not be done with the aid of some vino…

What we’re drinking:

Really good Italian wine we bought at the Venetian Carnavale earlier this year. It's light on tannins and fruity, making it very easy to drink on its own.

Really good Italian wine we bought at the Venetian Carnavale earlier this year. It’s light on tannins and fruity, making it very easy to drink on its own.

What we’re listening to:

Blast from the past, is it not?

What we’re reading:

The Ninja Turtle is reading: An analysis of historical trends in violence and the evolution of human nature.

The Ninja Turtle is reading: An analysis of historical trends in violence and the evolution of human nature.

GodzillaPin is reading: A novel proving the argument in Ninja Turtle's book (it's about medieval torture and the Church).

GodzillaPin is reading: A novel proving the argument in Ninja Turtle’s book (it’s about medieval torture and the Church).

What are you drinking/reading/listening to at the moment? Would you recommend it? What’s on the cards for the weekend?