French Kissing

I overheard this snippet of conversation from my daughter. "……so Hugo said he's going to kiss Marie with his tongue but not his mouth". WTF! She's only 9! All kinds of alarms are going off in my head, but at the same time it made me laugh my butt off.
Then I started to think about French Kissing. Apparently the term dates back as far as 1730. So here we have a woman who gets kissed by a Frenchman who slips in a little tongue action. The young lady thinks to herself "so this is how the French kiss!" She immediately tells all her friends, et voila! French Kissing is born.
I tried to imagine it with other nationalities but none convey the same excitement. Except Spain maybe. Spanish Kissing. Nope, I must be thinking of Spanish Fly. How about Swedish kissing, German kissing, Japanese kissing, Sri Lankan kissing? No, no, et non! It only works with French. But back to our demoiselle. How was she being kissed before, the poor thing? And did that kiss lead her down a path of debauchery and decadence? I hope so.
There is something that intrigues me, though. How is it that the French were nominated as masters in the art of Kama Sutra tongue manoeuvres when they can't even manage the "th" sound? "Ze cat is out of zee bag". See what I mean?
I'm married to a Frenchman. A vrai Parisien. I know the answer but I never kiss and tell.

Groundhog Day

My birthday is on Groundhog Day and like those fat furry little creatures, I disappear to hibernate for the winter. This year I certainly must have seen my shadow for I remained in my burrow for well past the traditional 6 extra weeks. I regretfully spent that time wallowing in self-pity for numerous reasons but in the end none of them are really worth it. My life could be much worse than I sometimes imagine it to be, so shame on me for complaining.
Spring is taking her time this year in France. Mid-April and I've yet to hear a cuckoo in the forest. For me, the arrival of the cuckoos is the official start of spring. However, I can't listen to them without remembering  the first time I ever heard one , I thought my neighbors had a malfunctioning clock that went off about 18 times several times an hour.
But even though Spring and the cuckoos are late, flowers are everywhere and the forest is turning greener every day. I was actually able to see this at very close range on Easter Sunday, having been face down on the ground after my horse, ahem, dislodged me from the saddle. I'm spending the next two weeks in a full leg brace while the ligaments in my knee mend. Merde!
I hobbled around the garden today seeing which plants survived the harsh winter and long frost.