How I learned the meaning of a French word: Bonheur, a guest post by Shannon Grochowski
A jar of lavender sits on my shop desk next to my well-used cookbooks. When I ache for France, I open it and take a whiff. Instantly, the heady aroma transports me to a place where I learned the meaning of a French word: Bonheur.
I began encountering Bonheur, which translates to happiness, a few months after a feisty Frenchman requested my hand in marriage. After the proposal, my intended and I took an obligatory flight from Montana to Paris, to get acquainted with his maman and papa. As my monsieur ushered me through the Charles de Gaulle airport, I was without conviction they would approve of me. I didn't speak a lick of French. I was American. And a divorcée. Claude, my husband's ever-so-elegant Parisian mother stood out at the airpor…
