Mysterious Black Cab

I was walking on the High Street last week when I saw a unusual sight: a bona fide black cab going up the street. Now, there are plenty of taxis here, but you usually see black cabs in London, and even there, you don't see as many as you used to. I had seen them in other cities, but as far as I can remember never in our town. I always loved black cabs since I first saw them for the first time as a child, back in the late eighties, I thought they looked like the quintessential English vehicle. They are taxis with a certain style. The driver didn't seem to know our town one bit, he had his mobile in his hands giving descriptions of what he saw. I guess he probably dropped a client picked in London and he was trying to find the quickest way back to the city. I wonder what errand brought him here and who was the client who paid the expensive fare. Because London is fairly close, but not that close, especially by car. And this begs another question: why pay a black cab instead of, well, anything else?

La Saint-Jean à Londres

Petite annonce pour les Québécois expatriés en Angleterre comme je le suis: la Délégation générale du Québec à Londres organise une célébration de la Fête nationale pour le 20 juin. J'y serai et je vous encourage à y aller.

Crunch Time on the Train

 I love train travels, as you know. I always look up to them. One of the many reasons why is that you can indulge yourself with nice food and drink without feeling too guilty. You know, because you are travelling, you need to eat when you can, and eat what you can find. And there is the whole ritual: you buy lunch at a connecting train station, you bring it with you in the train, you eat it while watching the window. One of my favourite go-to places when I travel by train is Upper Crust. I don't think I ever ate a baguette from there unless I was on the move. I had an Upper Crust baguette on our last railway journey, washed down with a Coke. Pure bliss.

Pourquoi je n'aime pas le football/soccer

Vous savez que je n'aime pas le football/soccer. Parce que je trouve que c'est un sport plate, un sport qui parfois et un peu trop souvent en est un de petites brutes et de bullies, pour pleins d'autres raisons, mais surtout je trouve ça plate. Mais il y a aussi ça: la FIFA est une organisation trop gourmande et un peu escroc. Lire cette chronique de Patrick Lagacé datant d'avril pour vous en convaincre, de toutes les exigences demandées aux gouvernements pour permettre aux villes de recevoir le Mondial. Voir aussi ce reportage de Rad Can. C'est assez damnant. Comme le disait le regretté maire l'Allier, c'est socialiser les dépenses pour privatiser les profits. Je suis vraiment content, je dirais même soulagé, que Montréal ne reçoive pas d'équipes lors de la Coupe du Monde 2026.

The Entertainer (Ragtime)

I rewatched The Sting recently. I have a few observations about it. Okay, mainly two. One, what a great movie, I never get bored watching it. I could start it again now and still be entertained. Two, what a great score the film has! Maybe nowadays it's actually more famous than the movie itself. Composed by Scott Joplin in the early XXth century, arranged by Marvin Hamlisch for the movie, it's just so perfectly atmospheric. So anyway, since I was thinking I share too little music on Vraie Fiction these days and since this is in my head a lot, I am sharing today The Entertainer. My brothers and I used to listen to it endlessly playing poker when we were teenagers. True story. But not with real money.

Nos roses

Vous allez me trouver nono, mais je me suis rendu compte il y a quelques jours que nous avions des roses dans notre cour avant. Je croyais qu'elles appartenaient à notre voisine d'à-côté, mais non, ce sont bien nos roses. Il y a quelques années de cela, ma belle-mère avait fait un massacre en règle et méthodique des plantes de notre jardin en avant: trop de mauvaises herbes, trop de plantes qui avaient poussé trop longtemps sans soin. Il ne restait à peu près rien, mais elle a à l'évidence elle a gardé le plant de roses. Tant mieux, car c'est joli.

Autumnal Figure

 These days, it's been way cooler than one would expect this time of year. I don't mind: it feels autumnal and I love autumn. Okay, I sound like a broken record: autumn is my favourite season. So I always keep on display decorations and things that remind me of it. Last year, in late September, I was down and out after getting suddenly unemployed. I rarely if ever do retail therapy, but I did it on that day. I bought this little figure in a local shop. I was actually looking for a present for my wife, saw this, and thought I would buy it for myself, because I was not sure she would enjoy it as much (don't worry, I bought her something else). With its orange cloak and gnomic look, it looks very much autumnal.

Le gâteau aux carottes idéal

Tout d'abord, une triste nouvelle: je ne crois pas qu'on aura une foire au mois de mai, même si on en avait chaque année, sauf lors de la pandémie. J'adorais m'y rendre, c'était vraiment un bel évènement annuel. Enfin bref... J'ai pris cette photo l'an dernier à la foire de mai, justement. J'adore les gâteaux aux carottes. Je ne me rappelle plus du goût, j'imagine qu'il était très bon, mais avouez que pour la présentation, c'est le gâteau aux carottes idéal.

It feels like autumn

We are having a very strange month of May these days: while it started hot, borderline summery, temperatures have suddenly dropped dramatically. So today and from what I can understand the rest of the week, it will be around 15 degrees Celsius, sometimes even lower. I had to put on my warm jumpers today and will do the same tomorrow. If it wasn't for the trees being green and the flowers in bloom, one would believe that we are in autumn. It feels like autumn anyway. I'm glad, as I don't like the heat and I love autumn (as you probably know if you have been following this blog for a while). I am worried things might change soon enough, so I make the best of the here and now.

La Fête des Mères

C'est aujourd'hui la Fête des Mères, enfin ce l'est en Amérique du Nord et ailleurs, pas en Angleterre où je réside. Je l'observe deux fois dans l'année. Mais bon, même si je la célèbre plus en mars, à l'heure anglaise si je puis dire, j'ai quand même pensé à appeler ma mère aujourd'hui, avec petit loup, et lui ai souhaité une joyeuse Fête des Mères. C'est ma bonne action filiale de la journée.

Revisiting Cat's Eye

I blogged last year about the manga series Cat's Eye. More specifically, its anime adaptation, quite popular when I was around ten. It was about three sisters who were also cat burglars, the Cat's Eye(s) of the title, who also owned by day a coffee shop named... Cat's Eye. They were stealing the art works of their long lost father, because they wanted to find him by... stealing his paintings? To complicate matters, one of the girls, the main character, is dating a young police detective determined to capture the mysterious and elusive cat burgling trio. And yes, he doesn't really suspect that his girlfriend is one of them. He is pretty clueless. I was not a big fan, the plot being far too humorous and filled with glaring plot holes. So yes, they made an adaptation which I found on Disney+. So I gave it a watch. It's entertaining enough, but gripping police drama this is not. Even as a caper, you need to seriously suspend your disbelief. Like not notice that the Cats don't wear gloves and accepting that they are impervious to smoke bombs and tear gas, while the police is not. I laughed out loud a few times at how absurd things were. Still, it's entertaining enough and as I grew quite fond of Japanese anime, I will watch it all. Also, I am a sucker for nostalgia, even if I can be critical of a cultural product.

Un écureuil gris

J'ai pris cette p^hoto il y a quelques jours. Un écureuil gris comme il y en a tant d'autres. Hélas, je n'en trouve pas, trouve plus, de roux. Enfant, j'adorais les écureuils, lesquels étaient selon mon souvenir toujours roux. Il y en avait un qui parfois venait sur notre terrain, c'était toujours la grosse affaire que de le voir. L'un de mes petits neveux a une peur bleue des écureuils, parce que l'un d'eux, un gris comme celui-ci bien entendu, a grimpé sur lui lorsqu'il se promenait avec ses parents au Parc urbain à Chicoutimi. J'espère qu'il n'a pas peur de l'écureuil en toutou qu'on lui a acheté.

Fight Write, Round 2

I blog fairly often (and fairly recently) about the book Fight Write, by Carla Hoch. It's a sort of instruction manual for aspiring writers who do thriller, or adventure, or crime fiction, or indeed any genre that requires depiction of fights and violence. It's been great help for my own crime fiction writing. Well, I recently found out that she wrote a second book (sequel?), titled Fight Write, Round Two. Okay, so I have a huge TBR list and just so many shelves, however I think I will buy it, or at least put it on my present list for my next birthday (or maybe Christmas). Section three of this Round Two is about fighting in crime fiction stories, so it's going to be very useful.

Le temps des pissenlits

Ces temps-ci, il y a des pissenlits partout. Sur tous les gazons, sur le bord des rues, dans le voisinage, ailleurs, partout. Et j'avoue que je trouve ça joli. Quand j'étais enfant, je me rappelle que les pissenlits étaient considérés comme des mauvaises herbes. Bien des propriétaires empoisonnaient leur terrain d'herbicides afin de s'en débarrasser. J'avais même un peu appris à les détester, même si j'aimais leur couleur et même si je trouvais absurde de les détruire avec des herbicides. (En plus, on ne pouvait pas marcher sur le terrain une fois l'herbicide dessus, une vraie absurdité). Maintenant, ils ont été réhabilités, parce qu'on sait qu'ils sont très utiles pour la pollinisation. Et puis, comme je l'ai dit, c'est joli, un pissenlit, même si ça a un nom assez vulgaire. Alors quand j'en vois qui sont blancs, je souffle dessus pour qu'ils se répandent.

A herd of deer

 A couple of weeks ago, we went to visit my parents-in-law. The roads we take to get there are surrounded by shrubbery, woodlands and also grazing fields. As we were passing by one of these fields, we saw a herd of deer running through them, jumping over the fences when they needed. They were fast, gracious, and running in total harmony. It only lasted a few seconds, but we were very impressed. We often see deer on the road, sometimes very close to it, sometimes sadly we see a roadside kill. But we never saw a herd before. It really made our day. Since then, Wolfie keeps an eye out for deer, especially when we pass by the grazing fields. I'm not sure if we will be so lucky again, but you never know.

"11 siècles de Normandie"

Ma belle-mère a parfois des contenants cools. Comme cette boîte de biscuits, qui fait un résumé date par date de l'histoire de la Normandie, de sa fondation à nos jours. Avec de jolis dessins aussi. C'est pas mal cool, comme je le disais, on mentionne même les liens entre la Normandie et le Québec (et la ville de Québec). Et les biscuits, me demanderez-vous? Bon, ça fait longtemps que les biscuits originaux ont été mangés. Alors elle l'utilise pour mettre d'autres biscuits et elle montre la boîte pour la visite.

Ye Olde Denim Jacket

My wife has an old, old denim jacket. She seldom wears it anymore: as far as I can tell, only a few days during summertime, when it is warm enough to only need a very light jacket. Of course, only on a dry day, otherwise the jacket is pretty pointless. Anyway, when we got it out again, we discussed about its age. My wife can't remember when she bought it exactly, but she reckon it's not much older than a decade. I, on the other hand, think it dates back from when we started dating, so must be more than twenty years old, at the very least. I remember she was wearing a denim jacket during our first dates and I have a very good memory (I'm not joking, I really have a good memory). Anyway, now I will have to take a look at old pictures to see which one of us is most likely to be correct. Moral of the story: memory is treacherous, but also serious business.

Calenbour celtique (et atroce)

Un calembour atroce commis par mon frère PJ, après qu'il ait vu ce billet. Je paraphrase, parce que je le reproduis de mémoire:

 Question: Au banquet des dieux celtiques, qui a mangé la moelle?

Réponse: Sucellos, parce qu'il a sucé l'os. 

Je sais, je sais, c'est vraiment épouvantable. 

Secret Service

Since the beginning of 2026, or almost, I have been binge watching spy thrillers. It seems to be my new pastime: watch and read spy fiction. And I found one recently in ITV that I wanted to mention here: Secret Service. It's with Gemma Aterton, a former Bond girl who made quite a nice little career since then. She is not my favourite actress, but I like her. She plays Kate Henderson, an MI6 agent in charge of the Russian desk, who finds out that one of the candidates for the position of UK prime minister might be a Russian mole. But she doesn't know which one. It's nothing too original, it has a few plot holes and you need to suspend your disbelief at times, but it's a solid and fairly well written thriller nonetheless. So yes, if you are living in the UK, I suggest you give it a go.

Le nouvel arbre derrière chez nous

Nous avons comme voisins d'en arrière un édifice à bureaux ou, pour être plus exact, le stationnement d'un grand édifice à bureaux. Je crois qu'il n'y a qu'une seule compagnie qui y réside. Enfin bref, l'avantage d'avoir des employés de bureau comme voisins, c'est que c'est tranquille les fins de semaines et le soir. Depuis la pandémie, c'est encore mieux: le stationnement est presque vide à l'année longue. L'ennui avec eux, cependant, c'est que pour raison quelconque ils ont abattu les arbres qui longeaient une partie du stationnement, juste derrière notre jardin. Alors nous étions un peu exposés, ce que je n'aimais pas. Sauf que j'ai remarqué il y a quelques jours ces branches au dessus de notre clôture. Ils en ont planté un nouveau. En espérant qu'il grandisse vite.