Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
I blogged before about the scarecrows my wife and I bought for the garden of our new home. Well, my wife went to Home Bargains yesterday and bought two more. Much bigger and at £0.99 each, instead of £2.50. At less than a quid each, it is truly indeed a bargain. We bought far more exciting/useful things before and have far more to buy, but the scarecrows will be my favourite acquisitions. They are unimportant in themselves and there are no crows to scare or nothing to attract them, but they will give the garden and house a bit of originality. And they look so beautifully autumnal. especially the one you see on the top left, which is my favourite.
That said, the one on the bottom right is not bad either. It has less autumn leafs and more sunflowers, which makes it autumnal enough. He has less fiery red/yellow colours, with a blue apron. I say he, but maybe it's a she, we will need to decide/settle that. We also need to give them names. The first one was named Rusty, the second one Rosie. I think the one with the fiery colours will be easier to name, the one with the blue might get challenging. But anyway, I am curious about your suggestions. Any ideas? I will also give you some news about their new home and ours.
Mes parents ont récemment eu un visiteur importun dans le jardin familial: une mouffette. Ou, pour faire une allitération vulgaire et méchante, un putain de putois.Les mouffettes sont une vraie plaie dans notre coin de pays, de la vermine urbaine et puante. Je n'ai jamais eu la malchance de me faire arroser (touchons du bois), mais j'en connais quelques uns qui ont eu ce malheur, dont l'ex de mon parrain. Ça pue déjà assez comme ça. Mais bref, j'ai toujours eu une certaine crainte des moufettes, pas une peur phobique, mais je ne les aime guère.
Today, my wife spent the afternoon with the Tickler's mother and also spent some time with the Tickler when she came back from school. We are moving to our new home very soon and it will be literally five minutes away from their house. So the Tickler told my wife that she as going to spend "lots of time there" with her friend at our place. They might even show up for the very first day, so I might have to improvise a house warming party for them. even though we will be exhausted, I am looking forward to spend more time with them.
J'ai trouvé ce dessin sur la page facebook de Bach Illustrations. Il a été publié parce que c'est la préparation au déménagement, qui bien entendu se passe le 1er juillet au Québec. Ironiquement, c'est aux alentours de ce jour-là que nous allons déménager également. Alors voilà, nous vivons dans les boîtes depuis un bout de temps. Et cette illustration illustre justement parfaitement l'état des lieux en ce moment et notre état d'esprit: faire des boîtes, ça se termine dans le bordel total et dans l'exaspération la plus exaspérante.
Quick catch-up about our future home sweet home: we are less than a week away from moving now, if everything goes well, touch wood and all that. So that means no more cat smuggling, but lots of packing. If I can keep Domino off the boxes. He uses the empty ones as bed or as snack. In fact, as I am typing this, he is chewing one and I don't have the heart to tell him off. I don't know if our cat is conscious that we are moving out, but he seems ready to be on the move, as you can see on the picture.
I recently blogged about the coming in our quiet little town of a new bookshop. I am really looking forward to it, especially since it is an independent bookshop. I love all bookshops, but independent ones even more so, especially since they are so rare. And it reminded me of another one that I have visited in the not so distant past: the Totnes Bookshop. During our holiday in Devon, we did not visit the place often enough, but I insisted on going there at least once. We did not buy many books, except a few about local folklore (more on that in a future post), it was nevertheless a lovely visit, with a friendly staff of one (the owner?). I even took a picture of its inside (but strangely not its outside). Totnes is a very hippy town with many independent businesses and a relatively small number of big chains. It made sense that the town has its own bookshop. I live in a far less hippy town and contrary to Totnes there are many chains here. A local bookshop will be a welcome change of scenery. More than a business, it is a cultural gathering place for the whole community. I can barely wait.
Bonne nouvelle pour les amateurs de bleuets sauvages et les Bleuets (notez la majuscule: je veux bien entendu parler des Saguenéens comme votre serviteur et des Jeannois): nous nous dirigeons sans doute vers une excellente récolte cette année. J'ai lu cet article dans La Presse qui m'a fait grand plaisir et m'a rassuré, après une récolte de misère l'année dernière. C'est vrai que je n'en profiterai pas. Mais bon, j'ai quand même la fierté rérionale forte, alors c'est une bonne nouvelle en soi que la récolte de bleuets s'annonce abondante.
Hey, how about some rock music for kicks? It seems that I haven't uploaded any rock tune for a long while here. One of my friends shared this performance of We're Not Gonna Take It from Twisted Sistera couple of days ago and it got stuck in my head since then. Any analogy with a recent political event is purely coincidental.
Petite photo prise il y a quelques jours dans une petite ville avoisinante, dans un coin assez huppé, alors que ma femme et moi nous rendions au concert qu'elle allait donner avec l'orchestre local. J'ai trouvé le tableau si charmant que j'ai décidé d'en prendre une photo. Ça ne doit pas être drôle quand la pluie ne cesse de tomber et qu'il y a des risques d'inondations, mais dans le moment où j'ai pris la photo, c'était juste un beau moment. La morale de cette histoire, si morale il y a, c'est que l'Angleterre sait avoir du charme sous la pluie.
This is what I had for lunch today to fight the Sunday blues: a grilled cheese sandwich with Pringles. Unhealthy comfort food at its best/worst. I cannot remember the last time I had made a home made grilled cheese. The English call it toasted cheese or cheese toastie, I call it grilled cheese since I'm a kid. My recipe: mature cheese (or "extra mature cheese" in this case), American mustard and white bread. That's it. I guess I'm not much of a chef. When the Ticklers visit us in our new home, I might prepare them this meal.
Je sais que la Saint-Jean-Baptiste est terminée, mais avec les drames et émotions des derniers jours, j'ai à peine pu la souligner. Et je ne voulais pas attendre un an pour vous présenter la façon dont Café Venosa a souligné sur sa page Facebook. Ça faisait longtemps par ailleurs que je voulais bloguer sur Café Venosa, ma plus heureuse découverte montréalaise de la dernière année. C'est un café végétalien pro-environnement qui a pour pensionnaires et attraction principale... des chats. J'y ai passé des heures et des heures lors de mes derniers séjours. Et enfin bref, ils ont souligné la Fête Nationale avec ce dessin tout simple et vraiment mignon. Et bleu. Un bleu cute. Et il n'est jamais trop tard de bleuir Vraie Fiction et de lui donner les couleurs du Québec. Alors voilà, pour la prochaine Saint-Jean, souhaitez bonne fête au Québec avec des chats.
I had this drink in one of the pubs of York, which one exactly I cannot remember. It came free with the meal. You can maybe recognize that it is a sort of Martini, although it does not really have the colour of one. In fact, its tropical and summery colours makes it look far more sickening than a traditional Martini would. It is a Porn Star Martini and it tastes as tacky as it looks as it sounds. And it comes with a shot of... Champagne or Prosecco (there it was Prosecco), in case it was not decadent enough. When I was a younger man, I tried to discover cocktails and in the end decided it was not really my thing. When I tried this one, it just confirmed my thought. But it looks very summery, so I thought I'd upload the picture here and bring you a bit of... A bit of tropical sickening cocktail in your day?
Bonne Saint-Jean-Baptiste/Fête Nationale à tous mes compatriotes québécois, ceux au Québec et les expatriés comme moi ausssi! C'est un 24 juin assez particulier ici, avec ses lendemains référendaires qui ont des airs de déjà vu pour moi, même si on me répète que ce n'est pas la même chose, etc. Tout de même, c'est une drôle de coïncidence. En regardant aujourd'hui les Union Jacks flotter sur une Grande Bretagne qui renoue avec son nationalisme, j'ai pensé au Fleurdelisé. Peu importe les résultats du référendum d'hier, je demeure un Québécois expatrié et les joies et les peines des deux camps me semblent bien relatives. Mais bon, le 24 juin, c'est notre Fête Nationale, c'est notre tour... Du moins sur ce blogue. Alors je télécharge encore une fois l'hymne national composé par Gilles Vigneault. Alors voilà, laissons-nous parler d'amour.
We had our last visit of the flat this Monday, where an estate agent came to take measures of the place. Which means, as usual, that we had to smuggle Domino out and decatify the place (decatify is a word of my own invention which means: taking away any sign of feline in the house). So we sent our cat to the Tickler's mother for a few hours... And when my wife brought him home, she was surprised to see this snake in the basket. She felt uneasy, as she thought at first Domino had caught a real one. But when I got home, I saw that it was only a plastic snake. So our naughty cat had nicked a toy from the Tickler, probably when he was on a hunting mood. The Tickler is really into scary things and she has a think for creepy critters. In fact, when I first met her, a few years ago, she was playing with a plush snake. We will give back this one as soon as possible. Its presence was an interesting if brief mystery.
Well, it was yesterday really and I had almost forgotten then, nevertheless, I have now been having my job for six years. It was the anniversary yesterday. It is not easy every day, but it has been so far (touch wood) the longest job I've ever had. I remember how I was feeling six years ago back on full time employment in the private sector: both exhausted and nervous. I must have done something right, since it has been six years. In this day and age of economic uncertainty, without singing my own praise, it is borderline an exploit. I feel very lucky, anyway.
Ce sera la Fête Nationale bientôt, alors on y va avec une chanson québécoise festive, pour nous mettre dans l'esprit de la fête. Enfin, je dis chanson, c'est un bien grand mot: c'est un morceau sans paroles, de Vilain Pingouin. Mais c'est certainement festif. Et ça nous fait renouer avec nos racines celtiques en plus.
Yesterday was the summer solstice, which I blogged about here. It was also the full moon and more precisely a strawberry moon. Which apparently means the full moon of June closest to the solstice. Apparently a strawberry moon meeting the solstice is a unique event that happens rarely, once in a... strawberry moon? But after last year's blue moon, blood moon and other variations of full moons, I wonder if the ordinary full moon is not the rarest occurrence. All the same, like many other suckers, I took pictures of the strawberry moon and decided to upload one, the least bad one, on Vraie Fiction. Because it is still a full moon and I love them.
J'avais déjà mentionné que ma mère s'est mise au tricot. La couverture qu'elle a tricotée en avril, c'était d'ailleurs pour son futur petit-fils. Elle a remis ça plus récemment en lui tricotant cette doudou. Plus petite que la couverture, elle porte bien son nom car elle est paraît-il très douce. Je ne sais pas quand il va pouvoir l'avoir, mais il va être gâté pas rien qu'un peu notre petit loup. J'imagine que nous commençons déjà à faire l'expérience des grands-parents gâteaux. Bon, j'ai eu des grands-parents gâteaux, alors ça n'a rien d'étonnant, mais je me rappelle que mes parents m'ont dit qu'ils ne gâteraient pas mes enfants comme nous on a été gâtés. Et puis là, le petit loup fait travailler ma mère, comme elle le dit elle-même.
Since it is a leap year, or so I have been told, today is the Summer solstice, the longest day of the year. It started and it did not look or feel like summer: this morning the rain was pouring all my way to work. I arrived there and I was soaked. It remained overcast well into the afternoon. But on my way back, it was sunny and it is still sunny now, so when night fall... well, it will be late. When I went out this morning, I was wondering if I'd notice the solstice tonight.
J'ai pris cette photo il y a un an dans un pub local malfamé (enfin quand vient le soir c'est la réputation qu'il a). J'y suis allé de jour (pas fou le gars) une fois que j,avais faim et je me suis bourré de ce gros hot dog cheap avec frites cheap aussi. C'était cheap, mais c'était bon. Il n'y a pas longtemps, je bloguais avoir une envie de hamburger. Comme nous sommes l'été (en principe), je commence à avoir comme une envie de hot dogs cheap sur barbecue. Avec ou sans frites, mais une grosse affaire dégueulasse et dégoulinante. Le hot dog, c'est bon parce que c'est gras. Et c'est pas santé, mais l'été sur barbecue, le hot dog est un incontournable.
I often blog about beers, but I seldom blog about Bath, which is a lovely city. It is also the hometown of Bath Ales, a microbrewery that sells its products all around England, if not in the whole of UK. With the hare on its label (yes, it's an hare, not a rabbit). And if you try one, you will not regret it. Like the Gem, which is one of its main beers. This was tonight's poison and is always a pleasure to drink. Dark as an ale should be, and just bitter enough. On a rainy and/or cool day, this is the perfect drink. Or any day for those of you who, like me, don't like blonde beers much. It is truly, excuse the bad pun, a gem of an ale.
Ce sera la Saint-Jean/Fête Nationale dans moins d'une semaine et ce sera la neuvième ou la dixième (je crois que c'est la dixième) que je passerai à l'étranger. À défaut de célébrer chez nous, je vais donc la célébrer sur Vraie Fiction, qui va être aux couleurs du Québec, en bleu et blanc avec des fleur de lys (oui, je préfère utiliser le y). Photo prise lors d'une Saint-Jean chez mes parents, avec donc notre drapeau québécois, avec en plus le drapeau régional du Saguenay-Lac-Saint-Jean. Juste devant la piscine, le point central de nos St-Jean depuis... Depuis bien longtemps.
As I blogged last Christmas, my brothers have scanned every character sheet and maps of our Dungeons & Dragons campaign and have put them into Dropbox. So we can play in our campaign wherever we are. We have not started doing so just yet, except briefly when we met in Montreal, but I consult sometimes the material and recently it reminded me of the games we played during summertime. During the season, we played our games mostly during rainy days and evenings, for obvious reasons, roleplaying being an activity done mostly inside and in basemen. Although we did, sometimes and to my parents chagrin, played on a sunny day. if autumn and winter are the two seasons I consider best for an atmospheric game of D&Dr, the Summer holidays gave us plenty of time to play. If it was not the most fertile time for inspiration, we've had a few nice moments. Wandering through a forest during summertime, sometimes under a bright sun, other time under the shadows of old trees, make for great encounters and brilliant atmosphere. Like the Dragon Magazine number 110 cover by Kevin Davies, called The Vanquished Cavalier. This image is to me the perfect embodiment of a summertime D&Dr story. Revealed by the light of the season, tragedy and danger.
C'est la Fête des Pères aujourd'hui. Alors en premier lieu, je veux souhaiter bonne Fête des Pères à tous les papas, présents ou en devenir. À ce sujet, c'en est une assez spéciale pour moi, comme l'année prochaine je serai alors père d'un enfant. Et déjà ma femme m'a donné une carte Fête des Pères, de la part de petit loup, avec une photo du foetus. Il paraît que ce genre de cartes est très populaire ces temps-ci. On ne célèbre pas seulement les pères, mais ceux qui sont sur le point de l'être. Je ne suis même pas capable d'être cynique face à ça. Je suis biaisé, je sais, mais en même temps je me prépare mentalement à être père alors ça m'a fait chaud au coeur de recevoir la carte.
We often think of horror as an autumnal genre, what with Halloween happening well into that season and night starting earlier and being longer. But horror can also be a summery genre. I start longing for Halloween the moment it is over, but it is truly during summertime that I start thinking about it and getting into a mood to read scary stories. So anyway, there was a funfair at the regatta and among its attractions there was this fun house named "Hotel Terror." One of those "haunted" buildings full of monsters and ghosts. I remember going to something like that in La Ronde in Montreal as a child. I loved it. When summer days were cooler or rainy, the experience there inspired many make believe games set in haunted houses and castles. I guess I was slowly preparing for the Halloween season. Later on in life, rainy summer days and summer evenings were spent playing Call of Cthulhu. So long story, short, summer is also a season for horror and Hotel Terror reminded me of it.
Autre signe de l'été: mon père a cuisiné cette paella hier. Avec pleins de moules. Il fait pas mal plus estival au Québec qu'ici en ce moment. J'ai déjà mangé des paellas, mais jamais la paella de mon père, parce que c'est un met qu'il a découvert relativement récemment, longtemps après que j,aie quitté le nid familial. Morale de l'histoire: à défaut de pouvoir en manger, je peux au moins vous servir de la food porn sur le blogue.
The weather may not be really summery these days, but there is a sign that summer is most definitely here: we hear the hums of helicopters flying over here very often these days. Yesterday we had a whole lot of them. I know correlation is not causation, but all the same, I am more aware of helicopters when summer is here. I am not alone: my wife told me yesterday that she had heard them far more recently. I suspect they fly up more often around this time of year. I blogged about helicopters and why I identify them with summertime in 2014. If it is a confirmation bias, I stand by it. But I wonder if my readers hear them and see them more in summertime.
Je suis tombé par hasard hier sur Le Milan et le Rossignol, une des fables de La Fontaine, d'où on tient le dicton "ventre affamé n'a pas d'oreille". Ça m'a étonné qu'il y avait donc dans les fables de la Fontaine la présence du milan, qui abonde ici. Dans la fable d'Ésope et dans d'autres versions, c'est un épervier qui remplace le milan et la morale de l'histoire change pour en somme "un tiens vaut mieux que deux tu l'auras." Comme celui que vous voyez sur la photo. Vous pouvez lire certaines variantes de la fable sur ce lien. J'aime bien lire des fables de temps à autre, celle-ci fut une heureuse découverte. À cause du milan royal qui est une rareté dans les fables (deux fables de La Fontaine en parlent, incluant Le Milan et le Rossignol). Aussi parce que j'aime bien le fatalisme des deux morales.
Here is a bit of local good news I got from my wife today: there will be a new bookshop in town. This is in fact great news. We have second hand charity bookshops and a WH Smith, which is basically a glorified stationary shop. But now it is official, we will have a real bookshop with apparently a real selection of books. Better even, it will almost be an independent shop. I say almost as it is part of a chain. So it is set to open a branch here. But it does label itself as "independent booksellers." From what I read, it will be of decent size and will keep the franchise aspect discreet, as it will not be called by the chain's name but by something else. I have been wanting a proper bookshop here for ages, I had stopped hoping for one as the businesses opening were all overpriced boutiques. I will not complain if it is part of such a small chain. It will only be ready in a couple of weeks, but I cannot wait to start book hunting in this future new local bookshop.
Je ne sais pas pourquoi, peut-être parce que l'année scolaire achève, mais j'ai en tête Les quatre bacheliers de Georges Brassens. Qui est tirée d'un fait vécu. C'est une chanson autobiographique. Je n'ai pas eu une adolescence aussi dissolue, pas au point de passer en justice, néanmoins je crois que bien des bacheliers peuvent se reconnaître dans cette chanson. Bien des pères aussi.
This is what I saw this morning going to work: a green train. This might sound silly, but usually the train neither dark nor light blue on top and egg yolk yellow on the bottom and looks quite banal and while not ugly not really pretty either train. But this was forest green and it gave the wagons a certain elegance. The inside was nicer too: it had more tables and seemed (it might have been a mere impression) more spacious.
This reminded me of some of the trains of old we saw at the National Railway Museum in York. Trains that were sleek, elegant, comfortable and with true character. Okay, so the green train was not nearly as nice as the ones at the museum, but it was far nicer than the usual one. I was happily surprised to see it again on the journey back. It might be a one off, but you never know, it might show up again.
Photo prise au York Castle Museum, je la télécharge ici car elle sert mon propos, lequel est d'une banalité affligeante.Tout d'abord, un commentaire de nature historique: les vitrines de magasins en général et de magasins de chaussures en particulier n'ont guère changé depuis disons le XIXe siècle. Et je crois même que certains parmi ces souliers et ces bottes sont des Clarks. N'oublions pas que la compagnie a été fondée en 1825. Or je regarde mes chouclaques en ce moment et je crois qu'elles achèvent. Je passe environ une paire de Clarks par année, c'est le temps de l'année où je me tape une visite chez le cordonnier. Durant mes années à Chicoutimi, de l,enfance à l'âge adulte, sauf pendant certaines parenthèse où je m'achetais des espadrilles, j'allais chez Rodrigue le Bottier. Ça existe encore, d'ailleurs. Et ses vitrines ressemblaient à ça, en tout cas dans mon souvenir. Mais c'est l'odeur d'une cordonnerie qui me plai^t le plus. Le cuir neuf et lustré, ça sent vraiment bon.
In preparation for my new role as a father and to accompany me on the journey, I am reading The Expectant Dad's Handbook, which my wife bought me for my birthday. I will write more about the book and its useful advises, tonight I want to mention one: apparently, it is good to have plenty of small change for the time in hospital when labour begins, for vending machines and other things. So I have been saving one pound coins since I read this. It may not be the most important part of my preparation to fatherhood, but it has become a nice little ritual and it helps me keep patient while I wait for little Wolfie to be here. And that's right, this will be our son's nickname (or one of his nicknames) on this blog.
Le thème, choisi par... Homéo-Stasie... m'a comme donné du fil à retordre. Qu'est-ce qui crée équilibre et l'harmonie chez moi? Pleins de choses, et trop peu en même temps, alors finalement j'ai opté pour la gent féline. Les chats de la meilleure amie d'enfance de ma femme et de son mari, qui vivent dans le Derbyshire. Caresser un chat, ça donne de l'endorphine. Les chats créent l'harmonie. Quand ils ne sont pas impossibles comme le nôtre, mais c'est une autre histoire. Et pour l'homéostasie des autres, voir les liens suivants:
One cannot seldom evenings as ideal as the one I've had last Sunday. There was a representation of Cosi fan tutte by Mozart in the town's most important park. Not a live one, it was on a big screen and from recorded stage performance dating back from last year, but all the same. It was Mozart, for free, on a gorgeous evening of June, in a beautiful park. And to top it off, they were serving Pimm's. Not for free, it was two pounds a glass, there was a good deal left near the end of the evening, two pounds a pint and one pound a half. But it was for charity, so there was no reason to feel guilty about a few drinks. I missed the beginning of the opera, otherwise I watched the whole thing. It was a pleasure to rediscover Cosi fan tutte, another great subversive collaborative work between Mozart and librettist Lorenzo da Ponte. It is the anti love story. And it was a rediscovery in more than one way for me: one of the characters has the same name as me, but in Italian: Guglielmo. And he is played by a baritone, which is my voice. If I ever go back on stage and sing Mozart, I want to sing Cosi fan tutte. And to end this post, here is one of Guglielmo's arias, Donne mie la fate a tanti, sung by Luca Pisaroni. Okay, so I don't have his voice, especially not after all these years of not working on it, but I think with enough work I could pull a decent performance.
Je sais que ça a l'air de rien, mais ce toutou de Jellycat est notre premier toutou acheté pour notre fils. C'est Bashful Blue Bunny et même si c'était notre premier achat ce n'était pas mon premier choix. Je voulais d'entrée de jeu acheter le dragon, mais ma femme voulait un tit-lapin mignon, alors ça a été le lapin qui a été primé. Depuis, je me demande quel sera le toutou préféré de mon fils. Je compte en acheter quelques autres, pas seulement de Jellycat, en plus des plus vieux toutous qui appartenaient à ma femme (ou à moi) qui seront récupérés par le petit loup. Alors les paris sont ouverts. Reste à savoir si petit loup tient plus de Veggie Carrie ou de moi. Si c'est d'elle, le lapin bleu a de bonnes chances d'être son toutou préféré.
As we are both in the process of buying a house and our landlord of selling the flat where we live. Which means visitors, which also means... hiding Domino. Because we do not have the right to own cats in the flat. I know, I know we should not have had a cat in the first place, but that is what happens when you are cat lovers. We had to smuggle him out and back three times all in all so far. The first two he was out of the house for the whole night, at the Tickler's place actually. The first night, he was an angel. The second night, he was impossible and kept the whole household awake. So difficult in fact that for the third time, which was yesterday, they agreed to take him but only for the day. Thankfully, we had plenty of time to take him out and decatify the place before the visitors arrived. I feel a bit bad about it, but Domino seems to enjoy the change of scenery. When he comes home, he is relaxed and rather affectionate. Well, as affectionate as he can be.
J'ai pris cette photo d'un phoque à Branféré, je l'utilise ici rien que pour accompagner le grand classique de Beau Dommage. C'est la Saint-Jean bientôt, notre Fête Nationale, dans moins de deux semaines, alors autant commencer à se mettre dans un esprit festif. Bon d'accord, ce n'est pas une chanson festive, mais c'est une chanson pour Québécois expatrié. Une chanson incontournable quand la St-Jean s'en vient, dans tous les cas. Ça m'étonne un peu que je ne l'ai pas téléchargée sur le blogue avant, en fait.
I learned that today is a very special anniversary: Clash of the Titans is 35 years old. Now people probably don't know all that much about the original, since there was a remake of it. That is a shame: the remake did not have the special effects and wonderful creatures done by the great Ray Harryhausen. I did not bother seeing the remake yet, although I caught glimpses of it on TV and I'm not planning to watch it any time soon. The original, however, is a childhood favourite of mine. I must have watched it first when I was five or six. It is the movie that started my long love story with Greek mythology. Yes, it is sometimes cheesy and the acting is hammy and/or wooden. But what a casting! What characters in their own right are the monsters of Harryhausen! And with all its flaws, it still understood very well the morally ambivalent nature of Greek gods and heroes. In the movie as in the source material, they are neither completely good nor completely evil. Zeus acts out of selfish reasons, Thetis (brilliant Maggie Smith!) is at worst an indulgent mother, Calibos himself is truly a tragic character. The Kraken does what he does on order, giving punishment according to the gods' desires and Medusa... Well, what else would you do if you were a monster like Medusa, stranded on an island and cursed by the gods? Medusa, by the way, still gives me the creeps to this day. So yes, great stuff. And to celebrate its anniversary, here is its trailer.
Ce n'était pas prévu hier, mais j'ai finalement acheté une nouvelle lotion après-rasage. Yé! C'était à John Lewis. Je suis tombé sur une rangée de lotions et je les ai essayées. L'ennui, c'est qu'avant de trouver la bonne, j'ai dû me mettre sur le visage trois ou quatre parfums différents. Ce qui fait que je sentais alors un tantinet la guidoune. Guidoune sera donc notre mot du jour. Ça veut bien entendu dire prostituée, dans la catégorie cheap. Qui se met du parfum cheap, donc. Pas très reluisant, mais après toir ou quatre parfums différents en succession... C'est ce que ça sent.
This weekend, the town where we live is hosting its annual regatta. It is not an event I like much, as the town gets full of drunken people from all ages. I nicknamed it Sodom and Regatta. Apparently, it has been quieter this year, so far anyway. Apart from some drunkard shouting in the middle of the night on Friday, which woke us up, we had no serious disturbance. When I went out last evening, the crowd of elegant women and men holding bottles of Prosecco and beers was rather thin. Now most of the event is over and the decadent goers (regatters?) are now most likely nursing an epic hangover, so we might go by the river to see the event for a bit.
L'un des nombreux charmes de la ville de York est que c'est une ville fortifiée. Et que donc on peut se promener sur les remparts, d'un coin à l'autre de la ville, pendant toute une journée, voire plus. Et le déplacement est en lui-même une expérience. Les constructions datent d'aussi loin que l'Empire romain, mais ont été développées au Moyen Âge. On mange littéralement avec l'histoire. Et la vue est vraiment belle en plus.
I blogged before about the scarecrows we bought to decorate the garden of our future home. Rusty was the first one, which you saw on the picture of my first post. We named this one Rosie, because of its (or her really) pink trousers. I was not too sure about buying her, but my wife loves pink and she liked Rosie, so there you are. Pink is an atypical colour for a scarecrow to have, Rusty's rusty orange is more traditional for scarecrow fashion, but Rosie is a good farmgirl name that is just as fitting for a scarecrow. I want to buy a few more and create a whole community of them. And I will need some plants and trees for them to guard.
Photo prise dans le Derbyshire, à Chatsworth House. J'étais en train de parcourir mes photos pour en trouver une pour la photo du mois, quand je suis tombé sur celle-ci. J'ai tout de suite identifié Artémis. C'est l'arc qui la rend aussi facilement reconnaissable, étant donné que c'est l'un de ses attributs. Je suis heureux de voir que je me défends encore pas mal en mythologie grecque. Assez pour identifier Artémis d'un seul coup d'oeil.
Can you notice it when you see the picture? Can you? No you cannot, it is very well hidden under the salad and the tomatoes and the red onions and the rest. But it was there again, at last. And by "it" I truly mean "them". The green olives. In the sandwich shop where I buy my Friday's sandwich to start the weekend on the right foot, they hadn't have green olives for ages. And this is what makes the difference, what makes this rather banal chicken mayo sandwich so very tasty.
Ce calembour atroce n'est pas de moi, mais il fallait que je le commette. Je ne sais plus où je l'ai lu la première fois, je me rappelle que c'était une bande dessinée, maisje ne crois pas que c'était la source originale du jeu de mots. Mais bon, j'ai pensé à ça aujourd'hui et ça ne me sortait pas de la tête, alors autant donner des maux aux vôtres en le partageant. La photo a été prise au Musée de l'histoire naturelle. Le cachalot pour moi, c'est Moby Dick, alors j'éprouve pour cette baleine en particulier une affection particulière. Comme c'est le temps des aventures nautiques, j'imagine que je pense aux créatures marines plus souvent.
As my readers know, my wife and I are in the process of moving home. It will be the first house we'll buy. I thought I would write a quick catch-up post about it, because things are running faster these days. We are still in the inspection stage, but the vendor asked for when we would be ready to move in and we can start looking for furniture. The place will need a bit of work, but I think we can really make it our home. When we first visited it with the Ticklers (it seems we do everything with the two girls sometimes), they became really enthusiastic about the place. One of them said: "I have one word to describe this house: epic." Until now, I have no idea why she found it so great. Her mother was talking about good vibes and open plan and so on (she is kind of esoteric and into witchcraft). I just thought it looked spacious and homely. I think the Tickler was just happy we were going to move closer to her (literally less than a five minutes walk). In any case, her epic line deserves to be a great unknown line.
J'imagine qu'il fallait bien que je la télécharge celle-là, alors que je me prépare à devenir père. Classique de Passe-Partout, chantée par Canelle et Pruneau alors que Madame Coucou était enceinte. C'est une chanson qui était mignonne, mais elle ne répondait pas à la question que l'on a tous fini par se poser: qui était le père de Cachou Coucou? Question indiscrète de paternité mise à part, c'est une chanson d'une surprenante authenticité, ma femme et moi pouvons maintenant en témoigner: le petit loup qui s'en vient donne des coups de temps en temps et bouge dans le ventre de sa maman. Les vers ne sont pas aussi brillants que ceux de l'autre chanson que j'ai partagée afin d'annoncer la bonne nouvelle, mais c'est quand même une chanson touchante. D'ailleurs il faudra bien que fasse découvrir Passe-Partout à mon fils, histoire qu'il connaisse son héritage québécois.
I blogged before, twice in fact, about the Action Men used on one of the local clothes shop window for advertisement.Well, they are now gone. I wonder why. Maybe because they were wearing clothes far too warm for the months to come. Maybe because these clothes looked nothing like the clothes sold in the shop. Or maybe they just didn't work as advertisement. A shame, I liked them, they had character, especially the ones with the scar on their cheek. It's the kind of toys I wish I had as a child. I might actually buy some for my son, when he is old enough for Action Men. Or let my brother-in-law buy them as presents, as he loved Action Man when he was a child.
Photo prise dans un pub local en... Octobre! Et je ne crois pas me tromper en disant que c'est sans doute le dernier hamburger haut de gamme que j'ai mangé, sans compter ceux des fast foods et des foires. Avec des frites, de la coleslaw pis toute, c'est pas mal le repas idéal. Et bon, depuis qu'il fait plus chaud, ces temps-ci, il y a des odeurs de barbecue partout, du midi jusqu'au soir lorsqu'on est dehors. Alors j'ai comme une envie de manger des hamburgers. Mais des vrais hamburgers. Pas des hamburgers cheapos d'un fast food. Après les hot dogs et seulement un tantinet moins que les hot dogs, les burgers sont pour moi le repas de l'été.
I took this picture at the National Railway Museum in York, my favourite museum in the world. I don't know if it is the ideal picture for my post, but it is about trains... Anyway, wthey are forecasting thunder storms tomorrow. I love storms, in almost any circumstances and I cannot wait to see and feel a storm. I hope we will have some huge ones. The last storm I truly remember was the one we went through in the train going to... York. Which was the topic of this post. When you are dry and comfortably installed in a spacious train, storms are magnificent spectacles. It was less enjoyable to find our accommodation once arrived at York station and the rain was still pouring down, but all the same the train in the storm was pure bliss. And I surprise myself hoping to be in the train should a storm start tomorrow.
Photo prise à Dartmouth Castle, je la télécharge ce soir car elle sert mon propos. Au château, ils faisaient grand cas de la piraterie pour attirer les touristes, comme je l'ai dit une fois dans un autre billet. Il y avait des démonstrations de tirs de canon et de fusils par des animateurs déguisés en pirate, des faux squelettes défendants de faux trésors, etc. Ça a comme allumé mon imagination. L'été terminait quand nous y sommes allés, mais là l'été commence et pour moi l'été c'est le temps de la piraterie, enfin c'est la saison où j'aimais enfant jouer des aventures de pirates, voir des films de pirates, lire des histoires de pirates, etc. Et ces temps-ci, alors que l'été commence à ressembler à l'été, j'aimerais bien m'y remettre.
Sad news I learned tonight: my wife told me that Sir Peter Shafferdied. At 90, it is not a tragedy, but it is still sad. He is of course the author of Amadeus, the amazing play that was the basis for the no less amazing movie of the same name. Like for many, the film made me discover the genius of Mozart. I watched the movie an innumerable number of times since I was a child, I read the play which I bought in a second hand bookshop in Montreal, I had finally the chance to see it a few months ago on stage. I never get tired of it. It is a fictionalized account of Mozart's life, yet it is a genuine portrait of the artist and of his work. It also vilified his contemporary Antonio Salieri, making him a jealous schemer, then an assassin. Ironically, Shaffer's work saved Salieri from oblivion. He also made him into a fascinating character. I said it before, I will say it again: it is my dream to get back on the stage to play the role of Salieri. I must confess, it is the only play I have ever seen or read of the writer. I will correct this as soon as possible. Until then, this is my homage to a great dramatic author who had a unique way with words. So here is again, as an homage, the trailer of the movie, which is very much like the beginning of the play. RIP to a true maestro.
Nous sommes l'anniversaire du Débarquement de Normandie, le 72e. C'est un anniversaire solennel, je vais pourtant le commémorer ici avec un billet moqueur, voire humoristique. Alors donc, j'ai vu au musée local cette bouteille de vin (vide) qui a date du cinquantième anniversaire. Et... et c'est une bouteille anachronique. un anachronisme vraiment bête qui m'a bien fait rire quand je l'ai vu. Regardez bien la bouteille, l'anachronisme est clair comme le nez au milieu de la figure si vous connaissez un peu l'histoire. C'est vraiment bête. Veuillez donner les réponse dans les commentaires.
Since his accident in January, we have not let Domino out of the house, except to carry him to another house, but more on that another day. So I know our cat feels trapped sometimes and we feel very guilty about it, especially when he meows by the door and show us with these eyes. We don't want to make him feel like a prisoner, but I would rather keep him in than risk one of his nine lives again. So we have spoiled him: we bought him lots of new toys, two scratching blocks with catnip and we keep his stock of treats high. Everything to keep our feline friend entertained. Overall, it works, in fact he is so entertained sometimes that he gets on hunting mode, running after his toys as if they were preys. All the same, when I see him looking looking at the window, I can't help but feel guilty. We might let Domino out a bit, under surveillance, when we move. Until then, we spoil him, maybe more than we should.
Photo prise dans le Devon, entre Totnes et Dartmouth. Elle illustre mon propos, parce que c'est une photo estivale. Je me désespérais du mois de juin depuis son commencement. Parce que pour moi, le premier juin, c'est le début de l'été. Or, d'été, il n'y en avait pas. Ce n'est pas ma saison préférée, surtout si elle s'éternise trop, mais j'aime quand même qu'elle commence et il me faut quelques semaines de beau temps chaud durant l'année. Jusqu'à hier, il n'y en avait pas vraiment. Mais depuis ce matin, il fait à la fois beau et chaud. Alors je crois que l'on peut se permettre d'espérer des températures estivales pour un petit moment.
Today, some friends came for a visit, with their two children. One is a boy of five years old, who has known my wife and I since he was born, the younger is a girl who just turned two. The girl does not know us as well, obviously. But I was really happy because today she really bonded with me. We went to a picnic to the park and at some point, when she saw her big brother running around the grass playing tag with me, she just joined in, not shy like she used to be sometimes, but all happy and smiling like I was an uncle. She still cannot pronounce my name, she calls me "man", but she now also calls for "man": on the playground she asked for me to help her get on the swings and slides, but also when she was having a tantrum, to calm her down. Which was a really sweet moment. Anyway, as I am on my way to become a dad, I welcomed this day of practicing the role. Even though I know it is only the easy parts I had to do today: being funny and entertaining. Still, it's good practice.
C'est une expression que je tiens de ma mère et qui commence à s'appliquer à ma vie, petit à petit. Comme vous le savez sans doute, ma femme et moi allons bientôt (quoiqu'à une date encore indéterminée) déménager. Ce sera la première fois en neuf ans qu'on déménage et la première fois qu'on achète une maison. Alors suivant les conseils de mes lecteurs, j'ai déjà commencé à faire mes boîtes. Jusqu'ici, ça va, je ne suis pas incommodé. En fait, c'est même le contraire: en rangeant bien des choses, surtout des bouquins, des DVDs et des vêtements, je sens que l'espace dans lequel on vit est un peu plus spacieux et je suis moins stressé quant au moment où on devra déplacer tout ça. Il me reste encore beaucoup à ranger et encore plus de boîtes à acheter, mais je sens moins la pression du déménagement qu'il y a neuf ans. Pour une fois, vivre dans les boîtes n'est pas un purgatoire. Enfin, pour le moment.
I have just learned it from a mailer I received sent from an art gallery: Fabian Perez has released a new collection. I love his work, because the world his characters live in and the stories the paintings seem to be narrating seem to be the one of hardboiled crime fiction. The characters themselves are pure archetypes, many of them (but not exclusively) femmes fatales, like this Saba with glass of red. Anyway, while there are no exhibitions with the maestro showing up (and that might be for the best, I don't want to risk being coerced into buying a painting), I think if I can find time I will try to go to the art gallery and take a look at this new collection.
Encore une fois, j'ai chipé sans honte aucune cette photo de la page Facebook de la Bouquinerie du Plateau. elle vient avec une annonce: c'est la foire commerciale sur l'Avenue Mont-Royal, en d'autres mots une vente de trottoir. Pour faire un nouveau calembour atroce et d'un goût douteux, je dirais que l'Avenue fait le trottoir. Cela dit, si vous êtes dans le coin, elle est jolie l'Avenue Mont-Royal quand les commerces sont sur le trottoir. Je ne crois pas y avoir acheté quoi que ce soit, même pas un livre à la Bouquinerie, mais c'est quand même plaisant. Alors voilà, c'est ma plogue, la foire est là jusqu'à demain inclusivement.
I blogged before about one beer from Cotleigh Brewery. Their Tawny Owl Bitter is not the only product I tried from them. I also bought their Barn Owl, which of course shares its name with the bird of the same name and is incidentally one of my favourite owls. Well, I love all owls, but this particular owl is at the basis of many ghost stories (read my posts about it here and here), so it has a special place in my heart. I do not judge a beer by its label, but this one deserves both its name and the bird of prey associated to it. Of the two Cotleigh beers I had, this one might actually be my favourite, although I would need to confirm it with further tastings. But Barn Owl is a darker ale and I am partial to dark ales.
J'ai déjà blogué à quelques reprises sur ce figuier. Il se trouve dans un jardin bordant l'un de mes coins préféré de la petite ville où j'habite, dans une rue étroite sur le chemin que je prends pour aller à la bibliothèque. Je n'y vais plus assez souvent d'ailleurs, ce qui fait que je ne vois plus le figuier. En fait, ce que je vois de lui, ce sont ses branches, qui passent au dessus du mur pour s'étendre sur la rue comme un toit naturel. Il est pas beau rien qu'un peu. Il y a quelques jours, j'ai décidé que je passerais par là sur le chemin du retour, rien que pour voir comment il était. Personne n'a décidé de lui couper les branches qui sont dans l'espace public, je respire. Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais je le trouve magnifique.
As I am typing this, I am watching the brand new series of one of my favourite TV programs in the UK: BBC's Springwatch. It comes a bit late in the year really, but all the same, it's my favourite program of the season. There's nothing like British wildlife. And I am wondering what animal will be the star of the show this year, the one that will fascinate the viewers and . My money is often on some sort of owl and I have seen some on the show already, but honestly I find owls a more autumnal bird. Another great contender is the otter, as you can see here from the otter sanctuary in Buckfastleigh in Devon. Otters are among my favourite animals in Britain, so I am truly rooting for them.
I blogged before about the scarecrows my wife and I bought for the garden of our new home. Well, my wife went to Home Bargains yesterday and bought two more. Much bigger and at £0.99 each, instead of £2.50. At less than a quid each, it is truly indeed a bargain. We bought far more exciting/useful things before and have far more to buy, but the scarecrows will be my favourite acquisitions. They are unimportant in themselves and there are no crows to scare or nothing to attract them, but they will give the garden and house a bit of originality. And they look so beautifully autumnal. especially the one you see on the top left, which is my favourite.
That said, the one on the bottom right is not bad either. It has less autumn leafs and more sunflowers, which makes it autumnal enough. He has less fiery red/yellow colours, with a blue apron. I say he, but maybe it's a she, we will need to decide/settle that. We also need to give them names. The first one was named Rusty, the second one Rosie. I think the one with the fiery colours will be easier to name, the one with the blue might get challenging. But anyway, I am curious about your suggestions. Any ideas? I will also give you some news about their new home and ours.
