Walpurgisnacht

Tonight is Walpurgis Night, the night between April and May, but also a night of devilry, when ghosts, familiar spirits, demons and witches gather for a sabbath. It is one of the most important ones in the year. It is also for the spooky minded person like me, a reminder that Halloween is only half a year away. In fact, you could say that Walpurgistnacht is a sort of mini or crypto Halloween. Time to read some scary stories, or think of stories to write about this night. And to celebrate the day on this blog, I decided to share another picture of the Village Hall's Witch. I wonder if they are having a gathering there, for Walpurgis Night.

Un chat sur le pas de la porte

Hier après-midi, ma femme a entendu des miaulements plaintifs vers la porte. Elle a cru un instant que c'était Domino, mais elle s'est vite rappelée que Domino dormait dans notre chambre, pépère. Et puis il ne sonnait pas comme notre Domi de toute façon.Elle a finalement jeté un coup d'oeil à la fenêtre pour voir le félin que voici. Il rôde souvent dans les environs, ne semble pas très bien s'entendre avec les autres chats et se sauve dès qu'il en voit un s'approcher. Domino et Amy ont l'air de s'en méfier. Ma femme m'a dit que l'oeil du mystérieux chat était blessé, mais je n'ai pas remarqué lorsque je l'ai vu de retour du travail. Il s'est enfui en me voyant. Je me demande bien ce qu'il nous voulait. Il y a bien des spéculations sur ce nouveau chat dans le voisinage. Je compte bien enquêter sur le sujet, par curiosité, mais aussi parce que je soupçonne que c'est peut-être un chat égaré.

Visiting preschools

Yesterday, our little family went to visit a preschool nearby. In this country, a preschool is a bit like a nursery, what Americans call a kindergarten, but it has differences. For more details about them, please read this thread on mumsnet. We are obviously looking for a proper preschool for Wolfie. He very much enjoyed himself there and the conversations I had with the staff reassured me greatly. I am a bit of a worrier when it comes to my son, as you might have guessed. So the staff seems warm and committed, as professional as they are caring. That said, there is something that made me feel a bit blue: Wolfie enjoyed his time there so much that we had to drag him out. I cannot help but think he is growing up too quickly.

Question existentielle (344)

Avril se termine dans le froid, ou en tout cas le pas chaud, alors qu'il y a un peu plus d'une semaine, les températures étaient au dessus de 20. C'est ce qui a inspiré ma question existentielle d'aujourd'hui:

-Comment se fait-il qu'avril soit un mois aussi traître?

Fireball Island

I had wanted to write about this topic for a while and my brother PJ gave me today the little piece of news that gave me the excuse to do so. Some of you who were children growing up in the 80s may remember a board game called Fireball Island. It was a huge, 3D board game that represented an island (duh!), at the center of which there was a volcano which mouth was also an idol, named Vul-Kar, which had a demonic face that threw fireballs (I guess bombs of lava, "personified" by red marbles). Next to this sinister figure was a jewel that our players were supposed to retrieve. It was not a very smart game: too much was due to chance, there was close to no strategy involved and there was so many pieces of material that everything quickly got lost. But all the same, we adored it.

What made this very flawed board game so compelling? What it lacked in game complexity, it made up in atmosphere and its imagery. Look at the box image for instance (on the top left). It's excessive, action-packed, dramatic. There was nothing in the rulebook about the island's history, who had built Vul-Kar (if he had been built at all), what was the jewel meant to represent and why our characters wanted it, but our wild imagination and our knowledge of Indiana Jones and King Kong (among other sources) could easily fill the many blanks. My brothers and I even ended up make belief games based on Fireball Island, when we fought evil cultists, pythons and other wild animals, while trying to dodge fireballs from Vul-Kar's mouth. It was that inspiring. And anyway, PJ told me today that they made a remake of the game. A more complex and intelligent version, where there is more strategy involved. It is modernized, but I am confident it has at least some of the timeless charm of the original. And I am very tempted to buy it just for kicks. Or maybe ask for it for Christmas.

D'autres mystérieux feux d'artifice

S'il y a une chose que les nuits anglaises ont de propore à elles, ce sont les feux d'artifice. Il y en a souvent, à toutes les occasions et parfois on se demande quelle est l'occasion particulière pour que soudainement ils se manifestent. C'était le cas hier: ça s'est mis à tonner soudainement, retardant le sommeil de petit loup. Nous les avons vus de loin, mais même aujourd'hui, aucune mention des feux d'artifice sur les réseaux sociaux locaux. Le mystère demeure entier.

My good deed for the day

Today was a far quieter day than planned: we spent a lot of time at home. But, as both Wolfie and us need time outside, we went to the nearest playground so he could spend some energy. As it was a cool and windy day and late in the afternoon when we decided to get there, it was empty. Except at two moments: first when some young teenagers came back for less than five minutes, then when a group of three children, aged around eight year old, two girls and one boy, came by. We did not interact with them at first, Wolfie was a bit wary after the visit of the teenagers, but they seemed nice enough. One of the girls, the tallest and oldest of the three, climbed on the swing next to our son and stood up there, which quite impressed him. Then they went their way while we remained in the playground. They stopped by a three on the other side of the narrow street, my wife noticed that the multicolored sparkling bag/purse of the eldest girl was stuck in the branches of a tree and they could not reach. Don't ask me how they managed to get it there and why they thought it was a good idea, but I guess that's what kids do. The eldest remained by the tree, while the other two crossed the street and the youngest girl, a brunette with round glasses who looked sweet and shy, asked me if I could help them take the purse off the tree. Which I managed to do, using a stick. So they left thanking me. So that was my good deed of the day. I hope that, if we see them again (which we should), they will interact a bit more with us and befriend with Wolfie.

Quand l'emballage vaut le cadeau

Ma fête s'étant produite il y a moins d'une semaine, je pense pouvoir y revenir un peu le temps d'un billet. Vous voyez sur la photo les cadeaux que j'ai reçus, emballés par ma femme. J'ai déjà blogué sur l'emballage l'année dernière. Il semblerait qu'on en ait encore de celui-ci. C'est le seul papier d'emballage que nous avons acheté qui ne soit pas totalement enfantin et c'est celui qui est utilisé pour tout cadeau que je reçois de ma femme. Ça a l'air bête, il est caricaturalement masculin, mais je trouve qu'il est vraiment cool et j'espère qu'on en trouvera d'autres rouleaux quand on en aura fini avec celui qu'on a.

"Gorgeous George"

Of all the English towns and cities I know, only Wallingford does something special to celebrate Saint George and his day, although it does not celebrate it on the day itself. They commemorate it the Saturday before or after. Apparently, this year it will be tomorrow, but I might be wrong. Depending on how the weather will be, we might go there. It is fitting that they make a big thing of it in Wallingford, as it is maybe the most English place I have ever known. Every year, I pay homage to Saint George in a rather simplistic manner: I just drink a pint of one of the many beers named in his honour and that's that.

This is what happened last year at the Old Post Office in Wallingford, where I tried a pint of Gorgeous George from Loddon Brewery. I rarely drink Loddon Brewery products, not that I find them bad but they rarely leave any impression on me. Of Gorgeous George, I only remember the label on the pump and the fact that it was rather blonde. I was expecting something a bit darker and redder, like the blushing (and utterly unheroic) knight on the label. I wonder if it will be available tomorrow, either there or elsewhere if we go elsewhere. I might try it again.

L'épervier pris sur le vif

Mon père m'a envoyé des photos d'un épervier brun, prise je ne sais où. Le rapace était sur le point de dévorer un autre oiseau, je crois que c'était un canard (j'imagine qu'on a beau être prédateur, on peut avoir du goût). J'ai décidé de partager la photo la moins sanglante et la moins cruelle.

It's NOT Shatterhand (but then what is it?)

As you know, I am a big fan of James Bond and I am very excited about the upcoming Bond film. There were rumours, back in February, that Bond 25, as it is known for now, would be titled Shatterhand. I blogged about it in this post. It has been told since then that it was most definitely not Shatterhand. Today, the title was supposed to be announced. Instead we learned in an interview with the cast, director and production, held in Jamaica in Fleming's residence (the legendary Goldeneye), that... well, we learned a fair deal of things, among them the official casting and a bit of the plot as well. Pretty much all exciting news, but they did not reveal the title, contrary to what they had announced. My hypothesis is that they had one up their sleeve, but found out, for one reason or another that it would not work, so they quickly withdrew it. I was disappointed, but I understand it may come up shortly (maybe tomorrow, who knows). So I am still quite excited... And I am really impatient to know the title of the next Bond movie! If it's not Shatterhand, then what will it be?

Mafalda et Sartre

Je partage ce soir un gag de Mafalda, rien que pour le plaisir. Mais c'est aussi un peu parce que je me suis rendu compte d'une anecdote amusante sur le gag lui-même: c'est peut-être la première fois que j'ai entendu parler de Jean-Paul Sartre. Des années plus tard, j'ai étudié Sartre et les existentialistes, pour ensuite l'enseigner un peu moi même. La mère de Liberté a un rapport plus proche avec, mais quand même, je trouve ça drôle.

Time for Greek mythology soon

My readers know that I love Greek mythology, and they may remember that this time of year, in the weeks of Spring leading to (and including) Summer, it is for me the proper time to reconnect with my old passion. My wife knows this too, and she bought me for my birthday The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. You may remember that last year I thoroughly enjoyed her Circe. Her first novel is a rewriting of The Iliad and the relationship between Achilles and his friend (and lover?) Patroclus. I know the story by heart, but I cannot wait to discover Miller's perspective on it, which, judging by her other novel, should be original, knowledgeable and show genuine love for the source material.

Phoque je fasse attention

Photo prise à Branféré car elle illustre mon propos. Je ne sais pas si c'est un phoque ou une otarie, je suis pas bon pour faire la différence, mais mettons que c'est un phoque. Il se trouve qu'il m'arrive de dire phoque, ou bien pour expliquer à mon fils quelle sorte d'animal c'est, ou bien en utilisant l'homophone comme interjection, comme tout Québécois qui se respecte. Mais ici, il faut se méfier, il y a des gens qui pourraient me regarder de travers. Phoque je fasse attention. Et oui, ce billet est un peu une excuse pour proférer un nouveau calembour atroce.

Saint George's Day

Happy Saint George's Day everyone! The day that is ending is the celebration of the patron saint of England. Which is ironically not celebrated much here, if at all. But on this blog, we give Saint George the respect he deserves. Mainly because he is the most famous dragon slayer. My father took this picture in Berlin, of all places. I blogged about it before. It is a monument to his most famous exploit. I thought it was fitting to show a portrait of the saint/hero in action. But I should blog more about him in the upcoming days, because we might celebrate Saint George properly this weekend.

Le blues d'après Pâques

Je me suis demandé l'année dernière dans une question existentielle (la 325) s'il y avait un blues d'après Pâques. Maintenant, je peux confirmer que oui, parce que j'en fais l'expérience. Comme Pâques arrive à des dates irrégulières, ce n'est pas une mélancolie comme celle d'après Noël. C'est simplement une baisse de tension après un beau moment. Nous avons été choyés à Pâques cette année: la fête est arrivée tard, il a fait beau, on dirait bien que l'été est en route... Retourner à la routine c'est... routinier. Au moins, ça ne devrait pas durer trop longtemps: d'autres jours fériés s'en viennent. C'est aussi un des avantages de Pâques qui n'arrive pas trop tôt dans l'année: on passe moins de temps à attendre le prochain évènement spécial qui va briser la monotonie de l'existence.

Don Giovanni and an Easter memory

I recently blogged that, while I never had a birthday on Easter itself until yesterday, my family did celebrate my birthday on Easter when both were close, for practical reasons. One of the memories I have of it, and one of the fondest birthday and Easter memories I ever had, was on Easter 1987, which was on the 19th of April. We had brunch at my godfather's restaurant, where I also unwrapped my presents. Among them, I received  Don Giovanni by Mozart in vinyl. I was over the moon as, believed it or not, I had asked for it. Back then, buying a whole opera in vinyl was a big thing, it was an expensive thing, so I felt both spoiled and incredibly privileged, like I was deemed capable of appreciating grownup stuff. I remember proudly telling one of the waitresses that I received an opera, and she congratulated me. I think she found me very cute and probably very naive (not to mention geeky as Hell).

So I spent the whole evening listening to the first act ( listened to the rest the next day) and reading the libretto from back to back. It was not a very good translation, i discovered it later, but I got the gist of the story and I was completely taken by it. I cannot think of a happier birthday memory and a better present. Anyway, since that day, I associate Don Giovanni to Easter and this time of year. To commemorate, here is one aria from the opera, in a production that may or may not be the one I had, but it is from about that time period. With Dame Kiri Te Kanawa singing Ah chi mi dice mai. You can't go wrong with her as Donna Elvira.

Un globe pour le Jour de la Terre

Nous sommes le Jour de la Terre et je voulais le souligner, je ne savais pas trop quoi mettre, puis j'ai vu cette photo prisedans le Derbyshire, qui me semble fort appropriée. Je sais qu'un globe, ce n'est pas très original, mais ça fera l'affaire. Je ne sais pas si le globe est supposé représenter la Terre ou autre chose, cela dit on peut au moins spéculer que si. Pour la petite histoire, les globes terrestres de tous genres m'ont toujours beaucoup fasciné.

My first Action Man

Well, I was hoping for it, but I was not expecting it so early: today, I received as a birthday gift my first ever Action Man. Not just any Action Man: he is a brand new one, still in his packaging. He is the Action Soldier and comes with his uniform, beret, tag and... scar. Of course, he needs that scar. A present from my wife, but I suspect it is also for little Wolfie, when he will be three years old (as it is not recommended before) and when he will be interested about something else than cars, trucks and other means of transport. Anyway, apparently I am not the only person who is fond of this old British icon: there is a whole business built on nostalgia, which is why this one is brand new: they are making more. This Action Man is the first in a collection of many, at least I hope so. For me, but also and especially for Wolfie.

Un lapin comme gâteau de fête

Non, non je n'ai pas fait de gâteau de Pâques en lapin cette année, d'abord parce que je suis très mauvais pâtissier et que la dernière fois que je me suis essayé de faire un gâteau en forme de lapin, il avait l'air plus démoniaque qu'autre chose. Ma mère avait fait ce gâteau en 2017 et je pense qu'il aurait approprié aujourd'hui, comme nous célébrions autant Pâques que ma fête. C'est parfois ce qui se passait quand j'étais enfant. Je regrette un peu d'avoir acheté le gâteau cette année et de ne pas avoir tenté ma chance, malgré mon manque de talent pour la confection de gâteaux.

My birthday on Easter

Tomorrow as you know is Easter. It is also my birthday. This will be the first time in my lifetime when Easter will fall on my birthday. I might be wrong, but from memory it will be the first time. That said, that Easter comes around the time of my birthday is nothing new. In fact, I remember that my parents often celebrated my birthday on Easter Sunday. As a child, I confused both days, sometimes thinking that I was born on Easter. So I have a few memories of mixing both days into one celebration: Easter related birthday presents, religiously themed birthday presents (I was once a devout Catholic child), birthday cakes that have the shape of giant eggs or rabbits, etc. I will try to blog about some of these memories in the future. What strikes me is that I don't remember feeling short changed: I enjoyed this kind of birthday, it made me feel special.

Un gros lièvre?

Nous sommes allés à Rumsey aujourd'hui, une chocolaterie/café situé à Thame. Ce fut une belle visite, mais c'est sur un détail précis que je veux bloquer ce soir: ce lapin en chocolat. Enfin, ce lièvre car semble-t-il il s'agit d'un lièvre. Un "gros lièvre" en chocolat à £29.95. Faites le calcul en dollars canadiens. Je ne veux pas être méchant, parce que le personnel était très gentil et ce fut délicieux, je suis persuadé que le lièvre en chocolat l'est autant. Mais dans les proportions saguenéennes et même québécoises, c'est à peine un lapin (ou un lièvre) moyen. À ce prix-là, on aurait quelque chose de deux fois plus gros, et je le crois, d'aussi bon. Je n'ai donc pas acheté le gros lièvre. Cela dit, au moins il n'a pas l'air d'un cousin de Bugs Bunny. C'est un lièvre quasiment réaliste, proprement artisanal.

The Fish & Chips of Good Friday

Well, it is (and soon it was) Good Friday, and since I could not get proper Montreal bagels to go with smoked salmon, I had to go for the best local aquatic delicacy: fish and chips. Old traditions must make way to "new" ones. That said, I am very lucky when it comes to fish and chips: we have a local chip shop that makes great fish and chips. So this is what I had tonight (I decided to share the picture to create a food porn moment). The cod was large size. I was afraid to grow hungry otherwise. Fish and chips really put the good in Good Friday.

L'ostie d'jeu

J'ai appris complètement par hasard sur Facebook l'existence d'un jeu de société (et de cartes, si je comprends bien) appelé L'ostie d'jeu. Je ne sais pas trop ce que c'est, sauf que c'est un jeu d'association d'idées et que c'est très québécois. Rien qu'à cause du nom, je suis curieux. J'ai donc appris qu'ils sortiraient à l'automne un paquet de cartes sur les 17 régions du Québec plus l'Acadie, dont (donc) ma région. Et ça décuple ma curiosité. je veux vraiment avoir la variante saguenéenne et jeannoise maintenant.

The Last Supper, Cthulhu style

We are Maundy Thursday and I thought I would sort of "commemorate" (as I'm a Godless heathen) on my blog with a bit of humorous sacrilege. I shared this picture on the blog last year in French. You can recognize the Last Supper, parodied with Cthulhu and other creatures from the Mythos. I guess you must read Lovecraft to truly appreciate, but it's hilarious.

Oiseaux empaillés

Photo prise au National History Museum, dans la section des animaux empaillés, lesquels sont parfois voire pour la plupart centenaires. Ça leur donne un certain cachet. Vous y voyez des merles, "blackbirds", si je ne me trompe pas, et c'est ironique car il y en a deux de blancs. Mais enfin bref, ils ont l'air vivant et pris sur le vif. C'est ce qui m'impressionne le plus dans les animaux empaillés, en général et ceux du NHM en particulier.

Late night's melancholy

I am a big fan of Sarah's Scribbles, as you may know. She published one comic strip recently which I wanted to share here. This is the story of my youth, especially of my early twenties. But any night owl would tell you, there comes a moment when the Sadness (with a capital S) comes.

Le Lapin Lulu

Photo prise sur la page Facebook de la Chocolaterie Lulu, afin d'illustrer mon propos. Car ce billet est un petit moment de fierté et de nostalgie régionale avant Pâques: me semble que ce serait bon, un bon lapin Lulu. Ça doit faire au moins dix ans que j'en ai pas mangé. Outre qu'ils sont délicieux, ce sont à peu près les seules figurines en chocolat de Pâques qui soient encore proprement réalistes, au Québec ou ailleurs. Regardez celui-ci par exemple: il a l'air d'un vrai lapin anthropomorphique, on dirait que c'est le lapin de Pâques. Je n'en trouve pas d'aussi belles ici.

David's Iced Tea

Not long ago, I blogged about iced teas. Well, as I found out via on the Facebook page of David's Tea, they have their own range of iced teas in their newly launched Tropical Collection. Now I find it still too early in the year for a "Tropical Collection" and I am not too keen on the design of accessories for this one (too pastel and, well, tropical for my "autumnal" tastes), but as I rediscovered iced teas, I would certainly like to try the ones from David's Tea.

Souvenir de Notre-dame

Je reviens sur la nouvelle d'hier, laquelle est bien entendu très vivace dans nos esprits. Brûlante, sans faire de mauvais jeu de mots. J'y ai songé aujourd'hui et mon souvenir le plus vivace de Notre-Dame de Paris, c'est en fait la lecture du roman du même nom de Victor Hugo. Je l'ai lu au cours de mes études en littérature et j'en ai gardé un excellent souvenir. C'était à un âge ou j'étais encore très porté sur le romantisme. Je ne l'ai lu qu'une fois, mais il y a tant à lire. Il faudra bien le revisiter un jour.

Decaf? Really?

Learned today in an article from The Guardian that decaf has leapt in popularity. Apparently because of the very effect of coffee. With decaf you can enjoy the taste of coffee without its side effect. This baffles me. I hate coffee. I hate its taste, I hate the effect it has on me. Like I am about to overdose on cocaine or something of the sort (not that I ever tried coke, mind you, but it sure feels like this). So I can sort of understand why people would like not to feel its effect. But enjoying its taste? Really? I just cannot understand.

Notre-Dame brûle

Bon, j'ai appris plus tôt ce soir que Notre-Dame de Paris est la proie des flammes et qu'il se peut qu'elle parte en fumée. L'horreur, l'horreur. Je n'ai rien à dire pour le moment que ça. On ne sait pas l'origine de l'incendie au moment où j'écris ces lignes. Et il se peut qu'on ne puisse pas la sauver. Bon, je n'ai plus rien à dire.

The long Holy Monday

Today is Holy Monday, which means there is less than a week until Easter, it's the Holy Week as we called it when I was a good little Catholic boy then easily impressed by such things. That was a long time ago. I blogged about it in details here. I don't miss much from my Catholic past, but I do miss the fact that then Holy Monday was a thing to be excited about, something to make us stay patient until Easter. Now, Holy Monday is one looong working Monday until the bank holiday to come. Even if it is a four days week, it feels longer. That is my experience of it anyway, since I started working in the private sector. Let's hope this one goes a bit faster.

Mafia Inc., le film

J'ai déjà blogué à quelques reprises sur le livre documentaire Mafia Inc d'André Cédilot et d'André Noël. C'est une "lecture criminelle" non fictive qui paradoxalement se lit aussi facilement qu'un roman policier. Ça fait tout de même plus froid dans le dos que la plupart des polars que j'ai lus, parce que c'est une histoire vraie. Or, j'ai récemment appris (en retard sur les nouvelles) que le réalisateur Daniel Grou dit Podz tourne un film, une authentique fiction cette fois-ci, librement inspiré du livre et intitulé comme celui-ci Mafia Inc. Je ne sais pas ce que ça va donner, mais la bande-annonce, que je partage plus bas, semble prometteuse. Peu importe quand je vais pouvoir le regarder, j'ai déjà hâte.

Stocking hot cross buns

Today is Palm Sunday, which means Easter is in a week. We have therefore started stocking for Easter. Among other things, the traditional and quintessentially British hot cross buns. I bought them at Marks & Spencer, partially because nothing is more British than M&S, partially because from experience, they are the best. Also, they had have a wide variety of hot cross buns and since there was a special Easter offer on them... Well, I bought four packs: luxury (traditional), Kentish bramley apples, blueberry and golden hot cross buns. Not the salted caramel and chocolate ones, or the mini chocolate hot cross buns. But that may come later. Like the lady at the till said: "better make the best of something on offer, and they can be frozen anyway." So far, I think the apple ones are my favourite. But all of them are good and perfect for breakfast this week.

Classer les livres par couleur

Je ne connaissais pas Anouk Ricard, mais j'ai trouvé cette bédé par hasard dans les internets et j'ai pensé la partager ici, car je l'ai trouvée très drôle. Pas tant pour le gag lui-même que pour le calembour atroce du nom de la librairie et pourla méthode absurde de classer les livres par couleur. Je soupçonne que certaines personnes font la même chose chez eux et ne les lisent pas.

Outside the art gallery

I was a bit gutted recently: as I was walking downtown with little Wolfie, who was asleep in his cot, I saw that the local art gallery was having an exhibition of Fabian Perez. His latest works, apparently. Furthermore, he was there. I had known about it, but had forgotten. Wolfie being fast asleep in his cot,I was tempted to go in quickly, check the painting and maybe even say a word to the maestro, whom I briefly met once. I did not for a few reasons: 1)I looked utterly unglamorous in my worn out jeans and old jumper, 2)it was very crowded and did not want Wolfie to wake up and 3)I did not feel like I belonged there, if that makes sense. But I could at least admire the painting in the window. Perez makes great femmes fatales. I was all the happier that it was one I had not seen yet.

Le lapin de la librairie

On va trouver que je fais souvent dans le billet sur les lapins en peluche, mais Pâques s'en vient et les signes sont partout. Après l'épicerie, voici que notre librairie locale a un gros lapin toutou tout mignon sur son comptoir. (Désolé, la photo est floue). Celui-ci, cependant, n'était pas offert dans un tirage ou un concours. Pas que je sache en tout cas. Il y a semble-t-il bien des livres sur le thème de Pâques en vente dans notre librairie, ils sont bons pour faire des ventes thématiques selon les fêtes de l'année. Ils vendent comme je lis, de manière saisonnière. Mais je n'ai pas passé beaucoup de temps pour voir les lectures pascales qu'ils proposaient. J'ai pris le temps cependant de prendre en photo le lapin, rien que parce qu'il était mignon.

The Unknown Bunny

Easter is coming, in fact it's just round the corner, and  it means that we see rabbits, THE animal representative of the holiday, everywhere. In Morrisons, there is (was?) a sort of draft or competition, where you have to guess this plush rabbit's name. I haven't participated yet, I thought to first check with my readership if they had any suggestions. Jack? Blossom? Come to think of it, this bunny is from Jellycat, so if I go on their website I might find his name. But they all seem to be named Bashful. Maybe you just need to invent one. What is your guess?

Les vols-au-vent au saumon

Il m'arrive parfois d'être pas si tant pire comme cuisinier. Comme ce fut le cas il y a une semaine environ: j'ai fait une béchamel au saumon pour aller avec des vols-au-vent. Un classique familial. Malheureusement, petit loup n'a pas aimé du tout. Enfin, je dis ça, il n'a même pas pris la peine d'y goûter, il a regardé ça dans son assiette, a lancé un "yuck!" sonore, puis il a voulu autre chose. Je ne referai pas de béchamel au saumon de sitôt. C'est dommage, car je la réussis bien en général.

Cutting trees for no good reason

Here is a bit of local news and local controversy. In our little town, some developers have decided to cut down the trees boarding a road nearby. That got a few locals, us included, very irritated. There is something I always loved about the town we live in, since the first time I discovered it, more than ten years ago. It is the presence of green spaces: there are lots of trees, old ones, healthy ones, it gives this town some of its timeless character. When you walk here, whether it is to run errands or just for the pleasure of walking, it is always pleasant. You feel this proximity with nature. Now some mindless developers want to spoil this and take away a bit of its soul. There is a petition online which my wife signed and apparently it scared them off, but not for long. Let's hope the trees will still stand, as there is enough bricks and concrete as it is.

Lémuriens sur les murs

Voici une nouvelle photo prise sur le mur deBute Park à Cardiff. Je crois, je n'en suis pas certain, que ce sont des lémuriens. J'ai voulu les partager ce soir rien que pour l'allitération et le calembour atroce du titre: lémuriens sur les murs. Avouez que vous avez une migraine rien qu'à lire cette horreur.

Uncle "Man"

As I mentioned yesterday, we recently met the in-laws in a woodland owned by the National Trust. Wolfie had a chance to meet again and properly bond for the first time with his uncle on my wife's side (so my wife's brother). The uncle adores my son, partially I think because as he only had a daughter, he feels that he can share a lot with this little man who reminds him of himself a bit. Wolfie was unable to say his name, so he called him "Man". Uncle "Man," who once was a boy scout, taught him a few things about woodlands, what a stomp is, what a trunk is, what a root is. So during our whole walk in the woods, Wolfie stopped every few step shouting: "Oh, look Man! A root!" For about an hour. It never got old for him. I am surprised how quickly he got comfortable with my brother-in-law, as he had only met him a few times, when he was very young. It was very touching.

Pâque et moi

Petit billet pascal, car c'est pour bientôt. Cette année, Pâques arrive à un bien étrange moment: le jour de ma fête. Enfin, je devrais dire que le jour de ma fête tombe sur celui de Pâques. Je ne sais pas si c'est une bonne ou une mauvaise chose. Enfant, j'aimais bien que ça tombe en même temps, j'ai même cru un temps que la fête de Pâques me célébrait moi. N'empêche, ça cause un problème ou deux, notamment sur comment fêter l'une et l'autre (mettons que la sortie au restaurant, on met ça de côté). Nous avons des traditions et des rituels pour les deux, qui forcément seront mélangées. J'en ferai sans doute une question existentielle. Pour le moment, je vais conclure ce billet en disant que je comprends ceux qui ont leur anniversaire de naissance durant les Fêtes (surtout à Noël).

Waiting for the Action Men

I blogged a few times before about this local fancy men's wear shop that at some point in the year uses Action Men figures in their window to advertise (and, in the meantime, be patriotic). They usually show up around April, but last time we walked by they were not there. I hope I haven't missed them. For many reasons, listed in this post, I have developed a sort of obsession about the action figures. They channel some kind of nostalgia in me, who is easily nostalgic. I hope to get my hands on some of them one day. For little Wolfie of course. We saw my brother-in-law this weekend, and I stupidly forgot to ask him if he had kept any from his childhood collection. He completely adores Wolfie (I will blog about this in more details), so I am sure that he would happily give him his Action Men, if he has any left. Until then, I hope they show up in the shop windows soon.

Petit loup dans le bois

Nous sommes allés en fin de semaine dernière

nous promener dans une forêt du National Trust avec la famille de ma femme (enfin, son grand frère et sa petite soeur et leurs époux respectifs). Notre nièce n'y était pas, malheureusement. Mais petit loup a eu beaucoup de plaisir à courir dans la forêt et interagir avec son oncle, qu'il appelle "Man". Sur la photo ici, vous pouvez le voir, tenant la main de son père et de son oncle.

2,000 words

My next creative writing workshop is this Saturday and I thought I would quickly blog about some updates regarding it. I was asked as homework to produce a synopsis of the novel I have been asked to work on (what did I get myself into). This is mostly done: the plot is set in its broad lines, the characters are all there, the setting is still Montreal, organized crime will play a large part in the story, etc. Now I was told in a recent email from the writer organizing it that people are expected to bring about 2,000 words of work. Thankfully, this is counting the synopsis, if one is working on a story, which is my case. 2,000 words of prose, within a week, it is feasible, back at uni I used to write that much within an evening sometimes, but as a father with a day job and family obligations, this is not so easy. Thankfully, the synopsis itself is a little more than 1,000 words (1,200 words) and the 2,000 is the absolute maximum. I have already more than enough to share on Saturday. But I will try to write a bit of prose to go with it, to flex my muscles so to speak.

Question existentielle (343)

Voici une question existentielle inspirée de mon billet de samedi. La voici donc:

-Une fois atteint l'âge adulte, quelqu'un peit-il encore considérer la maison de ses parents comme sa maison?

Woodland playground

Today, we went to a woodland area owned by the National Trust to see the family (my wife's sister and brother and their respective spouses). Wolfie had great fun there and I will blog about it in more details, but tonight I wanted to mention one aspect that he particularly enjoyed when we arrived: some children playground by the forest made of natural wood. Mainly, some tree trunks, tree stumps and branches to climb on, walk through, hang to, sit on, etc. Wolfie adored it, asking to sit on a trunk, then the higher one, then the higher one and so on, until he got on the highest one. Here is a picture of him. I think because Wolfie is something of a wild child, he feels at ease in woodlands. He sure had lots of fun there, particularly with his uncle, but that is for another post.

Sauterelle

J'ai pris cette photo dans le mini-zoo que nous avons visité la semaine dernière.Je ne suis pas certain, mais je crois que c'est une sorte de sauterelle. J'imagine surtout les sauterelles sautant, pas en vol. La semaine dernière, je bloguais sur les tarentules. Les sauterelles font beaucoup moins peur, mais moi je les trouve au moins aussi effrayantes. Tout d'abord à cause d'un roman d'horreur (je vous laisse deviner lequel) où la sauterelle représente quelque chose de beaucoup plus sinistre. Ensuite à cause de la nouvelle d'Alphone Daudet, où elles sont une force de destruction. Je crois aussi me rappeler que la sauterelle est une des plaies d'Égypte. Alors à bien y penser, ce soit des insectes cauchemardesques.

The bottle opener on the wall

This post is about exactly what it says in the title: a bottle opener that is on a wall. To be more precise: a bottle opener that is screwed on one of the walls of our kitchen, just by the sink. It was here when we came in the house. And? And nothing else. I use it to open my beers and, errm... Well, it is mainly to open my beer bottles. Thanks to it, I never have to look through the drawers in the kitchen when I want a drink. It is a handy and reliable tool. I cannot honestly claim that this was a major selling point when we bought our home, but I must confess that it did give me a good vibe about this place. It proved to be quite handy too.

"Ranger" les jouets

Parfois, il y a des moments où notre petit loup range les jouets d'une manière bien singulière, pour ne pas dire peu orthodoxe. Comme vous le voyez ici: les camions et autres véhicules sont alignés sur le bord de la rampe de bois près de l'entrée. Nous avons trouvé ça très mignon.

The Village Hall's witch

Today, we went to a nearby village for a special messy play day for babies, toddlers and children. It was in the village hall building. As an ensign, the hall has a witch, flying on her broomstick right before a crescent of moon. I have no idea whatsoever why they have a witch as a village ensign, but I want to find out and will work very hard to solve this mystery. I think there is at least one good scary story to write for Halloween, inspired by this witch. Also, as a bonus anecdote, I showed it to Wolfie, who was very impressed. And he now knows how to say witch and sorcière...

La/ma/notre maison?

Non, je ne parle pas de cette maison, que j'ai prise en photo quelque part dans le Devon. J'ai utilisé une photo semblable ici. Non, je publie la photo ici afin d'illustrer mon propos. Donc, je pensais à la maison où j'ai grandi et je me demandais si je peux encore l'appeler "ma" maison, ou si je dois maintenant dire "la maison de mes parents". J'ai une maison, qui est maintenant la maison de ma famille, "ma maison", ou "notre maison". J'en ferai peut-être une question existentielle. C'est pas évident tout ça.

Breaking toys on purpose

Here is another peculiar habit our Wolfie took recently: he breaks his toys apart, when they are plastic trucks or cars or any kind of engines. He does that on purpose methodically, and if he cannot do it he asks for our help. Sometimes, he even gets upset if the toy is not entirely broken apart. His mother thinks it is because he is a natural engineer, like many of his great uncles on both sides of his family. My father and my wife's mother both have brothers who are engineers, you see. And we also have a few cousins who are. I think it is because he is a natural anarchist. Which he proved time and again. In any case, he finds the wanton destruction of his toy cars, trucks and what have you the funniest thing right now.

Boisson d'avril (Le Trou du diable)

Il fut un temps où je pensais que Boisson d'avril n'était que le titre d'une chanson de Groovy Aardvark, à écouter de préférence durant le mois d'avril. Enfin, toute l'année, car elle est vraiment bonne, mais au mois d'avril c'est comme plus d'adon. Une chanson que je partageais parfois ici le premier avril. Or, la Boisson d'avril est aussi, surprise, une bière de la brasserie Le Trou du diable, faite justement en collaboration avec le groupe. Je ne la connais pas et je ne crois pas avoir bu aucun produit du Trou du diable, mais je suis curieux de l'essayer, même si je ne suis pas porté sur les blondes, encore moins sur les lagers. Ça pourrait devenir ma boisson d'avril, sans jeu de mot. En tout cas, ça pourrait être ma boisson d'avril lorsque je vais au Québec, si jamais j'y retourne en avril. On ne sait jamais. D'ici là, je repartage la chanson, performée ici lors du lancement de la bière.

Marble tea mugs

I took this picture on the Facebook page of David's Tea. You can see two mugs from their Marble Collection. The ink marble raindrop mug (in blue) and the deep pink marble raindrop mug (in, you guessed it, pink). His and hers? Say what you will about the uneven quality of their brews and I know the company has been struggling a lot lately, but there is something you can't take away from David's Tea: they make the best tea accessories. They get it wrong sometimes, but not very often. I'd love to buy these two very posh mugs for my wife and I. Sadly (and strangely as she is an Englishwoman), she does not drink tea.

Un lion sur le mur

J'ai pris cette photo à Bute Park à Cardiff. Enfin, prise sur le mur qui était devant Bute Park. Il y avait comme ça bien des statues d'animaux, qui m'ont pour la plupart fait une forte impression. Toujours est-il que j'ai pris beaucoup de photos des bêtes, avec la caméra de mon ancien téléphone cellulaire, qui était hélas assez mauvaise. Ce lion a ceci de particulier qu'il a presque l'air d'un Sphinx, avec sa crinière qui ressemble plus à une chevelure humaine, ou à une perruque. Sans l'être entièrement, il y a un brin d'anthropomorphisme chez lui. Qu'en pensez-vous?

Mallard for the April's train

I mentioned back in January that we bought, at the insistance of Wolfie (and to the dismay of his mother) a train calendar. I got really excited when I turned the page to the April month: there was a picture of Mallard. The fastest steam train in the world. Now, I am not an expert in trains even though I love them, but I saw this very train at the National Railway Museum in York. This is the picture I took of the locomotive, which I understand is legendary. Not a very good one, I'm afraid, as you barely see any of it. I really want to visit revisit the museum with my son. I think it would be a great treat for him.

Tarentule (?)

Nous sommes récemment allés dans une ferme qui était un mino-zoo, parfois ouvert au public. Il y avait quelques animaux exotiques vivants ainsi que quelques animaux morts, sous verre, dont ces deux araignées, qui ont dégoûté ma femme, parce qu'elle déteste les arachnides. Je crois que la grosse est une tarentule, une tarentule bien velue et effrayante. Je dis ça, et petit loup n'a pas paru impressionné. Je n'ai jamais eu de peur phobique des araignées, mais j'ai toujours eu pour les tarentules et les araignées vénéneuses une certaine crainte mêlée de fascination. Je n'en aurais pas une comme animal de compagnie (je sais qu'on en vend dans les animaleries au Québec), mais sous verre comme ça, je trouve ça impressionnant.

Buck's Fizz VS Mimosa

Today, out of pure chance, I finally learned the difference between two cocktails that seem exactly similar: the Buck's Fizz, a British classic I discovered here in England, and the Mimosa, which I knew from before, but never quite got into. Both are made of champagne and orange juice. The only difference is the quantity: the Mimosa has half parts of each beverage, while the Busk's Fizz is two parts champagne and one part orange juice. No wonder I always preferred Buck's Fizz. Mystery solved.

Grêle d'avril

Preuve qu'avril est un mois traître: il y a eu en fin d'après-midi une bordée de... grêle. J'ai cru un instant que c'était de la neige. Ce fut bref, mais très intense. Et on prévoit des températures bien capricieuses dans les prochains jours. Ça ne m'étonne même pas, en avril.

The Heckler

No, no, I am not talking of any real person, I am referring to the title of a novel by Ed mcBain, featuring his 87th Precinct. Not just any novel in the series, but the one featuring archenemy, evil genius and master criminal the Deaf Man. He is also the heckler of the title. I read the novel a few months ago and decided to recommend it tonight for a simple reason: it is set in April and it starts in April Fool's Day. So it's a perfect crime read for this month and ideally to start today. The Deaf Man makes his debut in the series as a sinister and dangerous trickster whose jokes end up quite deadly. If parts of his plan is a tad far-fetched for today's readers, it is still solid suspense and a gripping read.

Le Sahara dans les souliers

Il faudra un jour qu'on m'explique comment un enfant avec d'aussi petits pieds que mon petit loup peut être transporter autant de sable dans ses souliers. Il y a quelques jours, j'essayais de les lui mettre dans les pieds, quand soudainement il y a comme un Sahara qui m'est tombé dessus. Puis plus tard, quand je l'ai déchaussé, c'est l'autre soulier qui s'est mis à répandre le contenu d'une plage méditerranéenne sur le sofa. Je n'exagère même pas. Et ça m'échappe.

Wolfie and the otters

My readers know how much I love otters. Well, my wife and I discovered recently that Wolfie does not share yet this love. We recently visited a sort of mini-zoo that has a number of exotic and local animals. Including otters. (But not the otter on the picture: I took this particular photo in the otters sanctuary that we visited a few years ago in Buckfastleigh, in Devon.) While Wolfie loved quite a few animals, when he saw the otters there he looked pitifully, cuddled up to us and said in a small voice "bit scared". We had to go away. I wonder why he was scared of the otters there and not of other, bigger animals. Maybe there is something predatory about their attitude?

Poisson(s) d'avril

Nous sommes le premier avril, jour du Poisson d'avril, et je me demandais comment le souligner. J'ai pensé mettre encore une fois cette chanson, mais bon, une tradition peut vite devenir répétitive. Au lieu de ça, voici une photo de la pêche blance à La Baie, prise il y a des semaines. Quel rapport, me demanderez-vous, à part le poisson? Bien les températures sont capricieuses dans ma région natale, froides avec de la neige et de la glace et toute la patente. Je ne sais pas s'il y a encore de la pêche blanche, mais il semblerait que dans mon coin de pays d'origine avril ait le sens de l'humour grinçant.