News about my godson

I spoke to the mother of my godson recently, via messenger. I hadn't taken news from her in a long, long while and I thought it was about time. I learned that my godson, who turned 20 this year, is going to study engineering in another city, a few hours away from his mother. I know I'm not his dad and I'm already living an ocean away from him, but it shocked me all the same. On the one hand, I'm really proud of him. Nevertheless, it's hard to know he grew up so fast.

Deux fêtes

 C'est aujourd'hui la fête de mon plus jeune frère, Andrew. Le bébé de la famille, comme mes parents l'appellent encore, puisque c'est le plus jeune des trois frères, même si maintenant il est père de deux enfants et a 44 ans. Ce qui ne rajeunit personne. C'est aussi la fête de mon filleul, le fils de deux amis du cégep, qui a aujourd'hui.. 20 ans. Je me rappelle encore de son baptême. Morale de l'histoire: ça ne rajeunit vraiment personne et le temps passe vite.

Mon filleul veut voyager

J'ai appris une nouvelle de la mère de mon filleul récemment: il ramasse de l'argent pour faire un voyage d'un an après son cégep. Il veut aller en... Chine. J'espérais un peu qu'il vienne ici, même si on ne peut pas vraiment l'héberger, en tout cas pas pour longtemps. Dans tous les cas, ça m'a fait un choc de voir qu'il grandit et qu'il a des idées de voyage. Il est très sérieux et discipliné dans sa démarche, paraît-il.

The best Christmas present so far this year

We received the family of my godson for dinner tonight. It was lovely and too short. I was a bit anxious of seeing them, especially my godson: he is 14 now and I thought he would be a bit... Teenagery. I needed be worried: he is just the same sweet kid as he ever was, only much taller. He was grateful to the boring gifts we had for him and his family, he was interested about our lives over the Atlantic and was talkative about his own, not sulky at all like some teens are, he was simply adorable. He also gave me the best Christmas present so far this year: a small painting he had made especially for me, of mountains and the northern lights. This was the second painting he ever did (first was for his grandmother), of his own inititative. I was close to tears. It was so thoughtful and so original.

Football and me

It is the World Cup. The problem is: football/soccer bores me to tears. I tried to like it, tried to follow a game here and there, every time I just got bored. Like, really bored. The hysteria people have here for the sport (and it won't get any better: England won yesterday) just baffles me. I say this and now I must be careful about what I say about football on social medias: my godson is a big fan and a talented football player in his own right. I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings, if he'd learned that his godfather ("the best in the whole world") is really not into it. Like I said to my wife last night: "Football is just not interesting if my godson does not play." Which I think deserves to be a great unknown line. I did saw him play, back in 2016. He was really disappointed: he'd lost that game, while he had won the previous one and had made two goals. I hope to see him play again one day, and see him win this time. But until then, I cannot wait for the World Cup to be over.

The honorary fairy godfather (!)

My wife is the godmother to the daughter of one of her cousins. I blogged about her christening back in 2008. Her goddaughter absolutely adores her and calls my wife her "fairy godmother". When she was very young, I think the girl even believed my wife truly was a fairy godmother, I mean the character from the fairy tales, with magical powers and so on. Anyway, it was her birthday recently and apparently, she said to her mum that she had decided that I would be her honorary fairy godfather. I don't know what that entails and I hope it does not involve doing magic, but I thought it was nevertheless very cute. And a bit surprising, as she had never been nearly as fond of me as she is of my wife.

Ça ne "cerf" à rien

Je fais ce calembour atroce dans mon titre afin d'annoncer que mon père termine sa première saison de chasse à l'arbalète sans avoir pris du gibier. Aux dernières nouvelles en tout cas. Ça fait plaisir à ma femme et ça fera plaisir à mon filleul, qui trouve ceux qui tuent les chevreuils "vraiment méchants". Les cervidés sont ses animaux préférés, voyez-vous. J'ai pris cette photo dans le Derbyshire et j'ai cru qu'elle illustrerait bien mon propos. Depuis que je les ai vus ainsi à proximité, je les trouve vraiment superbes et je suis moi aussi content que mon père soit rentré bredouille. Je sais, je sais, je suis un fils indigne.

Le football/soccer, mon filleul et moi

Je vais avec ce billet parler de résultats sportifs, ce qui est une rareté sur ce blogue. Le sport ne m'intéresse guère et le football/soccer peut-être moins que tous les autres. Mais voilà: mon filleul est un mordu du football/soccer et il joue dans une équipe junior. Ce qui veut dire que depuis qu'il a commencé et pour la première fois de ma vie, je dois m'intéresser au football. En tout cas, je fais un point d'honneur à m'intéresser à son équipe et les match que mon filleul dispute. Or, j'ai appris hier qu'ils ont gagné la médaille d'or d'un tournois. Je suis très fier de lui. Je l'ai vu jouer une fois dans ma vie, malheureusement et pour son plus grand chagrin il avait perdu (devant son parrain, il était inconsolable). J'aurais vraiment voulu être au match d'hier pour partager son triomphe. Peut-être une autre année. En tout cas, je suis fier de lui.

Pandas roux et cartes postales

Photo prise à Branféré et ceci est un nouveau billet animalier. Enfin, c'est aussi ça. J'ai décidé récemment de me remettre à pratiquer l'art oublié de l'envoi de cartes postales. J'en ai envoyé quelques unes à la famille de mon filleul, dont une carte postale de Branféré, montrant bien entendu des pandas roux. Ce sont les pensionnaires les plus photogéniques du parc. J'ai envoyé la carte postale des pandas roux à l'aînée de la famille, qui a quatorze ans. Je crois que la mignonceté des pandas roux viendra à bout de tout cynisme adolescent et lui fera bien plaisir. Les filles de son âge, elles aiment encore les animaux mignons comme celui-ci.

Les nombreux anniversaires

Petites nouvelles familiales: c'est aujourd'hui la fête de mon petit frère, qui a 34 ans. Le plus jeune de la famille. Il a 34 ans. Ai-je mentionné que c'est mon petit frère? Le plus jeune de la famille. Il a donc 34 ans. Le plus jeune des frères... Enfin bref, ça donne un coup de vieux.

Ensuite, c'était il y a deux jours la fête de mon filleul. Il a maintenant dix ans. Ca aussi, ça donne un coup de vieux. Il m'appelle encore "parrain" et ça me fait fondre. Il grandit vite, mais aux dernières nouvelles, il était encore affectueux.

How time flies

A terrible cliché for a title, but I could not find anything better. Yesterday, the daughter of one of my best friends and the big sister of my godson joined Facebook. At 13. I remember holding her in my arms when she was a newborn. It is partially because she was so fond of me that I became the godfather of her brother. The other reason is that I have known their parents since my time in cégep, when they started dating. And now their older daughter is on Facebook. This was my moment of Memento Mori recently. Nevertheless, I am glad I can get in touch with her more often.

Le Jour du Déménagement

Nous sommes le premier juillet, ce qui veut dire, outre que c'est le début du mois de juillet et une certaine fête nationale, c'est aussi et surtout au Québec le Jour du Déménagement. Enfin, le jour où l'on déménage, d'habitude. Je n'ai assez ironiquement jamais déménagé un 1er juillet dans toute ma vie, au Québec ou ailleurs. Lorsque j'ai déménagé à Montréal en 1996, sur le Plateau Mont-Royal, c'était en août, avant que l'université commence. L'emménagement avait pris quelques jours, alors il n'a pas vraiment eu de pendaison de crémaillère en bonne et due forme. Vous voyez à gauche une photo du stationnement de l'appart de l'époque. J'ai pensé que ça serait approprié pour accompagner ce billet, avec le camion de mon père qui a le coffre grand ouvert. Je ne crois pas l'avoir téléchargée avant. Avez-vous déjà déménagé un 1er juillet? Si oui, vous pouvez écrire dans les commentaires en dessous sur votre expérience.

Avant de terminer ce billet, je tiens à dire que ce que le premier juillet représente encore plus pour moi, c'est l'anniversaire de mariage de deux de mes couples d'amis, dont les parents de mon filleul. Alors j'ai toujours une pensée pour eux ce jour-ci. Ce sont deux anniversaires dignes de célébrations.

Le frère et le filleul

La photo de gauche a été prise à ma propre fête, ce sont des cadeaux achetés et emballés par ma mère (elle sait s'y prendre pour l'emballage) et ils servent à illustrer mon propos. Hier, c'était la fête de mon plus jeune frère ainsi que de mon filleul. Coïncidence intéressante. Je n'ai pas oublié de les appeler pour leur souhaiter bonne fête, mais je n'ai pas pu rejoindre mon filleul comme d'habitude. Quelques observations:

1)Le temps passe vite: mon frère a 33 ans (l'âge du Christ) et mon filleul en a neuf. Ca ne rajeunit personne.
2)Je n'ai pas acheté de cadeaux pour mon petit frère (en partie parce que je ne sais pas quoi lui acheter), mais j'ai acheté ceux de mon filleul depuis quelques semaines déjà. Je ne sais pas si et quand je l'enverrai, je pensais lui remettre en personne, mais encore là ça me fait un peu honte de le donner de manière si tardive. Je suis paraît-il le meilleur parrain du monde. Je me le sens moins, à voir avec quel retard il reçoit ses cadeaux de moi.
3)C'est drôle comme je peux m'ennuyer autant d'un petit bonhomme que je ne vois pas souvent.

A portrait of Odin

Not so long ago, I had promised that next time I would blog about cats, it would be about Odin. Well, here it is. This drawing is on my fridge, among the many pieces of memorabilia and icons featured there, usually from my godson or his sister. This drawing was done by my godson, during my last time home. He wanted to draw something that would make me happy and to cheer me up because he knew Odin had died. So he drew this, from the pictures I had shown him of Odin. My godson has an eye for details: you can see the bush where Odin spent his time and of course, talking of eyes, the left white eye. At first, his sister and him were disgusted by Odin's eye, now they find it cute. Anyway, because I am proud of my godson's heart of gold and his talent as an artist, I have published his drawing on Vraie Fiction.

Lead figures and sharing memories

Here is another episode of my last time in Québec, I hope nobody minds. During the time of my stay in my parents' house in Chicoutimi, my godson and his family came see us for a Sunday roast. As the roast beef was cooking (for it was what we were having), his sister went to my bedroom's desk do her homework and my godson asked for some colour crayons to colour a drawing he had made. We couldn't find crayons, but looking everywhere we found some old toys and games in a cupboard, including these lead figures of Dungeons & Dragons stock characters and The Lord of the Rings. Back during my geeky teenage, we were using them as... Well, as nothing really. We just had them on display during the games, or on the mantelpiece, for fun. I had started buying them to my bros as Christmas presents, first trying to find figures resembling their characters, then more stuff to expand the collection. They really got into it. It served no purpose but to look nice, like some visual aid to build some kind of atmosphere.

And when I found them, in a box above an old, old, old puzzle box my parents must have given me when I was four, my godson got fascinated by them. He found them "super cool". Which is his expression for lots of things he gets into: Viking mythology, Harrods' figures of British guards, a book on whales he sees on the shelves, etc. But those figures, they were coolness made lead. He asked me one by one what they were, we took them all out of their box and placed them on the puzzle's box and I had to explain what each one was: this is a wizard, this is a ranger, this is a priest, this is a druid, this is a knight with a morningstar as a weapon, this is an ogre mage, this is a blue dragon (which blows lightnings, as any D&Dr gamer knows), this is a lich, this is a griffon, and so on. Of course, I also had to explain what the character or the monster could do and find the owner of every limb and weapon that had been broken. When it was all done, he asked if we should move everything back in the box. I said I would do it later, because I wanted to take a picture of the improvised display. His father told me that my godson is hyperactive, but when he gets his mind into something he remains quiet and focused. It is very true, as I could witness it then. I wonder if he will one day follow his geeky godfather and one day play Dungeons & Dragons. In any case, I am very glad he finds lead figures so darn cool.

A godfather/godson moment

I saw my godson and his family twice during my last visit to Québec: once in their place, once at my parent's place for dinner. He asked me then to read him the story of Sigurd and the dragon I had read a little more than a year ago at Christmas. I was impressed that he remembered it, remembered not finishing it and that he was eager to know the rest. Unfortunately, as my godson had forgotten parts of it, we had to start from the beginning again and we could not finish it... again. All the same, he enjoyed himself tremendously, like he always does. He seems fascinated by all things legendary. He is slowly getting, thanks to me, a modicum of knowledge in Norse mythology. Moral of the story: I may not teach my godson anything about the Catholic faith as in theory I should, but I am still the best godfather (as he said himself) because I help him develop his imagination and he learns plenty about the far more interesting Viking mythology.

Moose, deers and a great unknown line

This is a picture taken by the infrared cameras my dad and his brothers put in the bits of forest they own. They are hunters, see, and it is hunting season. I don't think my father ever killed a moose, but he did shoot a deer, a beautiful one whose head is now on top of the fireplace downstairs. My mother doesn't like it, as she finds hunting trophies a bit tacky. Last time I went home, at Christmas, I discovered that someone else did not like the head one bit: my godson. Moose, for some reason, are his favorite animals, he LOVES them. He also loves other cervids, as he does not really make a difference between them. So he saw the deer's head on top of the fireplace, looked at me with horrified eyes and asked: "Is that a real moose's head?" I told him: "No, that is a real deer's head, but the same family, yes." And then he asked, more horrified: "Who did this?" I told him that my father did, that years and years ago he went hunting and shot a deer. He said, emphatically: "Well, I think people who kill moose and deers are really nasty!" It made me smile, because he was very sweet. And since then I have wanted to make this a great unknown line. Looking at the pictures my father sent of the moose, I thought it was a good time. I did not repeat this to his own dad, because he would have probably told him off. But hey, I can blog it.

La Bataille de Valmy

Nous sommes le 20 septembre. Les Français savent sans doute ce que ça représente, mais je ne crois pas que le reste de mon lectorat le sache: c'est le jour de la Bataille de Valmy. La première victoire de l'armée française après la Révolution, celle qui a marqué un tournant décisif dans l'avenir de la nation française et a précipité la naissance de la première république. J'ai décidé de télécharger l'interprétation de la minisérie La Révolution française. La réalité était beaucoup moins romantique, mais ça demeure une grande victoire. En tant que républicain, je ne peux m'empêcher de l'aimer plus que bien d'autres batailles de l'Histoire. Et en plus il y avait un moulin à vent dans les environs. C'est joli, les moulins à vent. Anecdote à propos de la Bataille de Valmy: la mère de mon filleul a été nommée en son honneur. Sérieusement.

Gentle breeze

It is sunny and windy today. It is not very windy, only a breeze, but a constant one, strong enough to give a slight chill to the air. It is a beautiful time to be outside (so I will not spend much time in here blogging, not until the evening anyway). I wonder if the wind could be strong enough to fly a kite. I actually have one here, but it is not for me: I bought the kite as a birthday gift for my godson and will give him next time I see him. I often worry if he will not find it boring. But growing up, my father used to go with us on windy days to fly his kites. I would do it if I had a kite (for myself I mean) and if I knew the breeze was good enough for it. Maybe it is, but I an no specialist. I have very rarely flew a kite myself. I was more interested about seeing them fly.

Avoir hâte au retour à l'école

Petite anecdote apprise via Facebook, qui m'a fait penser à la question existentielle 196 (et en passant personne n'a encore répondu à la 199) ainsi que mon billet d'hier en anglais: une de mes amies de Facebook, la mère de mon filleul, dit que sa fille a hâte de commencer l'école secondaire. Qu'on soit impatient d'un retour à l'école, c'est rare chez un enfant (et un adulte?). Bien entendu, la mère est nerveuse. J'ai trouvé ça très drôle. J'envie ma presque nièce d'avoir du sang froid comme ça. Les débuts d'années me donnaient toujours des angoisses, mais le tout début du secondaire encore plus. Tout de même, ça me donne confiance en l'avenir de la civilisation humaine, du moins sa survivance.