Generations of friends

Today, we went to see friends of my wife (and my friends too now) and their families, to celebrate the birth of my wife's friend's baby, her third one. So there was there today: our own family, made of three people, the hosts' family, the two parents and their two children, a boy and a girl, and family the friend and her three children, a boy and two girls. The husband of the latter was home sick. They have all known each other since university and our children have known each other since birth. In spite of geographical distances, they all kept in touch and our children are already creating a very important bond together. This is what I thought about today.

Des lunes et des hommes

C'est la pleine lune ce soir, ce que je souligne parfois. Si la lune est la compagne du poète peu importe son quartier, lorsqu'elle est pleine elle est l'objet de beaucoup de superstitions, mais aussi de légendes urbaines. Voir cet article du Journal de Montréal pour un survol. Je n'ai jamais prêté foi à ce qu'on dit sur les effets de la pleine lune, même quand j'étais un enfant superstitieux et à l'imagination fertile, mais j'avoue que l'idée de la pleine lune ayant des effets réels sur nos comportements est amusante, à défaut d'être plausible.

Serpentine dragons

In modern days, we often imagine dragons like modern medieval fantasies describe them: a hybrid creature with lizard-like body, bat wings, sometimes horns, etc. But in folklore, dragons were often "worms", or, to be more precise, snake-like in their appearance.

I had the chance to see one of these types of dragons in Bute Park in Cardiff. It was near the camouflaged one. While the snake-like dragon was not nearly as impressive, I still noticed it before the other and could not resist take a few pictures of it too. His face is more benign, but like all serpents. I suspect it is a ruse. He looks very dubious and I am certain he has a few nasty tricks up his sleeve: he is long enough and thick enough to ensnare a human being and choke him to death, he can maybe crush his bones in the meantime. His mouth is wide enough to swallow a child and, like most dragons, it must breath fire when needed. Oh how I wish we had such creatures in the parks where I was growing up!

Cervidé préhistorique

J'ai pris cette photo au National Museum de Cardiff. C'est un squelette de cervidé et son apparence était familière au Québécois que je suis. Je n'ai pas pris la notice en photo, mais on disait que c'était les restes d'un chevreuil datant de la préhistoire. Je trouve que les bois ressemblent beaucoup plus à ceux d'un orignal. Dans tous les cas, il a l'allure terrifiante et majestueuse à la fois et je voulais partager la photo ici..

The tea situation at work

So I survived my first week at work. In fact, I can safely say that I managed to strive: my direct line manager was impressed by the progress I made in such a short period of time, how I easily found my place in the company and how I already brought things on the table. There is only one thing I am truly struggling with: the tea. See, the tea brought by the bosses is PG Tips. And I am not a big fan of PG Tips. Let's speak frankly: it's rank. And on my first day I bought a bag of Typhoo in the nearest convenient store on my way to work, not thinking there were stocks of tea available for everyone at the office. And Typhoo is just as nasty. So I need to find something for next week. I can use the vile brews for a bit as I need my daily fix of caffeine, but I will need something drinkable before long. Nothing too fancy, but a tea I can enjoy. And share with my colleagues of course, as they don't have to suffer.

Redécouvrir la marmelade

Photo prise dans le Derbyshire, lorsqu' on avait été invités par l'amie d'enfance de ma femme et son mari pour une fin de semaine. Ils nous avaient offerts des confitures bien typiquement anglaises pour mettre sur nos toasts pour déjeuner et... de la marmelade Rose's. Et en regardant les photos, je me suis dit que ça fait un bail que je n'ai pas mangé des toasts à la marmelade au déjeuner (ou n'importe quand), surtout pas de la marmelade de qualité. Il fut un temps où j'en mettais sur mes toasts chaque matin, après la toast au beurre de pinottes obligatoire pour me donner de l'énergie pour la journée (et parce que c'est tellement bon). Je ne sais pas trop pourquoi j'aime la marmelade, mais parfois j'ai vraiment des rages de certaines choses.

"Indian Sandalwood" or the exotic aftershave

Since I am in the UK, I had to change aftershave, as the one I used to buy back in Montreal is not sold anywhere here (I generally buy local, see). So last year, I found out in John Lewis an aftershave from Crabtree & Evelyn called Indian Sandalwood. I have no idea what's so special about Indian sandalwood, but I thought it smelled nice enough and there is an elephant on the label of the bottle. Like one carrying people and cargo. I guess the elephant is meant to carry sandalwood. I wonder if I was not a sucker for a clever marketing ploy and I just chose the aftershave for its label.

Des paroles en l'air?

Je viens de lire cet article sur La Presse en ligne, qui dit que l'aéroport Montréal-Trudeau promet moins de temps d'attente aux douanes dans l'avenir. Permettez-moi d'être sceptique, surtout quand l'article parle de respecter le délai de 20 minutes. Ah oui, il y avait déjà un délai maximal? J'ai passé les douanes de bien des pays, ceux de Dorval (oui, je l'appelle encore par ce nom) sont de loin les pires, surtout durant les Fêtes. Et les douaniers ont les pires airs de boeuf (prononcer: beû) de l'Occident. Ce qui ne change rien au temps d'attente, mais ça n'arrange rien non plus. Alors donc, des délais réduits, enfin je veux dire respectés... J'ai comme un soupçon que ce sont des paroles en l'air.

A Vision of Battlements

To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Anthony Burgess, his very first novel, A Vision of Battlements, has been re-edited, among other works, in hardcover. Which means that I will have it asap. I don't know when I will read it exactly, but it would be fitting to read it this year. I have always been curious about it. His first novel means, in a way, his literary birth, or his first literary child. Emulating James Joyce (Burgess' favourite writer) A Vision is a rewriting of The Aeneid, which I read, but decades ago. So I wonder if I should not revisit the epic poem first, or have it at hand here as a work of reference. In any case, I encourage you to cease the opportunity to buy it and discover it like me. And here is a promotional video, which gives you a foretaste of the work:

Un peu de Mafalda

Tiens, j'ai envie ce soir de relire Mafalda de Quino. Malheureusement, je n'ai pas les albums ici. Il faudra bien me refaire une collection pour qu'elle soit prête quand petit loup sera en âge de lire. Je l'ai souvent dit, je le répète, Mafalda a un humour pessimiste mais jamais désespéré qui est profondément cathartique. À défaut des albums complets, je peux bien entendu retrouver certains gags sur Internet et les partager ici.

Why I still love the USA

It is Independence Day today (the day, not the movie). Usually, I wish happy Independence Day to my American friends and readers and that's it. This year, with the Swine being POTUS, I know many of them don't feel like celebrating. And those who do, if they read my blog, well, they might be blind admirers of the Swine, like sadly there are too many. I even had the honour (sort of) to receive the visit of one on this post about the Swine. This is what the troll (lynney62, let's name and shame her) said in a comment:

"Sad that you are filled with such ugliness and hatred that you can't appreciate a momentous day in America's great Republic of freedom. If you dislike the historical ceremonies of America so much...why are you living in this country? Wouldn't you be happier in some other country such as Venezuala or France?"

This was my reply: "@lynney62-I have never read on my blog, even from other trolls, a comment as stupid and ignorant as yours. For your information I don't live in the US but that is a country that I love and admire. And unlike you I would never ever confuse the country from its government or its most unsavoury citizens or leaders."

In essence, and I am writing this as a sort of commiseration for all of those who read this and despair that Trump is president, this is why I love the United States nevertheless. Because the American people is not its current president, in fact let's not forget that he lost by a wide margin the popular vote (and got there with some foreign help). I love them because of things like this. Because my favorite actress is half American from her father and she is also a beautiful human being in her own right, regardless of her amazing talent as an actress. Because in spite of its religious fundies, its vulgar, loud mouthed narcissistic reality TV stars turned politicians, despite its trolls (yes lynney62, I am referring to you), the USA has intellectuals,great writers, secular humanists, free thinkers and overall, sane people.

Et les orages?

Nous déjà sommes en juillet (depuis peu, me direz-vous, mais c'est tout de même déjà) et j'attends toujours depuis le début de l'été un vrai de vrai orage. Ou même un orage modeste. Je crois qu'il y en a eu certaines nuits, enfin peut-être, mais je n'en ai pas été témoin. Or, un été sans orage, c'est comme un été perdu. Je commence à me désespérer qu'il y en ait un.

Another first day at the office

Well, it finally arrived, the day I was expecting and dreading at the same time: first day in my new job. I had slept little the night before, dreading anything and everything, but in the end the commute went fine, they had not changed their mind and well, it all went well. I survived my first day at the office. It was an easy enough induction, as I have as much to teach them to the service they want to build as they have to teach me about the company. And it is a small company of a dozen of employees or so, so it's a nice contrast from where I used to work before, an international corporation. I needed this change of air and of pace. Luckily enough they all seem pleasant so far. All I need to do now is remember all the names. As for the rest, I will slowly settle in. For the record, I found the tea mug I was looking for to make it my "work" mug. It's an old mug I had completely forgotten. There are more things I am planning to bring to feel at home at my desk there, but the mug is a start.

Quoi faire avec des fraises

Je reblogue sur les fraises, parce que c'est la saison des fraises et que c'est une raison comme une autre pour vanter les fraises de l'Ile. Parce que ce sont les meilleures, point. J'ai mangé des fraises de bien des façons: en shortcake, avec de la crème, du sucre d'érable, même trempées dans le vin rouge. Mais ma manière préférée, c'est encore sur les toasts, en confiture improvisée: tu les équeutes, tu les piles avec une fourchette, tu mets du sucre seulement si c'est absolument nécessaire (mais comme les fraises de l'Ile sont naturellement sucrées c'est rarement nécessaire), puis tu les étends sur des toasts. C'est une "recette" que je tiens de mon père.

Dragons in the park

I took this picture among many in Bute Park in Cardiff, where this dragon and at least one other dwells. I think it's a dragon anyway, and a rather large one, yet very well camouflaged in the park. Dragons are very clever creatures. I will probably blog about dragons more often these coming days, as we met many in our short stay. I don't know anything about this one, except that for a monster this size (given the proportion of what we can see of his head), being so well hidden is quite an accomplishment. I did not even see it at first, my wife found it.

Un espadon et un souvenir

Photo prise au National Museum de Cardiff. Je ne suis pas certain si c'est un vrai de vrai espadon empaillé, mais dans tous les cas c'est impressionnant. Quand je l'ai vu, j'ai eu un souvenir d'enfance très vif. Mon père avait une chaloupe pour aller pêcher et elle s'appelait L'Espadon. Il semblerait que tous les bateaux, même les plus modestes, aient un nom. Avant et après ses voyages de pêche, la chaloupe était amarrée (?) dans l'entrée chez nous et nous y passions souvent beaucoup de temps, mes frères et moi, à jouer à pleins de jeux d'aventure, la plupart du temps aux pirates. La chaloupe devenait alors dans notre esprit un grand navire, toujours appelé L'Espadon.

Crimes in the train

I took this picture in the National Railway Museum of York and since then I have been wanting to write this post. It is similar to many blog posts I have written through the years, because it is one of my obsessions. Incidentally, the NRM is having a Mystery on the Rails season. I have never read Carola Dunn's novel or indeed any of her books, but I read plenty of crime novels set in a train. Crime fiction and train travels go hand in hand together: a setting that is both closed and in motion, which can bring out a nice feeling of claustrophobia and in the meantime dynamism and suspense, not to forget drama. Unfortunately, as I mentioned here, it is too often associated with cosy whodunits. I find stories that build on suspense and have genuine characters, not stereotypes far more satisfying. There are plenty of them set in parts or exclusively on the railway. Which I try to find and read... When I travel by train.

Question existentielle (307)

Celle-ci est d'une profondeur inégalée jusqu'ici:

-Quelle est la différence entre vert olive, vert forêt et vert khaki?

Avoiding Bieber

The evening before we left Cardiff, I asked one of the hotel staff about the time of clearing the room. After he told me, he said that we would miss Justin Bieber, who was going to give a concert the next day. I replied: "What a narrow escape!" I am not even joking: the lobby was already crawling with fangirls when we left. Anyway, I am glad, so very glad in fact, that we missed that one. And what I said deserves to be a new great unknown line. It was indeed a narrow escape.

Pas le Jour du Déménagement

Vous aurez sans doute deviné où j'ai pris cette image. Je la partage aujourd'hui comme première image du mois de juillet parce qu'elle convient à ma situation en ce moment. Sauf qu'il ne fait pas beau, je ne suis pas assis dans mon jardin à siroter un cocktail. Mais aujourd'hui c'est le Jour du Déménagement au Québec. Pas ici en Angleterre, quoique l'année dernière nous déménagions officiellement dans notre nouvelle maison cette journée même. Un an déjà donc que nous sommes propriétaires. J'en suis heureux, mais avec tout le barda que ça a fait pour déménager, je ne veux pas revivre ça de sitôt. Certainement pas à chaque année dans tous les cas.