Log Cabin Quilt Top
3 months ago
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.
We were invited today by a friend of my wife, a mother of twins a year older than Wolfie, to go to their place for an afternoon meal. She is a Canadian from Alberta married to a Brit and, while we don't know her all that much for now, she seems very eager to develop a friendship with us. My guess is that because our family situations mirror each other's: Canadians (not that I feel very Canadian mind you) married to an English person. Anyway, it was a very a pleasant time, their two boys were sweet and Wolfie enjoyed himself too. She had said to my wife that she had prepared (for the first time) a typical Canadian delicacy. I rightly guessed that it was Nanaimo bars. Now it does not come from Québec, or indeed Alberta, but I know Nanaimo bars very much as it was often parts of our Christmastime desserts in my family and the family of my friends. I don't remember eating them any other time of the year. So it was fitting and it tasted of home. It is a very nice dessert, shamelessly indulgent, full of sugar and so very easy to munch.
Once upon a time, before my brothers and I started playing role-playing games, we were very much into board games. To a point when they sometimes even influenced our make belief games. I used to ask for at least one board game as present at Christmas. One of my favourite has been Scotland Yard, which we received at Christmas 1987 if I am not mistaken. I was then, and I am still an anglophile and loved very much old fashioned crime fiction stories set in London and England and its police had a fascination over me. I didn't even know then that Scotland Yard was not even its real name, or even its real nickname anymore. In fact, everything about it being the élite of police in England was a tired old cliché. All the same, it was all I knew then of England's police life, or all I thought I knew, and it all seemed so exotic and exciting.
Je plogue souvent en anglais des livres à lire durant le temps des Fêtes, j'ai pensé queje devais le faire pour mon lectorat francophone. Tout ça pour dire que j'ai reçu il y a plus de dix ans La fête de Noël au Québec et que c'est devenu un incontournable pour moi, littéralement mon livre de chevet dans le temps de Noël. C'est un ouvrage encyclopédique qui couvre tous les aspects de la célébration en version québécoise. Pour le nostalgique comme l'expatrié que je suis, c'est le livre parfait, on en apprend autant que l'on se souvient de trucs oubliés.
'Tis the season to be drinking and I wanted to share online the rediscovery of one Christmas ale which illustrates perfectly in its name and its label one aspect of Christmas: Grumpy Santa by the Staffordshire Brewery. I drank it before, I think, but I remember mostly their Cold Turkey, which I did not like all that much. Then there's this Grumpy Santa, which tastes pretty good for a blonde (thankfully it's a dark blonde). But I bought it for the label and the name. Oh the name! Christmastime may be the most wonderful time of the year, there are moments when one feels tired, fed up, not in the festive mood and yes, grumpy. This beer is an homage to these moments. Let it be known: 'this (also) the season to be grumpy (sometimes).
Not a real one, but a model train by LGB. The snow itself is real, however. I found this picture on the Facebook page of LGB and thought I needed to share it as a Christmastime and winter post. When I was a child, in the weeks before Christmas, before the tree was up, we generally had our LGB train running in the basement on a network of railways set up by my father. It was a way to getting into the season mood and kept us patient through Advent. Of course we never ran it on the snow outside, but in our make belief games, it was winter anyway. This is partially why I associate trains and LGB models in particular to Christmastime.
J'ai déjà blogué l'année dernière sur ce bouquin publié par Série Noire et que j'ai vu par hasard à Olivieri du temps de mes études à l'U de M, il y a de cela vingt ans déjà. Je regrette amèrement jusqu'à ce jour de ne pas l'avoir acheté. J'espérais naïvement l'avoir parmi mes cadeaux de Noël cette année-là, mais je n'ai pas été exaucé, ou alors personne de ma famille ne l'a trouvé. Je vais reprendre mes recherches cette année, en espérant pouvoir le lire l'Avent de 2019. Mais je vais élargir mes recherches grâce à ce blogue. Si par hasard vous l'avez, ou si vous savez où le trouver en France, au Québec ou en Angleterre (sait-on jamais), faites-moi le savoir dans les commentaires.
...but it will do for this year. So anyway, we made the Christmas tree last Sunday. I thought the sooner the better, especially since we are stuck with an artificial one this year. We have had natural ones in the past years, sometimes, but this way before Wolfie's birth: because of his car seat, we cannot carry a natural one of a decent size in the car. I had forgotten how small our Christmas tree was. And how it smells of nothing. That said, I cannot complain too much, as putting it up was a real joy. Mainly because of Wolfie. At two, he is far more conscious about the Season and far more active than before, so he really, really, really had fun putting the decorations on. Or rather, bossing me around to put them wherever he wanted them to be.
Je ne sais pas trop comment on écrit le verbe québécois "tinquer" (ça vient de tank, alors ça pourrait être "tanker" ou "tinker", mais c'est bien ce dont il s'agit. Les caudeaux de Noël sont pas mal tous achetés, ou en train de l'être. Les décorations mises. Pour la bouffe, il faudra se préparer un peu plus proche du moment, mais ça vient aussi. Ne reste que l'alcool. Le défi, c'est d'en boire moins que l'on se stocke, pour en avoir assez aux vacances. Comme je ne bois que les fins de semaine, ça passe encore. Jusqu'ici, j'ai surtout acheté la bière de Noël de Marks & Spencer. Ce n'est pas ma préférée, mais elle se boit. Je compte me diversifier dans les jours et semaines qui viennent. L'Angleterre a une panoplie de bières festives, alors j'ai l'embarras du choix.
'Tis
the season to be reading and, as you may remember from the previous years, it means that I will suggest books for you to read during your Christmas holidays, or maybe ask for Santa to put under your Christmas tree. Today's suggestion (and the first this year) does
not have so much to with the Season as it as with the season. I long
for a proper winter and what's more wintery than Antarctica. So the book I suggest is Whiteout
by Greg Rucka, illustrated by Steve Lieber. I blogged about it and its sequel last week, I thought it was just as fitting for a Christmas read. In this graphic novel the continent is pure winter
nightmareland. Be that as it may, the protagonist, U.S. marshal and tomboy (you can even say butch)
Carrie Stetko, has made the Ice (as it is called) her home. Then someone
gets murdered. You have blood on snow, isolation, blizzard, violence, a thousand ways to die a
gruesome death, a good deal of international intrigues and a dash of espionage to give it some weight as well as authenticity, there is a lot to love here. Whiteout is not only a great thriller, it's an intelligent one.
Aujourd'hui, nous sommes le premier jour officiel de l'Avent. J'essaie donc de me préparer à Noël du mieux que je peux: acheter les cadeaux, mettre les décorations, mais aussi trouver la nourriture pour les Fêtes. ce qui va me manquer, comme toujours, ce sont les pâtés à la viande, l'un des incontournables gastronomiques de Noël au Québec. Il y a quand même des variantes ici, mais je me demande si je ne devrais pas prendre mon courage à deux mains et essayer d'en faire. Ceux que vous voyez sur la photo ont été cuisinés l'année dernière par mes frères PJ et Andrew ainsi que par la blonde de ce dernier. Je n'ai jamais eu ni la patience d'en faire, ni l'énergie, ni vu l'intérêt, ma femme étant végétarienne. Cela dit, lors de notre dernier Noël au Québec, nous avons découvert que notre petit loup était friand des pâtés à la viande, alors je ne serais plus les seuls à en manger.