A sweet little girl

Today we were visiting another preschool with our son. This time it was an appointment, bot on a open day like last time. It will be a difficult choice in the end, as this one has a lot of good things going for it too. And we haven't seen them all yet! The children were very curious about Wolfie and these two new adults they hadn't met. They were very sweet. One little girl in particular, with a very severe strabismus (one of her pupils was completely inward), wearing glasses already at age three, talked to me. I say talk, but truly whispering is a more accurate term: she was whispering questions and requests, asking my boy's name, my name, then telling her name. She asked me to help her in her games ("I want you to help me"), setting railways and stuff. She never smiled once, or barely, but she was just there. The staff was impressed, as apparently she is extremely shy and does not open up at all. When we left, she actually ran after me asking if I was leaving. I felt really sorry for her. I just can't help thinking her liability is already having a toll on her. Anyway, no idea what she found in me, but it was my good deed of the day.

C'est Aphrodite, pas Vénus

Nous sommes récemment allés à West Wycombe Park, que nous avons exploré quelques heures. Il y avait là de jolis petits trésors artistiques, dont un "Temple de Vénus", avec en son centre une reproduction de la Vénus de Milo. Et là je dois avouer, en tant que fan de mythologie grecque, que ça m'agace. Le nom, je veux dire: Vénus. Ce n'est pas Vénus. C'est Aphrodite. Vénus est la déesse romaine, la déesse grecque originale, celle qui a inspiré la mal nommée Vénus de Milo (je sais de source sûre que les Grecs l'appellent Aphrodite de Milo). Alors ça devrait s'appeler le temple d'Aphrodite, ce qui sonne quand même beaucoup plus sexy, en plus d'être exact.

The Seven O'Clock Man

The things you learn with a Google search. I was recently looking for information about a figire of Quebec folklore, the Bonhomme Sept Heures, who is our own Boogeyman. The Bonhomme Sept Heures, which translated into English means the Seven O'Clock Man, chases down children that are either not in bed at seven o'clock at night, or still out of the house after seven o'clock at night, or not asleep yet at seven o'clock. He takes them in the big bag that he always carries over his shoulder, to eat them in his lair, or to give them back to his parents. Sometimes, he just takes sands from the bag and throws it to the children to put them to sleep. So he used to scared the bejesus our of me when I was a young child. Since then, I have also been fascinated by the character. So I was googling about it, finding information about our beloved (in)famous boogeyman, when i discovered via this webpage that there is a horror novel based on him, aptly titled The Seven O'Clock Man. The writer is a certain Thomas Burby. Now I always thought the Bonhomme Sept Heures deserved a proper novel treatment. I don't know if this one does him justice, but I am very tempted to buy it. It will add beautifully to my collection of spooky books and it will make for an excellent Halloween read.

Le hot dog français

La fin de semaine dernière, nous sommes allés au marché français annuel. Ce fut une expérience décevante: pas assez de choix comparés aux années précédentes, des marchands moins chaleureux aussi. Nous sommes restés le temps d'acheter des olives, des desserts et un lunch, puis nous sommes repartis. Au moins, j'ai fait le bon choix pour le repas du midi: un hot dog franchouillard bien gentrifié. Une baguette et deux saucisses, des oignons frits et avec de la moutarde de Dijon en masse. J'ai partagé le pain avec petit loup.

Baking with Wolfie

Here is a new first for the family, or at least for me: I did some baking with Wolfie last Saturday. He had already baked with his mummy, but this time it was a father and son moment.We made a recipe of "galettes au raisin", which are basically raisin based cookies. It is an old classic from my paternal grandmother. The result was not great: I messed up the quantities, put too much sugar, too much butter as well, so the cookies were really thin, they got stuck together while baking and stuck to each other when I put them in a jar while they were still hot. But Wolfie loved baking with me. He did lots of stirring ("Me do it, me do it!"), had his say in the quantities ("bit more, bit more!") and overall was a great apprentice. And in the end, even though the presentation left to be desired, he really enjoyed the galettes.

Moi et le jardinage

J,ai récemment blogué sur l'état de la clôture, envahie par les mauvaises herbes. Je me suis décidé hier à la dégager et j'ai profité de mes dispositions soudaines pour le jardinage pour me débarrasser de bien des mauvaises herbes qui avaient poussé. Je me suis surpris à vraiment aimer ce qui devrait être une corvée. Je crois que je vais essayer de me laisser prendre au jeu et d'essayer de transformer le terrain vacant qu'est notre cour arrière en un jardin qui se respecte.

Binge-Reading

I recently read this opinion article in the New York Times, from Ben Dolnick, a writer I don't know at all. The title is: "Why You Should Start Binge-Reading Right Now". I let you read and appreciate the argument, but I wholeheartedly agree: I find binge reading far more satisfying, emotionally and intellectually, than binge-watching. It is unfortunate, and a bit shameful, that I don't do it very often anymore. So I am plugging his article to raise awareness among my readers and I have decided to preach by example and will binge-read as much as I can, just like in the good old days before the internet and social media. Binge-reading is also the new word of the day on this blog. I am doing this not merely out of duty, but because binge-reading is actually a pleasure.

La semaine de deux jours

Aujourd'hui, je me rends au travail après un jour férié... et après-demain je me retrouve en congé à nouveau, pour de courtes vacances de deux jours. Comme à l'habitude, je crains que je vais trouver le temps long d'ici à mon congé. Je me rends compte aussi que j'ai vraiment besoin de vacances ces temps-ci, que ce soit pour rester chez nous à ne rien faire ou pour partir en vacances. Cela dit, deux jours, c'est long, ou ça peut être long.

What to do on a bank holiday Monday?

Today is a bank holiday in the UK, so I am home, but we are wondering what to do. Not sure if it is because it looks cool and vaguely miserable outside, or because we lack energy, but we have no idea what to do and where to go. The roads on a bank holiday weekend can be quite busy, so we are hesitant to go out. It is a tad cool for a long walk. Or at least this is the excuse we give ourselves. I guess we want out but we also feel lazy, as it is often the case on a bank holiday Monday. Yesterday we stayed in and I did some baking with Wolfie (more on that in another post). It was quite pleasant, but we would like to vary a bit and go somewhere to go today.

"Felurs"

Mon père a pris des photos de la cour (avant et arrière) parce que des fleurs (sauvages?) ont poussé sur le gazon. Il a donné comme titre de son courriel "felurs", j'ai trouvé la faute de tape très drôle. Dans l'humour involontaire, je me contente de peu. Ici il fait plus vert, mais l'ambiance est moins printanière, parce qu'il fait pas mal plus frais. Mai n'a pas vraiment l'air de mai, il le sera sur Vraie Fiction le moment d'une photo.

Wolfie the railway engineer

I took this picture at the National Railway Museum of York, where I want to go again as a family as soon as possible. Because, as I mentioned a number of times, our little boy absolutely loves everything about trains: he chose a train calendar for 2019, he had one train set, he now has two (his mother's idea), he is very eager to travel by train.We went out yesterday to a sensory workshop, he spent the vast majority of his time building a railway with a train set similar to one of the two he has at home. Today, he played with them as well. It might be a tad early to tell, but his mother and I are starting to think that he will have a career as a railway or a train engineer. He is just so fascinated by them.

La jungle comme tapis

Ainsi que je l'ai dit il y a peu de temps, nous sommes récemment allés visiter une garderie pour petit loup. Il y avait une section avec ce tapis, supposé représenter une jungle. Bon, je lion n'est pas à sa place (c'est un animal de la savane) et je soupçonne que le crocodile n'y est pas non plus, mais j'ai bien aimé malgré tout. En fait, j'aimerais savoir où ils ont trouvé ça pour pouvoir en acheter un à petit loup.

Sensory pine cones

Today, we went to a sensory workshop with our little Wolfie, for babies, toddlers and slightly older but still young children. There were a number of sections, including one with a kind of woodland display, including these pine cones in a box. Wolfie was pretty indifferent towards this particular section, but since I love woodland, I absolutely loved it. Especially the pine cones. I noticed that it was babies with their mums who seemed to enjoy this woodland display the most. Some little ones were fascinated with the pine cones, touching them, sometimes chewing them even. It was quite sweet. I never thought before that pine cones could be used for early learning, but it makes sense, given their shape and texture.

En avion en famille

Photo prise dans le Derbyshire, je lamets ici parce qu'elle illustre un peu mon propos, enfin je dis un peu, mais je devrais dire très indirectement. On avait trouvé la "sculpture" bien étrange et pas très bonne, je crois qu'elle représente le vol et il est possible qu'elle ait été faite d'une aile d'avion. Toujours est-il que ça fait des mois que l'on n'a pas voyagé en avion en famille. C'est difficile avec un jeune enfant, ça complique les choses par mille, et puis notre petit loup a tendance à attraper une petite maladie à l'aller ou au retour. Mais je commence à trouver que ça serait le temps de voir d'autres paysages que ceux de l'Angleterre et puis je crois que plus on voyage en famille, plus on s'habitue à cette réalité.

The Three Little Pigs and Wolfie

I blogged recently about our visit to a local preschool which was very nice. Wolfie enjoyed himself very much and we might send him there. One of the many toys and games he enjoyed was this display of The Three Little Pigs. For him it was the pigs ("oink! oink!"), for his daddy, it was the wolf. I love tales involving a Big Bad Wolf. The had books of the tale to read, but Wolfie was not interested in them as much as he was with the pigs and the wooden blocks that served for the wooden house. I want to buy him one book of the story, so I can read it to him.

L'invasion du mur du jardin

Photo prise en fin de semaine du mur du jardin. J'ai toujours bien aimé la verdure sur le mur, mais il faut se rendre à l'évidence: c'est de la mauvaise herbe et elle a complètement envahi la surface. Si je n'y prends pas garde, elle va finir par le "manger" en entier et il me faudra alors en payer un nouveau. Je vais donc m'armer de gants de jardinage (oui, j'en ai), du bac de récupération pour la matière verte et de beaucoup de patience, et prendre le temps pour le désherber en fin de semaine. Le jardinage n'est pas mon fort. Pas que je n'aime pas les jardins bien entretenus, c'est juste que je n'ai pas vraiment de talent pour ça. Il faudra bien m'y faire.

Overeducated and underpaid

My wife sent me recently this BBC article, about a depressing and chilling piece of news: here in the UK, almost a third of graduates are overqualified for the job they have. I think this is probably the case in other Western countries as well. I find it disheartening. It is not my situation, but in these uncertain times it is never good news. And I have been in the same situation in the past, about ten years ago, when I was, ironically enough, working in education. This made me vow to never again work as a teacher. My heart goes to all these talented young people who are in dead-end jobs. I feel their pain.

Le français de petit loup

Hier, ma femme et mon fils ont rencontré l'amie d'enfance de ma femme, ainsi que le fils de celle-ci ("Uber", que mon petit loup adore et qui est son premier meilleur ami). Ils ont aussi rencontré (attendez, ça devient compliqué) le petit frère de l'amie de ma femme, son épouse à lui ainsi que leur fille, âgée d'un an. Or, l'épouse en question est française. Elle lui a donc parlé en français dans la plupart de ses échanges. Je ne sais pas s'il lui a parlé en français ou non, mais c'est déjà bien que quelqu'un d'autre communique avec lui dans la langue de Molière. Tout ça pour dire que je suis heureusement étonné de constater que le français de mon fils se développe de plus en plus. Wolfie parle (babille) surtout anglais, mais des mots français se glissent dans ses phrases.

The search for the maypoles

Today is the first of May. Not my favourite, but it has its moments. I have decided to get busy this month in one personal quest. Back in May 2016, I was wondering where the maypoles were. Maypoles are this very English/very British folkloric traditional objects, remnants of pagan times. One of these artifacts that fascinate me. Well, I will look for them this month, try to find the nearest ones and see them, and hopefully will blog about maypoles some more, if I am successful.

Mai: calembour atroce

Nous sommes le premier du mois de mai et j'ai décidé de le commencer par un calembour atroce, gracieuseté de mon frère PJ. Pourquoi commencer par un calembour atroce? Parce que j'en commets un à chaque mois de mais ou à peu près (genre ça). Celui-ci a été commis lorsque mon frère a répondu à la question existentielle 327: "Que lire en mai?" Il a répondu: "En mai, lis ce qui te plaît." Qui est une rime pas si mal, mais qui est aussi un calembour sur le proverbe connu... Et c'est assez grinçant.