Autumn in the evening air

We had dinner in the garden this evening, because it was lovely evening and not too hot. There was a breeze that was fairly strong and cooling down the air. And Wolfie wanted to play outside. But at some point as the sun was slowly setting, we started feeling cold and I had to get some fleeces and jackets for everyone. Then it was quite comfy. I know it is still very early, but it felt quite autumnal, as if the coming season was on its way. This is the second autumnal sign in less than a week. Maybe it is wishful thinking, but I think autumn will come early this year. We don't have very long to wait now...

Mercredi: le pire et le meilleur

Je déteste le mercredi lorsqu'il commence. C'est le milieu de la semaine, c'est là où la journée est à son plus pénible, mais une fois le mercredi terminé, on a plus de la moitié de la semaine passée. Je n'ai jamais beauoup aimé le mercredi, sauf peut-être durant mes années de cégep. Et au bacc aussi, parfois, à bien y penser: durant la première session de ma troisième année de bacc, je terminais la semaine le mercredi (!) avec trois cours (je crois), des cours qui m'intéressaient en plus et c'était le bonheur. C'est sans doute la dernière époque de ma vie où j'aimais vraiment le mercredi. Maintenant, avec un travail que je commence sérieusement à détester, je trouve que le mercredi est un long, long, long calvaire. Au moins, lorsqu'il se termine, j'ai l'impression (parfois à tort) que le pire de la semaine est passé.

Marlow or Medellin?

There are news headlines sometimes that make you jump, because the title seem so absurd. Here is one I saw last night from a local newspaper: a cottage the quiet little town of Marlow has been part of an international £17m cocaine smuggling operation. A cottage. In quaint Marlow. Sometimes I wonder if it has been twinned with Medellin. In any case, this headline is potentially great source of inspiration for crime fiction.

Question existentielle (349)

Tiens ça fait longtemps que je n'ai pas posé de question existentielle (depuis le 2 juillet), alors en voici une nouvelle. En espérant que je ne l'ai jamais posée:

-Que faire pour passer le temps et relaxer quand on est fatigué un soir de semaine?

Wolfie and the spider

Yesterday, right after his bath, I was drying little Wolfie with a towel when he started pointing nervously behind me saying: "Daddy, daddy, spider! Look daddy, spider!" I turned around, saw nothing. I thought he saw a piece of tangled hair, which he often confuse with spiders. Wolfie hates spiders, he fears them like his mother does and gets nervous every time he sees one near him. But I told him I could see nothing. He kept saying: "Look, daddy, spider!" I still could not see anything, so he finally said, with impatience: "Daddy hold Wolfie!" A sign that he feels insecure and wants reassurance that he is safe with me. So I did hold him, he pointed again and then I saw it, a spider walking on the rug fast pace, big, black one. It disappeared. behind a bedside table and we could not find it afterwards. Moral of the story: always trust your child's judgment and eyesight when he says he sees a spider. Especially when you are not wearing your glasses.

Trouvez la coccinelle

Bon, petit jeu bête et facile, mais le voici: trouvez la coccinelle sur cette photo. Mon petit loup a eu bien du plaisir hier à l'observer. Allez savoir pourquoi, il déteste toutes les autres sortes d'insectes et de bibittes (j'en dirai plus dans le prochain billet), mais semble adorer les coccinelles. Ça doit être la couleur rouge tomate. Moi, je ne les aime guère. Mais enfin bref, la petite bête du Bon Dieu ou la bibitte à patates l'a fasciné pendant un bout de temps.

Old Peculier (a beer and a crime)

Sometimes you discover new things in the most unexpected times and places. So recently, I had decided to drink an Old Peculier from Theakston for my evening's poison. It is my kind of ale: dark (supposed to be rich ruby red, but on this picture it is almost black), strong flavoured, not too high in alcohol (at 5.6%, it is juuust below 6, so it does not taste too much of liqueur). It would more fitting for colder winter days, but hey, I was eager to rediscover it. Because I had the beer before, of that I am almost certain of. But since I drank a wide variety of beers in my twenty years in the UK, I cannot remember precisely all of them. Also, I was sometimes not sober enough to truly taste them.

So I was enjoying the beer when I saw that sign on the side of the bottle, next to the label: a bloody fingerprint and this statement: "sponsor of the old peculier crime writing festival".This Crime Writing Festival. Now how cool is that? I was not aware of its existence and from the website I see no mention of a 2019 edition and the previous ones seem to have been in July, so this does not look good, however if the Festival still exists I'd like to attend it one day, if it still goes on. Real ales and crime fiction, the Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival seems to be made for me.

La cueillette des framboises

Mon père est allé cueillir des framboises chez son frère, mon oncle. Lequel est aussi le père de ma cousine Amy la photographe et donc le grand-père du cousin au second degré de mon fils. Cela vous situe. Et il a rapporté tout ça de la cueillette. Mais cela dit, cueillir les framboises, on le faisait chaque année chez mon oncle, justement dans ce temps de l'année. Mes frères et moi adorions. C'était un moment doux-amer pour moi: je savais que ça signifiait que l'été et les vacances allaient se terminer dans un avenir qui n'était plus si lointain. Ça demeurait un des moments forts de mes vacances, et un de mes préférés, justement parce que c'était l'un des derniers.

Silver lining

I haven't had holidays in ages, not since the last Easter bank holiday. I have very little leave allowance at work (one of the things that sucks there), barely more than the strict legal minimum in fact. So I choose my time off carefully. It has been all work and no play for a while and will be for a few weeks still. But I have book a few holidays soon and some more for later and we are getting closer and closer to them every day. So I can finally start seeing the silver lining. Well, that might sound a bit too dramatic, but it will be a much needed break, if nothing else.

Le nouveau look du chocolat aux bleuets

Mon père m'a envoyé cette photo de la nouvelle boîte des chocolats aux bleuets des Pères trappistes. J'imagine que maintenant, chaque nouvelle année ou à peu près amène son nouveau design de boîte. Je ne devrais pas me plaindre: tant que ça a le même goût. Enfin, à peu près le même goût: les bleuets ne goûtent jamais exactement pareil d'une année à l'autre et d'un endroit à l'autre. Mais vous savez ce que je veux dire. Cela dit, que pensez-vous d ces nouvelles boîtes?

The local bookshop's new bags

We went to the local bookshop yesterday, the first time in a few weeks. I mostly behaved myself: I only bought one book, although I saw at least three I was interested about. And I did not even buy their new bags. New bags might not be the accurate way to put it: they have new colours for their old brand of bags: blue and grey. Big, solid, sturdy bags capable to take many books. We already have plenty of bags bought at or given by the local bookshop and I had no excuse to buy new bags if I only purchased one single book. Not bags this size anyway. So it will be for another time. I might get them for friends and family. They look really good. And it is always good to encourage local businesses.

Marcher tout seul

Mon fils marche depuis un bout de temps déjà, mais  comme tous les petits enfants, il aime se faire transporter dans les bras de papa et maman. Ou alors, pour les longues promenades de chez nous au centre-ville, on le met encore dans une poussette. Mais hier, il a insisté pour marcher du centre-ville à la maison sur le chemin du retour, comme un grand. Vingt minutes. Enfin, vingt minutes et un peu plus, car il lambinait un peu parfois. Quand même. Je suis partagé entre la fierté et l'inquiétude.

First sign of the coming autumn

We were walking home from town earlier on this afternoon and I saw this on a tree. I cannot identify the tree, you tell me if you know, but it had three leaves that had indubitably changed colours, and not in a small way. It cannot be the drought, as we had our fair share of rain these last few weeks. The weather, apart from a few hot days, has been warm or cool overall. So I think these red leaves are the first sign of the autumn to come. Not so long to wait now.

Fleurs en feuilles

J'ai pensé partager ici ce soir une photo prise par mon père il y a quelques années de cela déjà lors de sa visite aux Mosaïcultures, parce que ça fait longtemps que je ne l'avais pas fait. La moins impressionnante du lot, peut-être. Quand même mieux qu'une cannette. Non, plus sérieusement, on parle souvent de plantes en fleurs, mais jamais de fleurs en feuilles, ce qui rend celles-ci au moins singulières.

Cherryade

I blogged last week (heck, last month now) about a soft drink of A.G. Barr I bought in Londis. Well, since then I tried a new one: their Cherryade. Which is, you guessed it, cherry flavoured. Like the (in)famous Cherry Coke, which I always found vile. That said, when I was a child, I did drink plenty of soft drinks with fruit flavours, mainly strawberry and orange, and I quite enjoyed them, so out of pure nostalgia I decided to try this one too. And it was... Nice in a disgusting, too sweet way. But I did enjoy it. One thing I noticed about these soft drinks, is that they taste exactly like you'd expect just looking at the can.

Le vendredi

Je ne suis pas le seul travailleur à aimer le vendredi, mais je me réjouis seulement arrivé chez moi. Avant ça, je crains toujours qu'une tuile va me tomber sur la tête à l'ouvrage. C'est un peu parce que je n'aime pas beaucoup mon milieu de travail (cela dit en toute confidence). C'est aussi que d'expérience, les mauvaises expériences professionnelles arrivent surtout le vendredi, dans tous les emplois que j'ai eus. Le vendredi, je commence à l'aimer à 5:30, je l'aime encore plus une fois la porte de la maison ouverte.

August and me

Today is the first of August. A month I used to dislike as a child, like I disliked Sundays: because it was an ominous time. August was the last month of summertime and of holidays. Now, I still feel a similar melancholy, but I don't dislike the month as I used to. It took me a while and a few years as an adult to discover some fondness for it. Now my holidays are not necessarily in August (although I often end up with a holiday break in that month) and as I don't really like summer. This year, I find the month rather promising. And you, how do you feel about August?

Se laisser tenter par le Salon du Livre

Petite nouvelle de ma région: le Salon du livre du Saguenay-Lac-St-Jean a révélé ses dates et sorti son affiche promotionnelle, notamment sur sa page Facebook. Je dois dire que j'aime vraiment beaucoup le design cette année: le serpent, la pomme, l'idée de la tentation de la lecture. C'est vraiment inspiré. Et puis les dessins ne sont pas grossiers comme dans certaines années précédentes. Je me laiserais bien tenter d'y aller, surtout que je pourrais utiliser mon laisser-passer à vie catégorie cégep (que j'ai retrouvé, si, si!), mais malheureusement, je vis un peu loin pour ça.

How much caffeine in tea?

Say what you will about David's Tea, I know not all their teas are good, I know they have been struggling financiall, but they do have their use. I found this picture and guide on their on their Facebook page. Now I can have a pretty good idea on how much caffeine content there is in what sort of tea. They also have an article on the subject on their website. Of course, it is calculated their brews, but one can easily extrapolate on their model. This will prove very useful when I want to know what I should drink as tea at what time of the day. It is also good to expand on my (rather poor) tea culture.

Pizza sur le grill

Mon père a fait des pizzas cette semaine, sur le "big green egg". Je n'ai jamais vu de pizza faite sur le grill, mais ça a l'air réussi. Et ça me rend envieux, rien que de penser aux pizzas que l'on mange ici, toutes surgelées ou achetées dans els commerces. Ça fait un bout de temps qu'on n'en a pas faite une à partir de rien.