Whatever happened to the maypoles?

Today is the last day of May. How time flies and how was your month? Mine was good, but in one aspect disappointing. You remember me blogging at the beginning of the month about maypoles, this folkloric fertility symbol that used to be fairly common in the UK. I said then that I wanted to see them and my objective for May 2019 was to search for them and find them. Turns out, if there are any nearby, they escaped my attention. Maybe I did not look hard enough, but they seem very elusive. Whatever happened to them?

Bouquiner sur le trottoir

 J'ai pris cette photo sur la page Facebook de la Bouquinerie du Plateau.Signe que l'été arrive, selon leurs dire en tout cas: ils font leur première vente de trottoir. Si j'ai souvent acheté des livres chez eux, à mon souvenir je ne l'ai jamais fait lors d'une vente de trottoir. Il faudrait bien que je le fasse un jour. Sinon, je m'ennuie des librairies de Montréal et de celle-ci en particulier.

Crime writing

This coming Saturday, it will be my third creative writing workshop. And I am actually dreading it. I will explain why and this post will be a sort of catharsis I had been wanting to write it for a while. After the first one, I was enthusiastic. The second one left me deflated and feeling a bit cheated. The reasons are the following: we had been asked to write no more than 2,000 words to share, due to time constraint. I had been requested to write a synopsis of the novel I was inspired to work on during the first workshop, so I did write one. Since 2,000 words was the limit, I thought about writing a detailed one, not only describing the plot but the main characters, the setting (Montreal and its crime world). It ended up being more like detailed note than a brief synopsis, but it was within the limit. As I still had plenty of words left, I also decided to write a bit of prose to flex my muscles. I wrote them too late, too fast, it was not very good, but I decided to share them anyway.

So come the day of the workshop. The synopsis, which had been the bulk of the work I had done, was barely glanced at. They went into the draft, not even a chapter, about 800 words all in all, the one I had spent less than a week on and which was to be honest not very good... And they pretty much ripped it apart. One of the writers said that one of my female characters, described as a tomboy in the synopsis, did not have a tomboy's name, in fact her first name was too posh and ladylike. I was tempted to tell him to ask her parents why they decided to give her that name. I simply said that I disagree. Then one of the women there said that my male character, a former police officer in his 30s, was sexist and a dinosaur and should not be written like this. I said that is how he came to be, that I imagined him like this, that I did not care about him being nice as long as he was believable. Then they said he was anachronistic, that "a man in his thirties does not think like that nowadays" (surely it depends of the man!) and they went on a tangent about Life on Mars where then such character made sense and I was simply speechless. Absolutely stunned, in fact. I remained polite, but left the workshop feeling short changed. When I got home, I was fuming. I wrote a long email to the hostess telling her that I had been sorely disappointed after the ordeal and why. She replied back to me politely, but that any criticism was meant to be helpful and not to take anything personal, etc. I replied back that while I was always open to criticism, however harsh it can be and that I had been indeed used to it both in creative courses at uni and acting classes, what I received was anything but helpful or constructive.

So yes, that's that. I might be too sensitive, I don't know, but I thought the whole thing was absurd. Since then I have written jack of the novel. I am officially suffering (aspiring) writer's block. Which is really sad, given that I was so on fire after the first workshop. I will show them an abstract of something I wrote a few years ago. If they like it, fine. If they don't well, then screw it, I won't waste anyone's time or kid myself. Maybe I overestimated my skills as a (wannabe) writer, maybe I just can't take criticism, but I did feel cheated. Okay, rant over.

Une promenade en tracteur

Mon fils a un certain nombre de choses qui l'obsèdent, la plupart d'entre elles sont des véhicules: les camions, les voitures, les trains et les tracteurs. Récemment, il a pu faire un tour de tracteur, en tout cas dans un chariot tiré par un tracteur. Je me rappelle vaguement avoir vécu ça aussi étant enfant, mais je me rappelle pas des circonstances. Je n'y étais pas quand il a eu sa promenade en tracteur, mais j'ai eu droit à cette photo de la bête. Imrpessionnant, surtout pour un enfant de deux ans.

Pic's Peanut Butter

During last week's grocery shop, I stumbled upon Pic's Peanut Butter. I did not know this brand and, as I am always on the lookout for good peanut butter (I do miss Kraft though), I bought a pot, even though it was not cheap. According to its label and the website, it is gluten free, has 25% more good fat, 26% pure protein per serve, no added sugar, no added preservatives, emulsifiers or flavorings and so on. In fact, it boasts so much about its quality that I said on Facebook: "If it is all it says it is on the label, I’ll be in protein heaven." Which deserves to be a great unknown line. So anyway, I tried it for breakfast and to my surprise it turned out to be true. So I was in protein heaven. And Pic's Peanut Butter is my latest happy gastronomical discovery.

Singe à sonnette

Photo prise au Cardiff Castle. Je regardais les photos hier et j'ai pensé la partager ici ce soir. Ce singe de bois avait une noix ou en tout cas quelque chose dans la gueule, qui était en fait le bouton d'une sonnette pour appeler les domestiques, si je me souviens bien. Ingénieux n'est-ce pas? Je ne crois pas que la sonnette fonctionne encore.

Action Men on duty

I blogged before about the Action Man bookends which I bought at a bargain price (£5.00) last year. Well, it turns out that I finally put them to good use. This is not perfect, but here they are, actually holding books, and looking super cool by the window. The choice of books is not perfect yet, I will need to select more titles that are action and adventure oriented, but that is a start. In any case, and unlike my Action Man who is still in his box, these soldiers are on duty.

Tiramisù

Je n'aime pas le café, sauf parfois en Italie, et parfois aussi en dessert. En fait, s'il y a une manière de me faire consommer du café, c'est de le mettre dans un mon tiramisù. J'en ai mangé un fort honnête récemment chez Prezzo (une chaîne assez ordinaire au demeurant). Il paraît que mon frère Andrew en fait un excellent, mais je n'ai jamais eu l'occasion de manger celui qu'il fait jusqu'ici.Et je termine ce billet de pure food porn avec un mot: je sais que j'épelle tiramisù tout croche et qu'en français ça ne prend pas d'accent sur le u, mais je préfère l'italianiser.

This week has four days

Yesterday was a bank holiday, so this week will only have four days. That is pretty nice: we just had a three day weekend, then only four days of work. Adding to this that the schools are in their midterm, which means the bus I use for my commute to work will not be overcrowded. Hopefully (touch wood), this week will not be too busy either, so it can go quickly. I know getting busy makes time fly, and I hate inaction, but I have a confession to make: there are times in the year when I don't feel like working much and this is one of them.

Le soleil d'été

Photo prise au Cardiff Castle. Comme de coutume, je la partage ici parce qu'elle sert mon propos. Il ne fait pas très été ces temps-ci, par cela je veux dire qu'il ne fait pas très chaud. Pas vraiment froid non plus, mais on a eu des printemps plus doux si tard dans la saison. Mais le soleil lui est ici, mpeme s'il n'est pas plombant, et il y est de plus en plus longtemps. Le soir tombe lentement et tard. L'été est donc imminent et je suis peut-être la seule personne ici qui l'attends avec une certaine appréhension. Je n'aime pas les journées longues et les nuits courtes et je crains encore plus le soleil plombant. Celui que l'on a eu jusqu'ici me va très bien en fait, et j'espère que l'été qui s'en vient ne sera pas trop chaud (l'été dernier à par ailleurs été une vraie torture à cet égard). Suis-je le seul à penser comme ça?

Secret alleyway

I blogged before about the secret passage leading from our back garden to the street, basically a narrow alleyway used to move the bins in and out. Well, there is an alleyway in town, a much larger one, that goes from one park to the other side of the main street and it is very well hidden. You have an opening in the walls that seem to be leading to a private property or some enclosed area, instead you end up walking this long outside corridor. I don't think that many people know about it. I knew of some such walks in the city where I was growing up, paths and alleys that made you feel like a bandit or a smuggler following some shady roads, but nothing that fancy. I had a wild imagination as a child, I still do, so I always a shiver of excitement walking there.

Les habits rouges

J'ai pris cette photo aujourd'hui dans le plus grand parc de notre petite ville. Il y a des mosaïques comme celle-ci pour souligner l'histoire de l'Angleterre et de la Grande Bretagne. Vous reconnaissez les habits rouges, sobriquet utilisé pour parler des soldats de l'Empire britannique à une certaine époque. C'est notre mot du jour.

An award for the local bookshop

Bit of local literary news: our town's independent bookshop won an award: Best Bookshop in the area. Having visited visited many in the area and made purchases in pretty much all of them, having appreciated their stocks, I think it is entirely deserved. I haven't visited it in weeks and I think last time I went I did not buy anything. My bookshelves are loaded, yet I feel bad about this. Time to go there I think. After all, it's the best bookshop we have around here.

Avec ma gueule de métèque...

Je vais le confesser d'entrée de jeu, je connais très peu l'oeuvre de Georges Moustaki. Mais il y a une chanson de lui qui me touche particulièrement et que j'ai essayé de faire découvrir ce soir à petit loup: Le métèque. Avec plus ou moins de succès. J'ai pensé la partager ici ce soir.

Robinson Crusoe

I took this picture in Cardiff Castle, in the playroom of the children of the Bute family which were covered with illustrations of tales classic stories(long story short). I wish I could do the same here for Wolfie's bedroom, but that's not the topic of this post. I recognised right away Robinson Crusoe, from the eponymous novel of Daniel Defoe, and his sidekick Friday. I never read the novel, but as a child I once read a comic book adaptation, present from my favourite child minder (the best in the world), which really fascinated me. I read it over and over again. I later saw a few barely memorable and very derivative  adaptations, but looking at this picture today it struck me that for all my childhood fascination I have yet to read the novel. I have a very busy reading program until the end of the year, but Robinson Crusoe might be on the one for next year. it could be a great summer read, come to think of it.

Corbeau

Mon père m'a envoyé cette photo prise par les caméras dans le lot de mes oncles. Un vrai de vrai corbeau. Enfin, c'est ce que dit mon père. Pour les différences entre les deux, lire ce lien. On voit beaucoup de corneilles au Québec comme ailleurs, mais les corbeaux on les voit moins. Je sais qu'il a mauvaise réputation, mais je l'aime beaucoup. Et oui, il semblerait qu'il y ait encore de la neige dans les bois au Québec.

Gincident

It's Friday, so it is time for drinking alcohol and for a bit of fun. I thought I would share a humorous chalkboard which I saw in the town of Thame, which we visited a few weeks ago. It was a lovely place, full of charm, and we want to visit it again. And there was this chalkboard on display, which I found funny enough to photograph. Sadly I cannot remember in front of which business it was. I don't drink gin very often, not since my year in Liverpool anyway (read the details here). It is not my poison of choice. Nevertheless, I can easily imagine how a "gincident" can be like. In any case, it is now the word of the day.

Tête de loup

Voici une autre photo prise au Apple Orchard à West Wycombe. C'est je crois une tête de loup, quoique ça puisse aussi être également une tête de renard, enfin peut-être. Mais je crois que c'est sans doute plus une tête de loup. Dites-moi ce que vous en pensez. Toujours est-il que, comme c'était le cas pour cette statue, celle-ci m'a beaucoup plu. D'abord parce que j'aime les loups, ensuite parce que rendrait un mur bien joli, à l'intérieur comme à l'extérieur, avec une décoration assez originale. Les loups, je les trouve naturellement élégants. Celui-ci donnerait un peu de classe à son environnement.

Feeling vindicated

Tonight, I voted at the European elections. My wife was not sure we should bother, but I told her it was important, so we did. There is another reason why I wanted to vote, why I want to vote to every election in my country of adoption. You remember I mentioned earlier this year a former colleague of mine in my current job, who was an arrogant jerk, a bully and whom I nicknamed the Snake. As I mentioned in that post, the Snake was a perfect embodiment of the Dunning-Kruger effect, an ignoramus who had more opinion than wisdom or knowledge to back them up. Back when we were on somewhat speaking terms and we were discussing politics (which means he asked me my opinion so he could bulldoze his own in retort), I told him I was pretty much a "free" voter in this country, affiliated to no party. He said: "But you cannot vote you're an immigrant". I replied that as a permanent resident and a citizen of the Commonwealth, I could vote in UK elections. I could have leave it there, but I was not too happy about his dismissive attitude. So I asked him if he understood what the Commonwealth was. He replied: "Not interested." Which means he had no clue. So tonight, I thought about that conversation and felt vindicated.

Question existentielle (345)

Une question existentielle inspirée d'une autre question existentielle, la 278, parce que je me suis rendu compte un peu tard (elle date de janvier 2016) que j'ai fait une grosse faute d'inattention. Alors voici ma question existentielle 345:

-Les fautes et les erreurs dans les billets de blogue qui datent, faut-il les corriger ou pas?