The architecture of the Kansas City Public Library 




inspired a group of young people to create this in Russia.



I wish they were my snapshots.

Sainte-Adèle, Qc and Street Art Work

When Moselito is with me on his Home Weekend, we have the choice of seeing a movie in one of these two theaters in Ste.Adele, a small town next to our village. The one on the left was build in 1948 and when 4 viewing rooms were no longer sufficient the owner build a second one with 3 viewing rooms, in 1995.  All Premières of Québec-made films are shown in one of these theatres, with artists attending.
This past weekend we saw 'Sarah Prefers to Run' which was screened at the last Cannes Film Festival.  I'm a bit worried.  Either I grew an extremely thick skin recently or the movie.......?  I can't ask Moselito's opinion. He was happily watching the action, eating his chocolate bar and asking for more.
      

the                                                

                                                                   Lac Rond was a source of drinking water, ice and food through fishing, horse racing and raw boat competitions and as late as 1943 was used as a parking lot for the winter tourists of Hotel Chanteclerc.  In 1960 it needed to be decontaminated and is since used for skating, snow shoeing and walks in winter.




Painting on a wall across from where we sometimes sit after the movie.

The no longer existing Ste. Marguerite train station - Canadian Pacific.

Now the tourists take a plane and fly to far away places. Coming up North is no longer the in thing.  My friends N. and V. from Montreal came up here for their honeymoon, more than 60 years ago. By train. Today a three-lane highway takes us down by car in 50 minutes.

 



On the left Séraphin, the village miser of  the novel 'Un Homme et son Péché' written by  St. Adèlois writer Claude Henri Grignon in 1933, on the right.
When we arrived in Montreal in1956 Séraphin was a very successful TV-series and re-runs continue to be shown to this date.










Les 'Draveurs' were considered the elite corps of forestry workers.
The word 'drave' derives from 'to drive', conduire les billots.
 

All well again with blog and Farmer's Market

           

I was going to change my picture but have not been able to find the spot where it's done. I'm tired of looking at myself each time I make a comment. Anyway, the photo is 5 years old and I seem to have aged 20 years in the last 5 and don't want to misrepresent myself even if no one cares what I look like. 


I went to our local Farmer's market this morning. Always go to the tables where two Greek nuns from a monastery nearby sell goat cheese,  vegetables , cookies, cakes, frozen meals and more. I know the older nun, Smily, a girl in her late twenties and always have good conversations with her. The only time she did not smile is the time I asked her if they still sold candles. She wanted to know what I use them for and seemingly satisfied with my answer promised to bring me some the following week (Saturday market only). I was not to tell anybody because she does not display them on the table anymore having learned that they are being used in witchcraft around here. Today I was told that she was resting in the truck. So, I talked with her assistant. A very young girl, big blue smiling eyes. She asked me questions and I answered. Learned a lesson - NEVER  talk to a YOUNG nun about religion NEVER tell a YOUNG nun that you were baptised on a Greek Island but that you are no longer Greek Orthodox.  My friend  in Montreal who is much involved with the Greek community , not religiously but business wise, tells me that quite a few mothers were saving up for the daughter's 'prika', dowry, and are now crying because the daughter ran away to the monastery.
I bought the 'spanakopita'-Spinach/Feta/Mille Feuille pieces that I wanted and left the brainwashed child with a customer.  

Wow, I googled Greek nuns and then Images and this one was amongst the ones that came up. It is the very one nun in her late twenties, at our Val-David market, that I am talking about.  


         

Theatre du Marais

 

 

In 1936 a group of vacationers from Montreal drained the marsh and build a synagoue  overlooking the Riviere du Nord.  Since 2001, this house of worship belongs to the Municipality of Val- Morin and has the mission to provide locals and tourists with quality entertainment.  The cozy little building is now equipped with 100 very comfortable seats, a stage and sound equipment. Whenever we attend a live artist performance we feel as we were entertaining them in our living room.

 

 

Picture by our Mayor Serge St-Hilaire

 

  

This is the movie I saw last week.
 

The story of an arranged marriage and an 'avant-gardiste' woman who, although submissive, will do anything to liberate herself.

Picasa

Getting this 'insert picture' gadget to work again was is a longwinded process.

I hope I'll remember how I managed to get this one to appear.

That's all I have to say for today.

                                          "The snails are for me please"
Thank you, RR.

It was

a very bad cold only.

I have been back to 'normal' for the last three days, busy taking care of things.
As soon as my neighbours realized that my car was moving in and out of it's parking space, they came to life.

Sunday, Mr. apartment #4  came to tell me that his wife/partner/colloq/who knows, it changes each time we speak, was in hospital again.     
In the same sentence he tells me that he can't take it any more and that she might not make it this time. She is in intensive care and would I have time to drive him to the hospital. Loud out I tell him that of course I can do that but at the same time I question myself as to why he can't drive himself there. As we get to the newly constructed round-point in the hospital town, he tells me that he can't come here anymore because this silly new thing intimidates him. When we were back home he came knocking on the door with a piece of paper in his hand which he had just pulled out of the mail box and asked me to tell him if it was anything important that he should keep.
Ms. #4 is attached to an oxygen tank and sleeps in the living room on the couch. It has been 4 years now. She lives two lives. When her eyes turn right she lives TV life and when she looks straight ahead she observes the goings-on at the tennis court and in our parking lot. Brave woman, never complains when she finds enough breath to speak. I don't want to know what he will do without her and I don't want to know that I may have to learn to say NO. 

Yesterday the eye doctoress confirmed that I can continue as is till my next appointment one year from now. Thank you.

Late afternoon Mr.# 4 dropped in to tell me the 4-day old news of  Mrs.Lovebirds from #14 having to call the ambulance to pick up her husband.  She tells me that he has weak lungs, that he caught the flu, that he fainted, that he is in intensive care with an induced semi-coma. When I mentioned that Mrs.#4 is also there she was surprised to hear that yes, the skinny woman that smiled back at her is the #4 lady whom she has never seen.

I am very grateful for feeling well enough to do some 'Driving Mr.#4'  and for knowing that the Lovebirds are of European background. It helps with making the right choices when offering some comfort food or picking up some flowers to cheer up Mrs. Lovebirds.     



   

Promises

I try not to make promises that I can't keep.

Sometime earlier this year I commented on one  of my dear friend's Rouchswalwe posts to the effect that some day I would write about my Iris plant.

Well, it no longer is. I only have one window in my apartment near which I can gather plants for their light feed. She was not happy with her spot.
She was handed to me at Christmas 6 years ago with a lovely note attached introducing Neo-Marika, a bit of pale green peeking out of brown. I should keep her near an east-side window and carefully watch her grow and develop as to not miss the 'one day bloom' event.
I did so.
My niece Iris who lives far away and only visits me once in 4 or 5 years announced her arrival. Aunt Ellena's joy was overshadowed by Neo-Marika's. She opened her arms with a triple bloom on the day that Iris and Mr. Iris arrived and became the centerpiece of the table.

This is how she greeted me when I got up on the morning of this special day.

And, I told 'Young of Heart' that I had a fox story to tell.

It felt like coming back to the fold when I moved to the country. 40 years of city life was enough and, I wanted to be close to Moselito.
At first I was afraid to cross the road by myself at night. It was so dark. Slowly I got used to the darkness. How exiting to rediscover the Great Bear and the Little Bear. Grandma had named them for me while I sat on her lap at the window.
The farmer way back across the road complained that chickens were missing and felt that something needed to be done to protect his hens from the fox. "What, a fox around here, that frightens me". Yes, he came to visit me.

                                             Sorry, no chickens to be had here.

And then, there is the story of the cow.
I'll never know how she made it across the street and up the hill nor what made her think that the grass was greener on my side of the fields.

Oh, how I miss the house where all this came about.

The 10 rights of a reader

The 'declaration' is affixed to one of the walls of our local library. 

1  -  The right to NOT read
2  -  to SKIP pages
3  -  to NOT finish the book
4  -  to read it AGAIN
5  -  to read ANYTHIG
6  -  to IMAGINE oneself as one of the caracters in  book
7  -  to read ANYWHERE  we want
8  -  to GRAPILLER (not sure) to pick bits and pieces
9  -  to read out LOUD 
10-  to read in SILENCE

Someone added this thought:  never make fun of the ones that can't read if you want them to read some day.  

And, I'm asking what's with looking up the ending?  From what I hear the majority of us readers takes the right to do that now and then.   

All Saints Day

                                                                                                                                        
Do I need to be reminded what day it is today?
 
Sainte- Sophie, Sainte Julie, Sainte Agathe, Sainte-Marguerite, Sainte-Lucie, Sainte-Adele,
Saint-Jerome are only a few of the many small towns and villages named after saints, here in the Laurentian Mountains of Quebec.
Then there are the places named Val-David, Val-Morin, Val-des Lacs....Val-this and Val-that. I live in one of the valley villages with a population of  3000  scattered  over an area of 39 square km. They tell me that it was a booming village years ago. Hills for winter sports, big hotels for good food and drink and vast cottage land for city folks.
Now, I need to drive 4km to the nearest food store.  After 2km ride I  cross streets named
St.Adolphe, Ste. Marie, St.Michel, Ste.Adele, Ste.Agathe, St. Jean-Baptiste, St.Charles. and St.Andre, one after the other, and then the street names become 'saintless' again.

Back where I grew up they would say  "Heiliges Blechle, that many saints surround you"?

Hm.......

Just finished reading today's Montreal Gazette.

The "Fukyu Sushi Bar & Restaurant" owners were forced to change name of this eatery. The name was said to be in bad taste by a Quebec Superior Court judge.
----The owner of one long-standing company in the building, which has a business selling urns, said in a letter that while he found the name to be "highly amusing" on a personal level, it caused him professional problems given the sombre nature of his work.
"As we are in the funeral business, I am not so sure that giving directions to clients who have recently lost a loved one by telling them that we are "two doors down from Fukyu" will go down very well with them. ----(Paragraph copied from Gazette).