Away From the Ocean

Go sit somewhere else...

2011-09-17T15:13:00.002-04:00

...this seat has triple occupancy.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

2011-08-20T07:46:00.002-04:00

Don't look for them in the morning: they're at the cafeteria.

Cat Days

2011-08-19T09:22:00.004-04:00

... and whiskers on kittens

2011-08-11T09:53:00.001-04:00

So I am still on vacation. And although the magic and fairy dust of when I've got the house to myself are no longer there, my days still go smoothly enough. My loved ones are so glad to be back they've stopped bickering so at least there are no conflicts for now.
I've ordered dozens of things online and I love the feeling of waiting to see what the mail will bring me each day.
"Brown paper packages, tied up with strings, these are a few of my favorite things!"

Good times

2011-08-08T16:02:00.003-04:00

Here is a photo of July 8. The quality is terrible, and you can't see it's pouring down rain. But it captures a moment of sheer exhilaration. May they be more frequent in my life.

Wake-up

2011-08-08T15:48:00.002-04:00

Alas, alas... I was supposed to have another 4 days of blessed loneliness. The 2 people I live with (yeah, my loved ones) are by the sea. But they are fighting, by the sea. So they have decided to come home. No doubt to fight home, instead. There goes my peace, shattered. There goes the serenity, the absence of tension and conflict, the intense happiness of the recent days. I was counting on those 4 more days. I'm bitterly disappointed. I will take the inevitable. But for now, allow me to be just bitterly disappointed.

The tomato-eating Cat

2011-08-05T12:55:00.004-04:00

There was this tomato on the counter, just minding its own business. Along came Elune. She licked the tomato, and then... started eating it!
Have you ever seen a cat start eating a tomato, not cut in biteable pieces but whole? What kind of weirdo do I have??

As you can see, I was so mesmerized I never thought of shooing her off. Thus was the tomato violated.

Then it was rush hour.

Enjoy the Silence

2011-08-02T10:03:00.001-04:00

Les gens heureux n'ont pas d'histoire... my days are flowing seamlessly. Tomorrow I leave for 4 blessed days by the sea, in Rockport, Massachussetts, like every other year. My shot of ocean, taken not intravenously but through my eyes, and ears, and nose and skin...

Here at home, I cannot convey the peace. I am completely alone human-wise, no calls, hardly an email. I have no schedule and all the time in the world to do the few things I have to do each day. I cook a lot and don't mind it because it becomes an activity in itself and not something bothersome to get out of the way. I talk to the cats. They talk back. There is no noise, no stress, no voice raised, no demand, no mess. The house is clean, pretty and serene. I am free as a kite, I answer to no one, I feel no pressure. Words fail me.

Home

2011-07-31T08:52:00.002-04:00

These are some of my Carl Larsson prints, in case they are too small to see.

At Home with Brigitte

2011-07-30T13:09:00.004-04:00

My family left for a 2-week vacation and I find myself blessedly alone, mistress of the house.

First thing I do is clean and decorate. I need to live in a beautiful environment.

This is a "before" picture. After, the cats raided the vase, toppling it, drenching the floor and stealing away with a flower. I came, I saw, I conquered and put things right again. To get even, Elune threw my yet-untouched Tim Hortons coffee on the floor, drenching it a second time. I called her all kinds of sweet names.
I also did a laundry, careful to add plenty of softener because these days, for some reason, I could shave with what comes out of the wash. Of course, I did forget the actual detergent but I consider that a detail. Heh.

I went flea market hunting and here are my finds:

A lovely old fashion tureen (complete with cover and spoon - not shown)

Two delightful cups and saucers. Their size is just between a cup and a bowl, which I love for hot chocolate and such...

What is that paw? The only visible piece of Chinook...

No Ordinary Day at the Office

2011-07-29T08:03:00.004-04:00

July 8th 2011 was the morning of the historical launch of the last shuttle mission ever, STS-135. My friend A. joined me to watch it on a big screen. After a nerve-wracking countdown stop at T-minus 31 seconds, Atlantis took off flawlessly. It was an exhilarating moment: the last launch of the shuttle era.

At noon, I got an email from my friend J.: “Picking you up at 1:00. We’re going to SkyVenture.” Oh? Oooooook. We’d been planning on going for 2 years but never found the time. Today was it! Rush home to change and prepare. SkyVenture is a wind tunnel that reproduces free fall conditions. In other words, you get to fly. Cool!!!!
It was my first time ever in a wind tunnel and I had a blast. If it wasn’t so expensive, I’d really enjoy doing that regularly. What the instructors can do when let loose in the tunnel is simply breathtaking. Gravity no longer exists. You have to see it.

As if this was not enough emotions for one day, J. and I then headed to nothing less than the U2 show at the especially set-up open-sky stadium on Montreal’s hyppodrome’s site. Eighty thousand people converged to the spot. It was a hot summer evening and I thought that should it rain a bit, it would be rather pleasant. Eighty thousand people in an cheerful and partying mode... it was a thrilling experience.

Photo: J. Hébert

I will skip on J. suddenly realising his memory card did not fit his brand new camera and our mad dash to find another memory card in time. One is never bored with J. We succeeded and the show was fantastic. Feeling the aluminum bleechers pulsing and waving under our feet like the deck of a boat on a rocky sea, 50 feet in the air, was also an experience. Several people had to leave because of that, either afraid or feeling sea sick.

Photo: J. Hébert

On the last note of the last encore, it started to rain lightly. What incredible timing! Then it rained harder. Within two minutes, the skies opened up and eighty thousand people suddenly found themselves scrambling under a torrential rain as heavy as India’s worst monsoon. We got soaked down to the bones in a matter of minutes, and the rain was cold and an icy wind swept over the site. Suddenly, people were freezing, teeth chattering, their skimpy summer outfits clinging miserably to their bodies, offering no protection whatsoever.

It was a surreal end to an extraordinary show. It was funny, it was crazy, it was freezing, and it never let down. Holding on tight to each other, J. and I walked back the mile to the car, our faces, hair and clothes completely drenched. “Watch out! There’s a puddle! Don’t get wet!” we would joke while walking ankle deep in the water on the street.

This, my friends, was my day, on July 8th, 2011.

Dead Woman Walking

2011-07-28T07:30:00.002-04:00

Yesterday at the grocery store, I passed a dark-haired girl in her early 20's. She was slowly pushing a big, nearly empty grocery cart. In a slow voice, she was asking the young teenage boy accompanying her: “Which bread do you prefer?”

She was wearing a t-shirt and her stick-like arms displayed the unmistakable fuzz of advanced anorexia. Her thighs were approximately the size of a muscular man’s biceps, and as tiny as her jeans were, the complete absence of buttocks made them hang awkwardly. She was by far the most emaciated person I have ever seen with my own eyes.

What was she doing there, pretending to casually be buying food? She should have been on a hospital bed, being fed intravenously and closely supervised by a psychiatrist.

For some reason, her pretence at normalcy got to me. I wanted to shake her. I wanted to point to her cart and ask: “Who do you think you are fooling?” I wanted to tell her: “Do you really think you are fat right now? because you are a walking skeleton.” I wanted to tell her: “Eat. Just EAT or you will DIE.”

At her weight and degree of cachexia, vital organs, including the heart, can fail at any time with no warning. She’s a dead woman walking.

I know nothing of her story. Will she live? Will she die? I will never know either.

And if I sound harsh, it's the anger of helplessness.

Peace to You

2011-07-25T07:28:00.002-04:00

Another weekend ended, and it was eventful, not in my quiet life but on the world scene. The massacre in Norway defies imagination. I find it hard to grasp that one man can kill 85 people, not blowing them up at once, but one by one, finishing off the wounded. Eighty-five people. I once had a dream, years ago, of myself lying down on the ground, and the bad guy just above me, pointing his gun. I remember the panic and utter despair in my mind, the knowledge of doom: “Nothing to do, nowhere to run, I am a second away from death, this is IT”. The dream was so clear and desperate I never forgot it. And now all I’m thinking is that it has just been experienced by dozens of people, just before their death, only they’re no longer there to tell us of the horror.

I read Hollywood gossip magazines, I brazenly admit it. It takes my mind off of things in a wonderful, harmless way. Three days ago, I read the latest weekly issue of Star/Systeme, a magazine from Quebec. It had an article titled: "Amy Winehouse Flirts With Death". The last sentence read: “If she doesn’t get a handle on things, doctors give her 3 months to live, which is very little considering she is only 27...” These magazines are always sensationalist. I read this THREE days ago. Then I turn on my computer and read “Amy Winehouse is dead”.

This my prayer, for the grief to abate at Morning Bray Farm, for the victims of Norway’s Timothy McVeigh and their loved ones, for a lost soul who checked out. Peace to you, alive or dead. Amen

Once in a while...

2011-07-22T20:04:00.004-04:00

... you meet someone. It may be brief, but a bond is forged. Balto was not in my life for a long time. He was there for 10 days only. But he was probably the sweetest puppy I have yet met. I mean sweet as in quiet, obedient, calm, endearing, completely trusting. He was a darling and he exited my life just as suddenly as he came into it. He was adopted by what I believe will be a loving family. Goodbye sweet Balto, have a good, long, happy life.

This is not a dead cat. This is Chinook being hot.

A Midsummer Evening

2011-07-22T19:50:00.003-04:00

Hot you say? Yes. I think 44 degrees Celsius qualify as hot. Disgusted, the cats are spread out on the floor, as floppy as they can be. The pool is so nice and warm that it actually barely refreshes the swimmer. The fans are working full time, full speed, full power, to little effect. But it still is a lovely summer evening... The only thing I could wish for would be fragrant roses. And a popsicle.

To cool off, here's a photograph from Jonah Gautier. Water, like sparkling diamonds...

In Summer Time

2011-07-21T07:43:00.007-04:00

It was Marie’s post about a fog horn… so evocative a sound... that made me want to start writing again.

It is the height of the summer. There’s a certain feeling of... freedom in the air. Yesterday, I had lunch on a yacht club restaurant’s terrasse. The wind was wonderful. Although very thin, the layer of sand under my feet reminisced of other times, other places. It was hard to believe I was in Montreal. For a short while, it carried me away, back to where the sea breeze always blows, so many yacht clubs, so many restaurants lined with sand... Bob Marley was unforgivably missing. I ate the cherry from my glass of a mediocre sangria.

“I used to know a Honduran parrot, I said suddenly, that just LOVED those maraschino cherries.”
My table cracked up. Because of my past experiences, I often have these really out of nowhere, off the wall anecdotes. My table cheerfully admitted nobody else had a Honduran parrot among their acquaintances. Heh.
But it’s true. His name was Paco. He loved cherries, and when in a really good mood, he’d keep repeating, in an creepy, ghostlike voice: “Goo awaaaayyyyyyyy”.

Today, we are forewarned of a tremendous heat wave. I shall be in my air conditioned office, then in my air conditioned gym, then in my pool. So I’m not too worried. And if we’re lucky, we’ll get some of these violent summer thunderstorms I love so.

I’ve still to tell you about the dog. About July 8th. Many things have been happening. It will come.

Loving Art

2010-12-01T13:31:00.005-05:00

I love paintings...

Introducing an eight-year old, Autumn De Forest (and what a romantic name):

Reading about her, at first I was reluctant to call her a "prodigy". Then I looked at her artwork.
Here are three of my favorites, painted at age 7:

'Garden'

'Dusk'

'Serenade'

Let's say I no longer argue about the use of 'prodigy'. May you have a long and intensely creative life, Autumn, for the world is more joyous for your creations.

You can see the rest of her art here.

Curiosity Soaked The Cat

2010-11-08T09:38:00.002-05:00

Chinook, quickly nicknamed « Chouchou », loves the bathroom sink. He’s in there excitedly every morning as I prep for work, and I often let a tiny stream of water flow out for his entertainment. He plays “trying to catch the water”. When his ears are good and soaked, he leaves the sink and sits right beside, and I can wash my face. His nose is about seven inches from mine and he looks on with tremendous interest.
I can actually hear him think:
“My human takes her turn playing in the water. That’s fair. Let’s study HER method...”
Let's note that his interest in water has already lead him to slip in a full bath tub not once but twice (and he didn't like it ONE bit!). A very curious kitten, this scallawag.

Not much sun...

2010-10-30T13:05:00.001-04:00

but the Lothlorien is all around us...

Clarification

2010-09-30T09:39:00.001-04:00

You don't need a parachute to go skydiving. You only need a parachute if you want to go skydiving twice.

Fall

2010-09-28T07:36:00.004-04:00

Fall has cometh. Dark skies, intermittent rain. The leaves are turning and I should not go anywhere without my camera, because every once in a while, on an anonymous corner, a tree will stand out in an explosion of gold or red, so bright, so perfect that it seemed to have been planted by elves overnight.

Every morning, before I get up, I get a ten-minute cuddling session from Chinook. He shows up in full purr when my alarm clock rings, so I press snooze and we settled down for some serious petting, kissing, purring, curled up in my neck like the little baby he still is. It starts a day well.

My feelings got hurt recently, and as usual when that happens, I’m longing for affection from the rest of my circle. Virtual hugs are welcome. I wouldn’t even mind a burro kiss or two.

By the way, I found a cure for insomnia. Recently I would wake up around 4 or 5 am and be unable to go back to sleep. So I decided to take advantage of that and go running at those early hours, to start the day well. I laid out my clothes and prepared my Ipod.

I’ve been sleeping like a baby ever since! LOL!

(Photo credits unknown)

Douce France, cher pays de mon enfance...

2010-09-23T11:39:00.001-04:00

I was in training yesterday. It was a one-day class called: “International Etiquette”. It included lunch in an uppity restaurant as part of the training.

We basically learned the minimum of good manners, with attention to North-American etiquette versus European. We learned how to eat with an Ambassador and not commit some gross blunder.
Having grown in Europe, where good manners are very important, and with parents for whom they were mandatory, I can’t say that I learn a lot of NEW things, but it was a solid review of stuff I had not seen, nor really practiced, in a long time.

The reason I was taking this training, in case you wonder, is because we often receive VIPs, at work, Canadian but occasionally Russian, Japanese, Chinese, American or European... Mastering good manners helps feeling confident with completely different cultures.

The teacher was a dumpy and unglamorous French-Canadian older woman, much to my surprise. But she had traveled a lot and she knew her stuff. She stated, matter-of-factly, that in France, and elsewhere in Europe, you WILL be scrutinized, evaluated, judged and catalogued on the sole basis of your manners.

I was the first time I heard somebody stating the essential reason I will not live in France again.

The French are so uppity about manners and good breeding. Yet put them in the streets, or in a crowd. Do you think they will good-naturedly and orderly line-up while waiting for something, like North American do? No, they will press and push in chaos, each man for himself to try and get first.
Will they be courteous and mindful of others in places like airplanes? No, they will tend to be rude and selfish and totally self-centered.
Will they avoid littering, out of respect for others? Just go to France...

So I am sorry but good manners extend beyond a dining table and a way to shake hands. And the French don’t have it. So I will not live in a society where I will be judged, and harshly so, on these superficial criteria instead of on what really matters, the person I really am.

And this, folks, is why I although I miss France like crazy sometimes, I will not go back to live there. And am I passing a judgement on the French? You bet! And does it matter? Not one iota, thankfully!

A Real Man

2010-09-16T16:25:00.000-04:00

A real man is a woman's best friend. He will
never stand her up and never let her down.
He will reassure her when she feels insecure
and comfort her after a bad day.

He will inspire her to do things she never
thought she could do; to live without fear
and forget regret. He will enable her to
express her deepest emotions and give in to
her most intimate desires. He will make sure
she always feels as though she's the most
beautiful woman in the room and will enable
her to be the most confident, sexy,
seductive, and invincible.

No wait... sorry... I'm thinking of wine.

It's wine that does all that.......Never mind.

And we could be heroes, just for one day...

2010-09-10T18:41:00.001-04:00

Today was a very exciting day. Today we received the visit, at the office, of two men I'm more in awe of, and star-struck about than I would be of Brad Pitt and Bono visiting. Everybody is in awe of them so a lot of people wanted to grab a word, especially the ladies because these two are absolute eye candy. They are treated like EIP as in EXTREMELY Important Personalities. Yet they remain completely simple and down to earth and approachable. And that's not the least of the things I admire about them. They're in their thirties, they have physical courage, impossibly bright minds and a scope of skills and experiences that defy the imagination. They impress THE HELL out of me.

Because I will not reveal where I work on this blog, I cannot reveal their identities. I could probably put up a picture of them and nobody would know who they are. Only people in that specific field do. But of the hundreds of people at the office, and even though they are shepherded and marched and timed to the minute, I did get a chance to shake their hands and say a few words, and they remembered me from last year, when I had met them for the first time.

So I'm floating on a cloud.

I'm usually never star-struck by anybody, even celebrities. I don't do hero worship. In fact, that's how I met them in the first place. While everybody was treating them like sacred china, I just went and talked to them as to the normal people that they are.

But they sure made my day.

Blue

2010-09-07T20:35:00.000-04:00

What's on my fridge

2010-09-07T18:46:00.002-04:00

- Art by Karl Larsson, because I love his work.
- A hand written note from my brother last time he was here for Christmas, telling me there's turkey in the fridge.
- A postcard from Marie, picture of Cape Town, in my country-in-law.
- Pretty magnets.
- Pictures of my departed cats, so it feels they're still around with us.

- And of course, an old painting I like from my son.

2010-09-06T10:14:00.000-04:00

Monsieur Chinook, caught in the act of killing the bed...

The Truth About the French

2010-09-02T07:32:00.002-04:00

Read a good one yesterday...

Why do French people eat snails?

Because they don't like fast-food.

Back To School!

2010-09-01T08:19:00.001-04:00

Today, for the first time in his academic life, my son will step into a classroom that’s geared up for HIS needs, with teatchers who are specialized in his way to see the world. How huge is that? HUGE.
My son has fiercely hated school from the first time he ever stepped into a classroom. Will he still hate it as much in specialized education? Time will tell. I’m very eager to see what kind of a difference it will make.

In the meantime:
I dreamed of blood.
My friend Linda is seeing turtles.
My friend J will wear a top hat today.
The suffocating heatwave is on ‘till Saturday.
Today is September 1st.
On every square inch of floor in my house, there’s a cat stretched out complaining: ”Boy, it’s hot!” Even Chinook The Terrible is slowing down on ambush attacks. It is simply too hot to fight.

Have a good one everybody!

Thought of the day

2010-08-26T11:24:00.000-04:00

"To err is human, to purr is feline." Robert Byrne

Maaaa, he's done it again!

2010-08-23T19:35:00.004-04:00

Wow. When I take a picture of Rockport's Front Beach, it looks like this:

When my brother takes a picture of Rockport's Front Beach, it looks like this:

(See it bigger by clicking on it). Copyright Vincent Mounier 2010

And this, my dears, is the difference between an amateur and a Photographer.

My family

2010-08-22T12:51:00.004-04:00

This is my family. How do we know it's my family? Easy. Four people have a book in their hands.

In my family, we read. And when we're not reading, we take pictures of each other taking pictures.

Lots of books. Lots of pictures.

Then we blog about it.

2010-08-19T08:38:00.000-04:00

2010-08-19T08:31:00.000-04:00

A Fix of Ocean

2010-08-17T08:06:00.001-04:00

Contrary to appearances, I am alive and kicking... just came back from a few days by the ocean in New England. Will blog more soon...

A Happy Birthday!

2010-08-12T15:02:00.003-04:00

Today, one of my dearest friends turns 42. So I printed 8 copies of this sign:

And I taped them in all the windows, windshield and rear window of his van. Nice and bright where everywhere could see them. All day.

I hope he appreciates how much I care about his safety... I'm just one of those very caring persons.

It's a blueberry kind of day

2010-08-11T15:29:00.001-04:00

A friend has generously given me two huge bowls of the most delicious blueberries on earth. Loukhi has confirmed they were good. Oh where is my sister-in-law? She would do all kinds of scrumptious miracles with those. Me... well, I just eat them. C'est délicieux et nutritif, moi personnellement je trouve. (Last sentence is a wink to my brother)

Meanwhile, Chinook is still very busy being cute.

The business of being cute

2010-08-11T09:33:00.002-04:00

On doing nothing

2010-08-11T07:53:00.001-04:00

Aaah... vacations... farniente... I leisurely sip my coffee... then all I have to do is feed the cats, change their water, do the dishes from yesterday, clean the litter boxes, take a shower, clean the guinea pig's cage, take the garbage out, change the sheets on my bed and take more pictures of Chinook for this blog 'cause he's really cute and vacuum... that's all.

2010-08-02T14:19:00.000-04:00

He's clearly having a hard time adapting.

This is Chinook

2010-08-02T13:48:00.002-04:00

Still fits in one hand. Purrs a lot. Must stick his face AGAINST mine at night to go to sleep. Do you know how TICKLISH whiskers are in your nose or your mouth? Highly popular with the humans. Not so much with the cats yet.

He doesn't replace Pasha. He only carries on where Pasha left.

What happened

2010-07-28T09:14:00.002-04:00

I sat on my bed, with my new hobby, boxes of beads spread out around me... Pasha was on the fringe, itching to jump into the whole thing. Eventually, he hunted down a piece of discarded string, played with it, then started eating it.
I said: ‘Hey, hey, hey! Oh no you don’t eat that!”
I removed the string from his paws and mouth and dropped it in my waste basket.

I suppose the minute my back was turned, he went and helped himself to the string directly from the waste basket. It never even occurred to me that he could do that.

He ate it. It ravaged his intestines, knotting and slicing them. It killed him.

The vet said they see TONS of cats dying from having eaten string, each year. I had no idea. Cat owners, be warned.

Pasha, you have no idea how much you are missed, the awful emptiness you are leaving behind.

Pasha

2010-07-27T12:44:00.001-04:00

Pasha couldn't be saved. He died this morning.

Nowhere out of the woods

2010-07-24T11:16:00.002-04:00

We took him home. He moves very, very slowly. He's indifferent to the other cats. He has not started eating or drinking yet, though we hope being back home will stimulate his appetite. We have 4 to 6 pills to give him a day, that's going to be hellish. (You know... cats and pills...)

So fingers crossed. I'd say at this stage, there's a 50-50 % chance he gets better or he deteriorates beyond help. We're going to pamper him with all the love in the world. The rest is out of our hands.

What do I do now?

2010-07-23T14:42:00.000-04:00

« We know what he DOESN’T have, says the vet after blood tests, glycolic test, x-rays etc and hundreds of dollars. But we don’t know what he has.”
Great.

Pasha has been at the clinic for two days and will spend another night. He’s had an IV the whole time. He seems better and more awake... but he still throws up and still doesn’t eat.

If tomorrow is more of the same... what do we do? If we take him home and he doesn’t eat, he’ll weaken until he dies. But we can’t leave him at the clinic, in a cage, with a needle up his paw for days on end either...

So at this stage, I don’t know what to do.

Worrying

2010-07-22T07:14:00.000-04:00

Shortly after Luritja died, a year ago, I lost my heart for my blog. Here I am, a year later, finally inspired again.

But yesterday, Pasha acted very sick. So we whisked him to the vet, who kept him overnight for various tests and to rehydrate him.

I should get some news today. I am worried. Pasha, please don’t let it be serious or fatal. Hang on, mon Pash, don’t go like Luritja did.

Wealth and Creation

2010-07-19T19:08:00.005-04:00

I feel incredibly wealthy... I have received my box from Better World Books today and I have... not one... not two... not three... but THIRTEEN handpicked unread books ready for my summer and vacation reading! I sometimes stock two or three, but THIRTEEN waiting for me, all from authors I already know and like?...
LIFE. IS. GOOD. and I feel super-duper privileged and spoiled as if I were a millionaire... Wealth is all in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.

On another front, I like creating (painting, sewing, drawing etc...) and I was a magpie in a past life in the sense that I adore everything that is shiny, glittery, sparkling... so my new current hobby (I feel like I'm eight years old again, and by Jove, that's rather pleasant actually):
Beads!! I'm making sparkling bracelets in a rainbow of colors, incredible shades of greens and blues (much prettier than the pictures)... it's creating things of beauty, just for the pleasure of it and I find it enormously fulfilling... I used to wear nothing but my earrings and my watch (as far as JEWELRY is concerned, jeez people but you have dirty minds!) but I have taken to always having some of my creations on my left wrist. They catch the light all day and I'm all bubbly inside every time I see them shine...

So there you have it. Two things that bring me joy... I try to always count my blessings.

Before and After

2010-07-18T17:33:00.005-04:00

Before:

Look at the size of her beside a hand...

Today:

Before:

Today:

Nothing new on the Dream front

2010-07-18T08:16:00.004-04:00

Inception didn't do it for me... Why? Let's see...
The actors and the dialogue, in the first third of the film, never let me forget I was watching lines being delivered.
The music throughout was loud enough to become distinctly annoying.
It's a film that wants to be deep without relinquishing its claim to Action. Unfortunately, the action is both unnecessary to the story, and dragging. The attack on the snowy compound is like a video game: you shoot, anonymous silhouettes crumble, except I got bored with the game long before the director did.

Examples of truly ground-breaking movies are the first Matrix, Avatar, the early Blade Runner. Despite the fuss, Inception is not one of them. The necessary romance, hero's angst, action and twists in the plot have been too dutifully assembled. Instead of being carried away, you simply want to put a check mark as you recognize each element.

Kuddos, however, to Tom Hardy, playing Eames. He's the only breath of fresh air in the middle of a cast of stilted, artificial acting.

The Year the Curtain was Lifted

2010-07-16T19:05:00.003-04:00

For 8 years, we have been convinced that something was "off" with my son. In those 8 years, we consulted several times, trying to figure out what was going on.

Each and every time we were sent back with the assurance that he was perfectly normal and any difficulties we were having were due to upbringing. Read: "You are failing as parents, it's all your fault if he's messed up, your parenting is clearly inadequate."

You can just imagine the level of guilt we developed through the years, or maybe you can't possibly. Each time, we left resolute to crack down on my son's misbehaving and war and mayhem would ensue.

Then, a few months or a year later, we'd stare at him and think: "It's NOT the parenting or at least not only that. Something is WRONG." And off we would go to another professional, to be more or less covertly blamed as usual and assured that my son would be just fine if we were just stricter.

It went on for 8 years, 8 years of conflicts, of rage on both sides, of slowly becoming despondent, both parents and child. Then, in his first year of high-school, my son threw in the towel. School was so stressful, painful, hated, humiliating, that he simply stopped going, and nothing could change his mind.

Distressed, we once more rang up the channels of the powers that be. This time, he had reached such a state of undoing that it was impossible to ignore any longer or pretend he just needed stricter parents. The teachers were at loss, the psychologists were at loss, we were at loss. So throughout this school year, 2009-2010, we slowly navigated the channels. It is harder to obtain an appointment with a child psychiatrist than to meet the pope. We dug our heels. We were patient. My son had dropped out of school at 12, there was nothing to lose anymore.

After seeing numerous professionals, a diagnostic was finally given, in June 2010. My son has an Attention Deficit Disorder AND Pervasive Developmental Disorder (PDD), a form of autism. He also has a superior IQ. All these years of trying to convince the counsellors that he WAS different...

Emotions are mixed. Rage at having been blamed all along and at their failure to realize he needed help... Relief, to know it wasn't our fault after all, and that he's not behaving the way he does because he's a brat, a fear that was haunting me... Grief at having to accept that he will ALWAYS be different...

He's enrolled in special PDD classes next fall. And all the while, we tried to hammer him into fitting in school, when he was a square among circles, and caught hell for it from the merciless classmates.

First-thing-in-the-morning reads

2010-07-15T08:30:00.010-04:00

Time magazine recently published a list of the so-proclaimed 25 best blogs of 2010 (needless to say, they’re all English... perhaps we could amend that to the 25 best English-language blogs? Naaw, North America has long forgotten there’s a world beyond...)

I have 5 blogs linked on my page, and I enjoy them so much that I want to briefly introduce each of them, in no particular order:

Coriolistic Anachronisms:

Vince is a photographer philosopher unless he is a philosopher photographer. He’s also a gifted writer, world traveler, computer and camera equipment maniac.

What you can mostly expect on his blog:
Wonderful photographs, food for thought, technical posts and Wisdom.

Morning Bray Farm:

Two burros and two donkeys live on a farm in New Mexico. Justina and Don, the owners, take great photographs of the daily life.

What you can mostly expect on this blog:
Plenty of donkey’s antics, wrapped in humor and tenderness.

The 7 MSN Ranch:

Out in the middle of a spectacular nowhere: one woman, one horse, two burros, one dog, one pig, five cats and the occasional visitor (snake, spider, lizard, varmin). Linda is professional-class photographer who truly has an eye for light and composition. She takes pictures that tell stories... those are the best.

What you can mostly expect on this blog:
A wonderful sense of humor, an inextinguishable love for animals, pet pictures that will make you dream, laugh or fall in love, and George and Alan, the two cutest asses on the planet.

Don Estorbo de la Bodega:

This is a black cat’s blog. A black cat with a strong accent and an attitude.

What you can expect on this blog:
A hilarious black cat with a strong accent and an attitude.

66 Square Feet:

Marie lives in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn. She mostly blogs about things that grow, cooking, and daily life in Brooklyn. She takes remarkable close-ups of plants and food. She’s well-read, outspoken, with a sharp and lively mind. Her blog has been acknowledged and nominated on several occasions.

What you can expect on this blog:
All about growing and identifying plants, delicious recipes, drinks and editorials.

Of course, there is some family connection (not that it influences my judgement in any way OF COURSE!). Vince is my brother, Marie my sister-in-law and Estorbo my cat-in-law. The asses, unfortunately, are not related.

So go visit, and enjoy!!

Re-introducing: the Cats

2010-07-13T09:22:00.012-04:00

Today is a momentous day. Today, after a hiatus of one year, I’m going back to blogging. I knew I would eventually. I waited to be ready.
I’ve discovered new blogs that I enjoy beyond words, and they also nudged me forward.

Most of my favourite blogs have a point. A theme. A purpose. I delight in the fact that mine has not. My blog is my blank page, the voice of the girl who seldom speaks out. I delight in my freedom to write about anything ...
Compounding my freedom, is the fact that all my followers have long ago stopped checking on my blog. I don’t expect traffic except for a few loved ones. That also makes a difference, knowing that what I write will hardly be read.

Last evening we had a thunderstorm. Wind and rain lashed the windows, the trees, the clothes laid out to dry, the kind of outpour that soaks you within seconds, violent winds that flipped leaves over, like a skirt billowing up against your will. I loved it. I love storms. A gorgeous double rainbow illuminated the sky and then night fell.

When I was blogging last, I had just lost one of my favourite cats ever. Right away, I got two new kittens and they did a wonderful job of distracting me from my grief. So now, for this new reader that I will call "you", here’s how the family stands:

Circe is twelve, the oldest, the veteran. She’s declawed. She is a mama’s girl, following me like a shadow, trusting no one but me. She’s very soft, very skinny, under her fluffy fur she actually weighs nothing. I pick her up like a rag doll and she pretends to hate it but she loves it. She’s curious, sociable, not shy, but grumpy. She will lie close to the others but will never actually cuddle with them. She’s learned to bite hard, to make up, I think, for her helplessness at being declawed (I mistake I vowed never to do again), but with me, she only fakes it and never actually bites.

Circe

Loukhi was Luritja’s “baby”. I’ve never seen two cats so attached to each other, so inseparable, so intimate. I know Luritja’s death left a huge hole in Loukhi’s life. For months on end, she lost patches of fur, bare spots as clean as if they had been shaved. I think she was grieving badly in the beginning. Loukhi is the quiet, peaceful one. She’s a solid cat, yet she has that tiny, soft, shy meow, which she uses only to answer when you sweet talk to her. Even though she doesn’t love them as she loved Luritja, she gets along fine with the others and I think she’s happy enough again, as happy as you can be when the love of your life has been taken away from you. She loves being petted but doesn’t come onto your lap. None of my cats do.

Loukhi and her love

Happier times

Loukhi

Saphi is the tiny thing I adopted one day after Luritja died. As a kitten, she was adorable. Independent, curious, friendly. She immediately got along with the others. Her characteristic was that she fell in love with the blanket on my bed and used it as a surrogate mother. She would suckle on it passionately, purring loudly, until she soothed herself to sleep, her nose still in the fake fur. I have endless pictures of Pasha and her, as kittens, and on each of them, Pasha is stretched out like a rabbit while you can’t see Saphi’s nose, buried in the blanket. They made for an adorable pair. A year later, Saphi is still as tiny and as skinny as delicate china. She’s become even more independent. She doesn’t like petting and tries to avoid our hands. She doesn’t purr easily and she’s the first cat I know who hardly ever smiles. A non-smiling cat is so very odd to me. Instead of smiling, she gravely looks at you with huge but friendly eyes, studying you. She looks directly at you, deep into your eyes, intent on understanding what you’re saying, or on passing a silent message. She spends hours away from home. We wonder where she goes. For all that, it is clear that she’s a perfectly happy cat, playful, jumping higher than any other, and as acrobatic as a monkey. Precious Saphi.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...

"Hum, impressive!"

A few days after Saphi, I got Pasha. Pasha is the only male, as was Luritja. And they turned out to have a lot in common. Pasha is a bon vivant. Food is his hobby, and from being slightly smaller than Saphi as a kitten, he’s grown at least twice her size. He’s the biggest cat now. He’s a trusting, good natured fellow, who rolls onto his back any chance he gets, another thing Luritja used to do. He has regular bouts of intense affection during which, purring loudly, he rubs back and forth against you, stubbornly. And he has the funniest meow, which he uses a lot. His meow is very clear: an insistent, reproachful whining. It seems to chide you for the way you treat him/ignore him/not feed him, it complains: “I am a poor, pitiful cat and I’m being grossly mistreated”. You could build unions on his meow. His only fault is that he plays too rough. When he claws in play, he doesn’t hold back, as the cries of the others often remind us. And when he decides to ambush my feet beneath the sheet while I’m peacefully sleeping, the pain has made me scream out loud. Idiot.

With the newcomer

Well! I certainly did not intend to write to such length on my first post back, but I’m glad you are now introduced to the crowd. Thus you will know who I’m talking about... All these pictures are old, and now that they're grown up, I'll post new ones so you can see the changes. As for the rest of the house’s inhabitants, it will be for another time!

2009-06-04T12:43:00.002-04:00

When night is darkest, I extend my hand and feel a small, soft, relaxed body. It is warm and vibrates, as if to convey: don't lose hope. Dawn shall come again.
I know. But what will it bring with it?

Illustrators I Like

2009-05-25T10:18:00.008-04:00

C. M. Barker

J. Wilcox Smith

H. Willebeek Le Mair

Mucha

Self Portraits I Like

2009-05-22T14:01:00.003-04:00

Carl Larsson

Romaine Brooks

Frida Kahlo

I'll add more as I come upon them... or remember them...

In Memoriam

2009-04-16T19:59:00.002-04:00

Luritja my love, may you eat, and jump, cuddle and purr in peace in Cats' Paradise.

One of my favorite cats ever, I will post pictures of my precious Fatso King when I cry less.

President Obama

2009-03-24T15:50:00.002-04:00

Some humor, the rest makes me feel so glad and safe that he's the Leader. May I vote for him, again?

Excerpt from the transcript of President Obama on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno, March 19, 2009

"I see the fairground where I think we're having this town hall and I said, well, why don't we walk over there? Secret Services says, no, sir, it's 750 yards."

"I do think Washington is a bit like "American Idol" except everybody is Simon Cowell."

"The change I'd like to see in terms of tax policy is that we have a system (…) where you and I who are doing pretty well pay a little bit more to pay for healthcare, to pay for energy, to make sure that kids can go to college who aren't as fortunate as ours (…)"

"Most of the stuff that got us into trouble was perfectly legal. And that is a sign of how much we've got to change our laws --right?"

" (…) a smart kid coming out of school, instead of wanting to be an investment banker, we need them to decide they want to be an engineer, they want to be a scientist, they want to be a doctor or a teatcher."

"(…) I think two days ago, when somebody asked, well, do you have confidence in Tim Geithner. I said, look, I'm the president, so ultimately all this stuff is my responsibility."

"And one of the things I am trying to break is a pattern in Washington where everybody is always looking for somebody else to blame."

"It's spectacular what is being done now with plug-in hybrids, where not only are you getting the hybrid technology, but now you can plug it in at home in your garage (…) And when you get home you could potentially sell the energy in your car back into the grid, back to your utility, and get money.
So we're going to be investing billions of dollars in research and development around these technologies (…) That's a whole new level of technology. That what's going to create the auto industry of the future."

"You know, they say if you want a friend in Washington, get a dog."

Unsponsored Commercial Pause

2009-03-18T08:59:00.003-04:00

Once in a while, when I find something good, I like to share.

For those who are into music and have been for a long time, like I am, for those who use MP3 players, particularly for training or running, like I do, we often search for particular beats, or songs, or versions, without necessarily wanting to buy the whole CD (previously records and tapes!).

I have found a gem of a place called Justmusicstore.

Justmusicstore offers MP3's for the unbeatable price of… 15 cents. Itunes Store, eat your heart out. Pay 99 cents for a single track? Not anymore, for that price you can have almost a whole album!
Fight with the M4P Itune format and how to transform it and how to share it etc? Not anymore, welcome to simple, unlimited MP3 files.
Justmusicstore offers an extensive library. Of all I've searched so far, there may be only one or two things I haven't found.
What's more they usually offer numerous versions. Did you want the original version, the radio edit, the remix by Klaas, the cover by somebody else, the German version? All there for you to chose.
Finally, you can pre-listen to portions of each song, to make sure it is indeed what you are looking for.
The minimum start up is a 20 dollars deposit, with no expiration date. Then you purchase as you please and tracks are deducted from your balance as you go.
For 20 dollars with Itunes, you get 20 songs. For 20 dollars with Justmusicstore, you get 133 songs. Say hello to whole U2 albums for 1.50$?

The choice is so wide, the download so convenient, the pre-listening so ideal that I've started to look for songs there before I even search (free) Acquisition.

They don't even know I'm plugging them on my blog. I do it because when I find something great, in these days of overpricing and customers being held hostage, I want to spread it far and wide!!!

Enjoy!

Dear Abby

2009-01-05T20:28:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure, but I think I just broke up with my scale.

It still lives at home so we might be able to patch things up, but I don't know.

The huge argument broke out when I got on it and it just threw me this big number, BANG! No warning, no small talk, nothing!

I got off and I said: "You know, I don't find that you're being very kind to me."
It said nothing. I said, you know, all reasonable-like: "Look, things are not easy for me these days. I've been sick throughout the holidays, the job is horrible, I'm dealing with a lot. Help me out here."
I got on it again BANG! same big number, not a word.

I said angrily: "Yeah, well this is not my idea of a relationship, this is not my idea of communication, or dialogue! You want to be this way, you might just have to go and weight someone else!"

It STILL didn't answer me. Silent treatment all the way! Then I KNEW that's exactly what it wanted!

"FINE! BE THAT WAY! SEE IF YOU'RE GONNA SEE ME AGAIN ANY TIME SOON!"

And I stormed off. We haven't talked since. I mean, I'm not gonna let a scale walk all over me!

Does anybody have any advice on what I should do now?

The Wind Blows

2008-12-28T16:11:00.004-05:00

I have a cold. Colds were invented to make people miserable. It works. I'm miserable. Constant sore throat. Extremely tired so every thirty minutes or so I must go and lie down a little. Too tired to read or watch TV but not sleepy. So I'm literally doing nothing and bored out of my mind.

Outside, the wind has been hollering like a banshee all day. You hear it pressing on the windows, the walls, shaking the trees like it's furious and will not calm down. It's a wind tempest.

Meanwhile, I'm bored. And tired. But not sleepy.

Below was a second before opening presents. We had a nice time. Now, I have a cold.

Randoms

2008-12-22T18:58:00.005-05:00

I've never met a cat I didn't like. This little newcomer was adopted by some friends this week. Her name is Zoe.

In no time, I had her spread out on her back, hypnotized, offering a soft belly to anybody around. Damn, I'm good.

In the end, we got lazy. There is no real green tree, this year, for the first time ever. We'll do one next year. Opening presents is on Dec. 24, but the young generation has been lobbying hard to have the presents under the tree before that. Why not? It's such a pretty sight, so full of magic and promises...

Winter Wonderland

2008-12-14T10:06:00.006-05:00

Freezing rain fell, coating everything in shiny clear ice. When the sun shines, everything sparkles and looks magical. I'm not quite happy with my pictures. Where are Vince and Marie when you need them?

Oh I know where they are. Just about on their way to the outdoors, intense sun, flowers and new discoveries. Shoot from the hip, guys! Cameras, I mean.

On December 4th

2008-12-05T11:41:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday.

Yesterday also, Janica finally lost her battle and passed away. She fought so hard to live. She went through so much pain.

Godspeed Janica.

Bravo

2008-12-04T12:43:00.002-05:00

An employee is trampled to death by hundreds of eager customers as they charge into a Wal-mart store, when its doors opened at 5 am on the day of a special sale.

Was it a stampede of starved people trying to get food rations? No.
Were they trying to get other, desperately needed supplies? No.
Is this an uncivilized country where human life has little value? No.

It was a bunch of greedy consumers, in a land of plenty, willing to get up and start waiting in line at 3:00 am to start shopping at 5:00 am, all to save a few bucks on ordinary merchandise.
I hope you REALLY enjoy the 9 $ DVD you got a bargain on.

And they wonder why I like cats.

Trees

2008-11-30T12:41:00.006-05:00

I know it's a bit early but I suddenly wanted a white tree. So I got one.

At night, it's veeeeeeeery pretty!

'Course, we'll still have a real green one in the living room...

Dreary Wednesday

2008-11-26T09:35:00.000-05:00

Applied on a job I REALLY wanted. Did not get it. Dreadfully disappointed.

The Last Attempt

2008-11-15T15:49:00.004-05:00

Vince, you want to skip this one.

This is my blog, and the advantage of having few readers is that I can write what I damn well please. This is about a book and an event few outside the diving circles have even heard of. To anybody who has not read the book, it will probably be charabia. But it's my blog, so I can indulge!!!

This post is a follow-up to the October 11's one, titled "The Ocean".

****

I've just finished reading "The Last Attempt" by Carlos Serra. Former friend and associate of Pipin Ferreras, he wrote the book trying to find out what really happened to Audrey Mestre on the day she died. He was there, he was one of the main players. And he was very fond of Audrey.

The book is riveting. In fact it cost me five hours of sleep because I could not put it down.

Having known Pipin, the book triggered several memories for me.

In 1993, when Mayol was in Freeport, he was there to do a symbolic dive: in 1966, he had broken the world record in Freeport by free diving to 66 meters. That year, in 1993, he was 66 years old and had decided to do it again, to mark the occasion.

Pipin was there either to dive or break another record. That they would both be on island at the same time seemed a little much for coincidence, especially considering that they didn't like each other. Mayol, with whom I spent more time because I spoke French, dismissed Ferreras as reckless, a bad example for others in a dangerous sport. (He would say the same to Serra.) At the time, I had overlooked it as a childish attempt to put down an competitor, because Mayol could be quite harsh in what he said about other people.

I also remembered more what Pipin was like, as Serra so accurately described the various moods. He could seem almost childish or naive in a way that made you want to protect him. He could be extremely smooth, friendly and charming. He could snap very shortly at someone but usually in Spanish, which I didn't understand. He could be somber and moody. Always, he was larger than life. And for sure, he made arbitrary decisions, following a reasoning that the rest of us seldom got, and they usually were never challenged. He was the undisputed master, in charge at all times.

I think Serra's explanation hits the nail in several regards, but there are still some holes in his theory:

Why would Pipin, making a scuba rescue of Audrey, become a hero for the public? Footage of them sharing a tank as they slowly got back up would be very anti-climatic, nothing spectacular. That he was thinking ahead for a future film makes more sense to me, because Pipin was always thinking way, way ahead. But I'm not convinced about the intended plot.

I am convinced Pipin knowingly did not fill the Pony bottle and I am convinced that asking for a scuba set to be geared up for him in advance is extremely revealing.

Something else doesn't make sense. My first question about the story was "WHY did Audrey not take air from her safety diver?" Serra has what I think is an accurate answer for that. But WHY did Pascal not clearly offer it to her, insisted with a regulator right in her face??? You see him trying to push her up. How senseless is that? Especially after the sled got stuck for 30 seconds at 164 meters. By then, he should have KNOWN she couldn't make it to the surface on time. And my guess is that Audrey wasn't even trying to swim up.

Eventually, Pascal caught her sinking back down, unconscious, and then took her up. But it remains a big mystery to me what happened at the bottom and Pascal seemed to have contradicted himself in later versions. I can believe Pipin had a hidden plan. I don't for a minute believe Pascal would have been part of it.

One thing is for sure: there are holes and lies and delusions on Pipin's part that are undeniable. The unexpected decision to suddenly put Serra in charge officially, but still not let him be. The suggestion of replacing Pascal as the deep safety on Trimix. Brushing away all attempts to remind him to fill the Pony.

One of the most revealing thing for me, as an experienced instructor, came at the very end of the book: footage of Pipin alternating a straight kick with a static kick on his way up with Audrey. Anybody who has spent significant time in the water knows the static, sideways kick that allows you to remain almost stationary or moving very slowly. NOT what you would use when bringing up your wife in a life and death situation.

All in all, I don't know. But Serra writes with the accent of truth. I don't believe all his conclusions but most of them. The episode of Pipin stealing Serra's air left my jaw hanging.

And Audrey, in all this? She was a disturbed and unhappy individual. It is very hard for me to respect a doormat woman. That she could show such physical courage as to descending to the depth she did, yet so little spine to assert herself is bitterly ironic. She was not a fighter, a survivor. I agree with Serra: I think when she found out the tank was empty, knowing who was in charge of it, she simply gave up. Holding on to the sled with both hands doing nothing, waiting for death.

I never knew her and what I learned made me lose a lot of respect for her. Still. So sad.

Because It's INTERESTING

2008-11-06T12:24:00.002-05:00

"Sea snakes have astonishing aquatic adaptations, like valved nostrils to seal in air, lungs that can hold a breath for hours, and skin that flushes nitrogen to beat the bends, but they do have to surface to breathe once in a while."

From an article by Daniel Duane in National Geographic's adventure, September 2005.

Perspective

2008-11-05T07:50:00.000-05:00

From the AC360 Blog and without its permission:

Gary Tuchman
AC360° Correspondent

What a juxtaposition! I’m in an Anchorage, Alaska restaurant where the McCain-Palin viewing party is taking place. Sarah Palin’s lieutenant governor is here (the man who would have taken her place as governor if she won); so are other Republican officials.

At the moment the big screen TV projection was made by CNN of Barack Obama winning the race, there was silence; a certain and palpable sense of awe at the historic nature of the moment. But it lasted for a very short time. People began to ignore the TV; a GOP official spoke to the hundreds in the restaurant about the great job that all the Republican staffers and volunteers did in Alaska. And life went on.

The Tide Is Turning

2008-11-05T07:35:00.000-05:00

Alleluia!

Tomorrow

2008-11-03T20:29:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow, Americans will make History. Will it be the history of a gigantic step forward or will it be the history of a nation bitterly divided?
I hope and pray.

Inside

2008-10-16T18:14:00.005-04:00

-Papa!!

-Pinocchio!!!

Falling

2008-10-16T18:06:00.002-04:00

The Nanuk Chronicles

2008-10-12T08:39:00.006-04:00

No, no cameras! Please! We're taking a break.

The Ocean

2008-10-11T16:41:00.004-04:00

In 1993, a Unexso scuba instructor in Freeport, Bahamas, disappeared during a free dive. I already wrote a post about it somewhere.

It just so happened that both Jacques Mayol and Pipin Ferreras were in Freeport at the time. Jacques Mayol was actually on Keith's boat, preparing for a dive. He was already fairly old by then, and I suppose he had seen a lot of tragedy in the midst of his career. In any case, there was no obvious outward reaction from him after the accident. He didn't know Keith and kept to himself, but didn't seem overly disturbed.

That night, we had dinner with a group of people, including Pipin, who had befriended my husband. Pipin, at least, took the time and trouble to express his regrets and sorrow upon hearing of what had happened. He seemed genuinely shocked.

I made his acquaintance during his stay in Freeport. My husband and him talked quite a bit. He had a formidable presence and personality. We even played tennis, the three of us, my husband and I playing double against Pipin playing single.

After the Freeport years, I ran across him briefly at an underwater show in New Orleans a few years later. That was the last of our paths crossing.

I read how his wife died in a free diving accident in 2002. And the images mingled in my mind: Besson's film, and the death of Enzo in Jacques's arms on the dive platform; the frantic and fruitless search for Keith; photos of Audrey's lifeless body lifted on the boat, surrounded by divers. It's all so hauntingly familiar, all so intermingled: faces I've known, places I've known, and always, death and tragedy. I don't know...

As a dive instructor, a free diver, a safety coordinator, you watch the video of her death and you can’t help wonder: why didn’t she do this, or that? What went wrong? From what I’ve gathered so far, plenty did go wrong. I think people had become jaded about safety, Audrey included. When so much depends on a poney bottle, you devise alternatives, back-ups, when-things-go-wrong-plans. There didn’t seem to be any in place and there weren’t enough safety divers.

Throughout and always, the sea quietly laps against the side of the boat.

P.S.
James Cameron is making a film, (I believe “The Dive” is the working title) about Pipin’s and Audrey Mestre’s love story and her death. Cameron is no stranger to the deep, after gracing us with the excellent "The Abyss".
Rumors put in in theaters in 2010. Rumors also mention Salma Hayek as Audrey… hmmm, I’m not sold on that.

More Fall

2008-10-11T16:07:00.005-04:00

Early morning...

11:00 am

Even the school buses have turned...

Mind Blowing

2008-10-07T15:30:00.002-04:00

Next add of the McCain campaign:

“We may not be good for your bank account, your mortgage, your health care, or your job security — but none of that will matter if you are dead.
John McCain: If You Want to Live.”

I...I...I.. I... I... I...'m speechless

A La Demandé Guénérale

2008-10-02T18:09:00.008-04:00

From my (long) walk of Sunday, introducing Fall colors...

A neighbor I met on the way (I always stop to meet any cat I come across. Just being civil, you know...)

After the rain...

This is my life: a diary, and a cat guarding it.

Sunday Stroll

2008-09-28T20:13:00.001-04:00

Distance: 21 km
Pace: brisk walk
Time: 3:45
Terrain: half flat, half hilly
State of legs: wooden sticks
Next destination: hot bath

Falls Has Landed

2008-09-28T11:14:00.010-04:00

Mr Newman has ended.

I've just finished re-reading most of the Little House On The Prairie books. I had to stop.

Those who have read The Lord Of The Rings must know the feeling well. The wrenching nostalgia of the story ending, having to leave the characters behind, knowing nothing would ever be the same, desperately wishing things could go on unchanged forever.

The Little House's books always have the same impact on me. Unlike TLOTR, it's a real story, so you can grab comfort from searching deeper what happened to the beloved characters. But like TLOTR, things change never to return. And like every real story, the end is always the same: everybody dies in the end.

I must be having a "facing death" moment like Marie had recently.

I am fascinated, these days, by this phenomenon: a loving family. And yes, it used to happen even "back then".

A loving, involved, benevolent father.

A loving, steadfast mother.

Happy children.

Exemples? Sure.

Brought to us through writings: Charles and Caroline Ingalls, and the children: Mary, Laura, Carrie and Grace.

Brought to us through paintings: Carl and Karin Larsson, and the children: Suzanne, Ulf, Pontus, Lisbeth, Brita, Kersti and Esbjorn.

Karin and Kersti.

See the steady, open look of Karin, straight into the eyes of her husband and partner? I've seen the very same look on photographs of the modern day family that is my third example, but whose name and pictures I will not post to preserve their privacy.

I'm not saying things were never hard for them, they were. But at the heart of it all, the Family remained as the very core of their purpose.

Children grow up, families burst so that the seeds start a new family all over again. So knowing it is not destined to last, there is a magical moment, frozen in time, covering a few years, of two loving parents raising young children.

And maybe, as I passed it by, do I only now, when it's too late, discover that this might be really what it's ALL about. This whole Life charade.

The Nanuk Chronicles

2008-09-21T11:23:00.003-04:00

Parenthood:

"What have I done? What have I done?"

The Nanuk Chronicles

2008-09-19T19:42:00.006-04:00

Sure Beence, there you go:

I WOVE you.

The Nanuk Chronicles

2008-09-18T17:29:00.011-04:00

I'm on a polar bear kick. Polar bears are very appealing, in an anthropomorphic way. They can be very human-like in their attitudes, and very cat-like as well, which I believe is part of my attraction to them.

So in The Nanuk Chronicles, I’m going to post bear pictures. I went through thousands of them and no, I didn’t bother taking note of photo credits. I apologize in advance. I’ve no idea where a lot of them came from. One of my main sources, however, is a stock photo agency called Alaska Stock. All their pictures are copyrighted so they all bear (get it) the name.

Since I’m only an obscure, small, under-read blog, I don’t think any one will mind.

So here we go, all captions written by me of course.

Introducing..... SUMO BEARS!

These guys already have a fan club. Last May, enthusiastic fans created a riot. They are celebrities.

Bear yoga is the latest health craze up North.

Not everybody is equally gifted.

The well known "Sun Salutation":

It's enjoyed in groups:

And not forgotten in captivity

The Politics of a Brand New Face

2008-09-05T07:36:00.002-04:00

A few days ago, I had never heard of her. Now, she's everywhere and I'm already having an overdose.
I don't like her. I don't like what she stands for. I don't want her at the head of a very powerful nation.
I don't care who her husband is, I don't care if her kid is pregnant, and I don't like pitbulls.
Go back to your beauty queen world, Sarah Palin, just go away.

...don't you think?

2008-08-29T15:12:00.001-04:00

How ironic is it that I and millions of Americans are cheering for a next President of the US whose middle name is "Hussein"?

For Shasta

2008-08-29T09:10:00.001-04:00

Once in a while, a story strikes you and stays with you, like Beslan did and does for me.

I have always wanted to be a vegetarian because I love animals so much. Alas, I am very much a meat eater.
I have always wanted to be as colorblind as I was as a child. But with age came experience.
I have always wanted to be against the death penalty, as an ideal. But I've always been on the fence.

Two days ago, a monster was sentenced to death, and I don't see what else could have been done. Would a life in prison made him repent and change? I don't think so. What about the little boy he once was? I believe he is lost for this lifetime. We shoot rabid dogs, don't we?

Can society enforce "thou shall not kill" by killing? I wish I could say no.
For Dylan and Shasta, I say: "Yes, willingly."

Walking In The Sunshine

2008-08-25T08:05:00.000-04:00

Not to be outdone by my little brother, who does it regardless on a daily basis, I went for a 21km walk yesterday. My hip flexors and I are no longer speaking. Other than that, R.A.S.

Windy

2008-08-23T14:36:00.002-04:00

Two good books this weekend:

Cry, The Beloved Country
which has been sitting in my library for years, the only one of my books about Africa that had remained mysteriously untouched. I had tried it before once or twice but didn't have the perspective needed to grasp and enjoy it. Now I do, with a South-African sister-in-law only the cherry on the sundae.

Ayn Rand's Anthem
Controversial, sure, as was all she wrote. But as brilliant as the rest.
I dream I could wake up one day to find that there existed Lucy M. Montgomery, Jane Austen, Tolkien and Ayn Rand's books that I had not yet read. Oh the feast!

Shimmering colors, songs of the wind, chimes brought back from the seaside by my mother... as delightful to listen to as they are to look at.

At The Movies

2008-08-21T09:06:00.002-04:00

So I saw the latest Batman.
It's become a cliché to say that Heath Ledger steals the show but he does. He simply does. I took a few minutes to think long and hard whether the hoopla over his performance would have been the same had he not died tragically since. Honestly, I think so! He created a character of such intensity, with peculiar speech, mannerisms, walk… The minute he’s on the screen, you see no one else. Christian Bale is oddly tame and flavourless, almost as a background character, but that’s partly due to the scenario, which gives him little chance to display his acting skills.

I was in the car, on my way to see Tropic Thunder, because I usually enjoy Ben Stiller‘s humor, because the premise sounded good and because a satire of Hollywood is always welcome. But I suddenly realized that even though that’s a movie I want to see and I’m willing to pay for, I’d rather wait for the DVD because most likely the out-takes will be worth the wait. So I turned aound.

Pride and Glory came out. I try to go see most of Norton’s movies but I believe this is the movie adaptation of Motherless Brooklyn. If that’s the case, I’m not so eager because I didn’t really enjoy the book. And if that’s the film, goodness, it’s a project Norton has been working on for, what? the last TEN years or so!

Finally, two movies I’m looking forward to: Body of lies, with Crowe and DiCaprio and, of course, Madagascar 2, with a lion and a zebra!!!!

Be good and don’t abuse the popcorn.

2008-08-18T10:38:00.000-04:00

Olympics' Opening Ceremony - random thoughts

2008-08-09T12:17:00.001-04:00

How do you insure security for an event THIS vast? The truth is, you can't. Determined and well organized terrorists, infiltrating themselves ahead of time, would make a play of it. Just trying to imagine the logistics of security on top of the obvious logistics of the opening ceremony makes me dizzy.

It feels funny to hear all announcements in French first. An homage to monsieur De Coubertin, I suppose?

I didn't like the military bringing up the Olympic flag. The Olympics are no place for the military and certainly not in the opening ceremony.

It struck me how Caucasians were interchangeable, country wise. Watch the athletes coming into the stadium and try to GUESS which country is which without looking at the flag or the colors. If you say you can do it, I think you're a liar. We tend to stereotype "the Australians", the "Brazilians", "the Spanish", "the Americans", but the truth is, we're all alike, we're all a melting pot. Only language, culture and politics really divide us.

Will Chinese athletes REALLY be dope free? aghhhh, hard to believe.

All right, let the games begin!

I'm on vacation!

2008-08-06T09:17:00.003-04:00

This is the view from the North:

This is the view from the South:

This is the view on the floor:

Synchronism

2008-07-25T08:43:00.001-04:00

Mr X usually leaves his office at four o'clock sharp. But today, his brother calls him with good news. They chat a while, and it's finally eleven after four when he walks out the door.
Walking the ten blocks to his apartment, he sudenly decides to grab a bottle of wine for his supper and alters his path accordingly.
On tiny Wilson Street, a shortcut to the liquor store, Mr X passes by a fifteen stories apartment building.
A window washer slips, falls from his hanging platform and lands right on top of Mr X.
They are both killed instantly.

"Freak Accident" says one newspaper. "Random Bad Luck" says another.
"Accidents just happen" people tell his grieving mother.

OR DO THEY?

What did it take for Mr X to be at that PRECISE PLACE, at that PRECISE TIME?
How many circumstances had to cooperate?

Let's not even consider the washer, who fell and landed at 4:22 that day.

If Mr X's brother had not applied for a job?
If Mr X's brother had not gotten the job?
If Mr X's brother hadn't want to tell his brother right away?
If their chat had ended two minutes earlier or five minutes later?
Mr X debated whether to go to the gym or to cook a good supper with a bottle of wine. What if he had chosen the gym?
Mr X just missed the light and waited for 2 minutes before crossing the intersection that led to Wilson Street. What if he had caught the light?
He chose to walk on the north sidewalk because the South one looked muddy.

All this had to happen for him to be at the exact spot at the exact second when the washer fell. Add to that the set of circumstances leading to the washer falling from that window at the exact time and spot. Can we really talk of coincidence? Or of events unfolding EXACTLY as they were meant by who knows what? Once you think about it, it’s the case for every event in our life, good or bad.

I came to this by reflecting on how my killing a cat had come to happen… I had to leave the office at a precise time, I caught one green light, one red light, I decided on going to the grocery store first, the pick-up decided to pull RIGHT in front of me instead of waiting for the empty street right after me… a 30 seconds difference and I would have had the time to break and not hit it… a freak accident? I find it very hard to swallow… it took too much coordination…something crucial about the universe is eluding me...

SO SORRY

2008-07-24T17:44:00.002-04:00

I was driving to the grocery store, not very fast, on a completely residential street full of brand new houses. A pick-up truck decided to pull out from its entrance and pull right in front of me, even though the street was deserted. I grumbled. A ton of water that was in the back for some reason drained out of it as it pulled. I was maybe 3 meters behind the truck.

Then it happened so fast, but so clearly. Suddenly in the midst of the gushing water there was a... cat!... he looked puzzled as he fell, he hadn't even turned back on its four paws, so he really looked like a little fuzzy doll falling thinking: "Wooooah".

Right under my car. I hit the breaks to a complete stop in a big screech of tires. I thought "Oh no. Oh no." I looked in the rearview mirror, hoping to see a furry shape speeding away. I got out of my car slowly, willing the cat not to be still under it. But he was. I couldn't avoid it. I partially ran over its head. Its back limbs were flailing in agony. A small teenager cat with long hair and a head deformed and half-crushed under my tires.

I've never EVER run over anything. Much less a CAT. There was no way I could avoid it. If the truck had not pulled right in front of me, the cat would have fallen behind, on a clear road, unharmed. As it was, it fell from the truck right under my wheels.

The owner and driver of the truck somehow got that something had happened and stopped and backed-up. When he found out what had happened, he cursed loudly. Out of their 3 cats, this one was the favorite, he said. He just walked away to his house, and I couldn't believe he would even come near enough to see. I couldn't leave. By then my eyes were full of tears. I asked a neighbor who was standing there, watching the whole thing with sympathy: "Do you have the courage to put it out of its misery?" "It's dead", he answered. I looked down, and indeed, mercifully, the body was now still. But its agony had lasted two endless minutes. The owner finally came over with a garbage bag in which he scooped his poor little cat.

I drove away and sobbed like a five year-old. I killed a cat! I did. Of all creatures, my dearest one. I got my heart broken numerous times before as beloved cats were ran over. I'm always so sad when I see the body of a cat on the side of the road, but this time, I'm the culprit. One second it was alive and bewildered, the next it was horribly maimed and in agony. By my hand, well my car.

I'm still crying. Shrug in contempt if you will. It breaks my heart.

The Lovely Garden

2008-07-01T18:21:00.004-04:00

Canada Day

2008-07-01T17:50:00.006-04:00

Today was Canada Day, a statutory holiday. Since it is mid-week, the weather was tricked into being gorgeous sunshine instead of our usual weekend grey skies.

The pool was ready and inviting. There was an armload of fresh laundry flapping in the light wind, drying in the sun.

Then Brigitte had the idea of starting a fire in the fire pit to try and burn the accumulated branches and leaves that had been there a while. It had been too rainy and wet to burn before. And indeed, it was still very humid, and the fire exhaled a thick, fragrant smoke. Very lasting, persistent, insidious, fragrant smoke.

After she had to do the same laundry a second time to get the smoke smell out, Brigitte forgot her pyre ambitions and settled in her lounge chair with a book and frequent dips.

A lovely day, as illustrated below.

Sheer delight

A rosebush

Another rosebush

The Edible Chronicle (for my sister-in-law)

Loukhi being grossly disrespectful

Echoes

2008-06-14T15:57:00.004-04:00

Came across a sweet memory...

It's bloody hot, says Circé. What's a black cat to do?

Hail to Mother Nature

2008-06-12T10:56:00.002-04:00

So as we know, nature's freak phenomenons will be on the rise with the planet heating up.

Two days ago, the South Shore was hit by a storm of extreme violence. Wind and rain lashing with unbelievable force. Well protected behind the windows of the office, I watched in awe and jubilation as all hell broke loose.

The return home was a little less pleasant as I discovered my area was out of power. Do we take power for granted or do we take power for granted? The more we rely on electronic life, the more at loss we feel when it fails. No, we can't cook supper. No we can't microwave popcorn. No we can't watch TV. No, we can't check what's happening on the computer. No we can't call or receive calls, except on the lone cell. Food in the fridge will be lost. Once used, the hot water won't keep coming. The fans stand idle. You can still grab a book, but you'll read only as long as there is enough light. As for waking up on time the next morning, it's touch and go since you can't set your alarm clock.

We spent the evening, the night and the next morning without power or much news. Once we were reconnected to the outside world, I discovered that a narrow corridor in Beloeil, Mont-Saint-Hilaire and Otterburn Park was hit by hail. Huge hail. Enormous hail. I was shown a Ziploc bag of the culprits: we're talking chunks of ice the size of my fist!!! I'd never seen anything like it. So for the unlucky people in the hail corridor, the vehicles were pummelled. Cars, from the rusted tin cans to the luxurious sedans, were beaten up like with baseball bats. Windshields shattered, and the tops and hoods completely indented. Nothing deep, yet unmistakable. I'll try to get a picture. (It's actually worse in real life than on the pics.)

Needless to say, the tenderly tended gardens and flower beds were slaughtered. Trees were maimed. But the damage nature inflicts on nature never really shocks me. The damage it inflicted on thousands of cars in my neighbourhood, including many friends', left me stunned. Cars are tough metal things. I thought. All within one hour. Wow.

Dans les brassicas

2008-05-27T19:25:00.002-04:00

Answer: No.

Sunday Sunny Sunday

2008-05-25T18:00:00.006-04:00

A post directly inspired by some green New York posting...