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This beautiful snow falling ... and falling over!

This beautiful falling snow reminds me that it will be Christmas soon. I usually have a shiver of dread when I get to prériode this year. I tell myself that I can not do that before Rudolph's nose is pointing lit, I'll collapse under the corrections and the end of session wrap well. I wonder, anxious, what I'll buy everyone and do not see myself doing other than a race against time, December 23, seeking a gift that will please every person I love.

Not this year, not friends. I even wait until Christmas, you can imagine. Army my new bathrobe fleece and special "Learn to survive the holidays" my dear Oprah, I will prepare myself to do what I do during the holiday season: relax. And this little snowfall invited me to this: breathe, take it cool for the first time since returning home in June.

Why am I so? Does reading Eckhart Tolle is finally bearing fruit? I do not know. What I know is that I'm tired of my Christmas Quebecois year past. Do not misunderstand me, the Christmas markets of Barcelona, Liege and Antwerp were beautiful and there is something very interesting to experience Christmas in the distance. Still, I'm glad to be here this year and experience the holidays with my family. And snow! I know you shovel, last year, you do tricks in their kidneys, but me, except for a few eternal snow in Norway, I have not seen snow since March 2007. A dull moment, right?

I think I write myself this entry as a preventive measure. This year, I do not want to fall into the madness of Christmas. I do not want to be bewitched by this perception that I can not do. We'll all get together at Christmas, as they say. The difference is that this year, I'd get there in peace. Is not this the best gift I could offer?

The snow falls over. The gray is back, perhaps to remind me that November is still there for a while and if I happen to be at peace in December, I have to do whatever I have left to do before then taking advantage of this moment gray is the best, since it is the present moment. He is everything I have.

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Yes we can!

I was talking to my sister sometimes. She has been fortunate to be in Times Square last night. She said she had lived through one of the best days of his life. And I believe her. I was neither New York nor Chicago yesterday, but I still felt the immense serenity that seemed to blow the world today. Everywhere there is talk of hope, change and new opportunities. A black president of the United States. A young man, handsome, intelligent, with a beautiful woman who seems balanced and pretty girls lead the greatest power in the world. The man named Obama speaks well. It has the words Harvard and intonation of the deep South. He has a smile that moves mountains. He is honest, straightforward and organized. I would like as friend, I would like as boss, I want it to be my president.

Now everything made sense: the Jazz had a sense, had a new sense, our discussions were imbued with new meaning. I know it's because of the Indian summer, but the bottom of the air had a sweetness that it seems to me, was entirely appropriate to celebrate the beginning of the Obama era.

Do not get me wrong, I have not spent my day to tell me "Yes we can" and "We Shall Overcome" and chanting "This is the beginning of a new era." My lyrical were stopped pretty quickly this morning. On my way to work, rolling on the bucolic boulevard St-Joseph, I saw, next to a car dealership, the liberal signs installed last night. I guess they were raised as early to show us that for the next provincial election, our dear Jean Charest is always ready. This time, he said he must first think about the economy. I will, but it is still very far for inspiration "obamesque. When I see a liberal blonde lady tell me that I must first think about the economy, I feel like running away in Vermont, because we may have the right to dream now, the countries of the Uncle Sam

Do not even when I leave a provincial campaign stinking opportunism demolish my fondest hopes. Enough that I have trouble believing that Obama, his wife and two innocent little girls will not be corrupted by the American star system. I am not alone in being afraid. I leave you with this excerpt from a letter by Alice Walker (author of "The Color Purple"), addressed to Obama.

"I would advise you to remember that you did not create the disaster that the world is experiencing, and you alone are not responsible for bringing the world back to balance. A primary responsibility that you do have, however, is to cultivate happiness in your own life. To make a schedule that permits sufficient time of rest and play with your gorgeous wife and lovely daughters. And so on. One gathers that your family is large. We are used to seeing men in the White House soon become juiceless and as white-haired as the building; we notice their wives and children looking strained and stressed. They soon have smiles so lacking in joy that they remind us of scissors. This is no way to lead. Nor does your family deserve this fate. One way of thinking about all this is: It is so bad now that there is no excuse not to relax. From your happy, relaxed state, you can model real success, which is all that so many people in the world really want. They may buy endless cars and houses and furs and gobble up all the attention and space they can manage, or barely manage, but this is because it is not yet clear to them that success is truly an inside job. That it is within the reach of almost everyone." (http://www.theroot.com/id/48726 )

Je n'aurais pas pu dire mieux.

Je nous souhaite que ce temps doux dure longtemps. Le monde a besoin de recommencer à sourire, vous ne pensez-pas?

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November, finally!

I know November is not the favorite month of the majority. We see pharmacies cover their shelves with Christmas decorations and say "I think the year has gone so fast and it's too early to think about Christmas." Each year, we wonder who has time and organizational skills needed to start preparing for Christmas in early November. So it's not because I started thinking about my recipe for turkey stuffing that I am glad that October is over.

Why I say the opposite of Dede Fortin shouting to anyone who would listen: "Out November"?

Because October was a little too intense for my taste. Because I have not had time to breathe during the last 3 weeks. Because November is looming as a month rather quiet side commitments. Not too many things planned yet, just my little normal life. And I need this normality, to rest a little, to get back on my feet.

I think November is undervalued, as I believe that July is over-rated. In July everyone is supposed to be happy. We must enjoy the sun on our terrace: no time to doubt the meaning of our existence. It should drink sangria on a terrace, surrounded by people who tan know how to enjoy life. In general, I do not fall out this challenge and I'm pretty miserable during heat waves in July when he does finally said fine. I have written here, I think.

dint of trying to convince us at once statistics on suicide rates that increase, we come to convince us that November should be gray. And if, instead, in November became the new September (like 30 years is the new 40?). I therefore propose to make a second fall. Start anew, with resolutions novembresques: read more, start yoga, walking outside while it is not less than 40, followed assiduously 30 Rock, do more soups, breathe before the rush of the late session. Time is what I did. And November can be the most beautiful of months, if I decide.

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The Groop I'm

Monday evening, I had the chance to see Coldplay's show. The Thursday before, my sister had told me he Kine remained miraculously tickets. She did all the steps and now, without having lined up for hours, I was fortunate to have a good ticket to go hear this group is, in my opinion, the U2 of the 21st century. I will not here us a review of the show. All I can say is that it has exceeded my expectations. Chris Martin was drôle et beau comme un Dieu. Le groupe a interprété avec générosité et énergie toutes ses meilleures chansons. La foule était là, heureuse et enthousiasme. Une vraie belle soirée.

J'ai toujours aimé assisté à des shows. Je me rappelle avec bonheur mon "baptême du spectacle rock". J'avais 14 ans et mon amie Wendy m'avait invitée à aller voir Ronnie James Dio, l'ancien chanteur du groupe Black Sabath. Je ne le connaissais même pas. Ce qui me motivait? La première partie était assurée par les fameux Twisted Sisters, qui trônaient au top des palmarès avec leur seul succès "Whe're not gonna take it anymoooooooore". I remember all sorts of things this evening: the guys who smoked their joint close to home, leather coats, high heels, hair-filled Spray Net, the 80 condensed in a few hours. We were at the Verdun Auditorium and now I know there must be several members of criminal gangs in the audience. I did not know at this time. I just knew I had discovered a universe, that of the rock show.

was funny to see how the audience for Coldplay on Monday night was different from that of Twisted Sisters ago twenty years. Before me, there were 2 pre-teens amused over to take pictures only listen to "The Scientist". Their ticket was worth at least $ 100 and they do not even seem to enjoy it. Their mothers, they, did not stop to fix, swooning, the loveable pal Gwyneth Paltrow. There were all sorts of people, but nobody seemed out of a hideout of the Hells. Young, yes, but several ladies and gents, dressed in a release. I thought I would feel like a young aunt surrounded by delirious. I was really far from being the oldest.

When I go to a show, I feel very often exactly the same way. J'aime voir l'artiste de loin, mais je voudrais aussi m'en approcher. Travailler pour le Rolling Stone et interviewer les musiciens. Parler des chansons, dire aux artistes à quel point ils me touchent, ils me surprennent ou ils me choquent. Je sais maintenant, comme adulte, que je serais probablement déçue de la réalité, que les artistes sont égocentriques et capricieux. Mais il y a toujours une adolescente en moi qui aime idéaliser ces gens qui passent leur vie à se faire applaudir par des milliers de personnes. J'aime croire qu'ils sont sincèrement contents d'être à Ottawa, que nous sommes le meilleur public, que les artistes nous préfèrent à d'autres foules. J'ai senti cela au show de MacCartney on the Plains this summer.

course, I do not work at Rolling Stone and I've never met a rock star in my life (besides singers Tears for Fears, met because a friend had won a competition to CKOI and she was kind enough to invite me to meet them backstage). And I know that if I met one, I would remain speechless, paralyzed by my excessive admiration. I know, but we can always dream.

I think what I love above all a show, it is the rediscovery of the songs I've heard. This week, I took out my discs from Coldplay and I asked myself why I do not listen to them more often. There are pearls in this work, I tell you. And I wish you to pay you a moment of happiness that resembles the one I spent Monday, at the end of October of gray ...

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Autumn Light

This week I have been, for the first time, nostalgic of my year to travel. As I explained at least 10 people, this is not to travel with my backpack that I miss, but this freedom of spirit and action that makes the journey more than a month .

I think those hours spent reading the brilliant Stephan Zweig in Montpellier, the whole morning walking near the sea and then write the blue I had seen dazzle, Croatia and Barcelona. I think in Amsterdam with Annie, then with Nancy, I think of those friends met in India and Southeast Asia, I think of Paris, Vienna, Budapest, Cesky Krumlov, Norway with Kine, to everywhere with Matt ...

I tell myself that I was privileged to enjoy all that freedom. Fortunate to be able to live one year with the main concern of choosing which museum I will visit or what wine I tasted in the evening. I liked walking outdoors in the spring of Norway, taking 1000 pictures of Japanese cherry blossoms, Beijing, Paris and Stockholm. I liked so much that I come back in bits and pieces scattered.

This nostalgia is sometimes blissful, but it also keeps me in the moment, the only one that really counts. Here, right now, the leaves glow of beauty and I do not take the time to look, while a lot of tourists make the trip to Asia for the sole purpose of seeing this fall is mine. Speaking of leaves, I think that's 10 ans que je n'ai pas vu des arbres enflammés de coloris automnaux. L'an passé, nous étions en Roumanie, à ce temps-ci. La lumière était douce et les matins étaient frais, dans le Maramures surtout, mais on était loin de nos ocres et de nos orange brûlé. Je sais que je suis extrêmement chanceuse de pouvoir assister à ce spectacle, mais je voudrais seulement prendre le temps d'en profiter un peu plus. Je ne voudrais pas, comme je l'ai déjà fait, passer à côté de l'automne, la tête enfouie dans mes devoirs de grammaire, mes corrections et mes préparations de cours. Je m'en vais faire du camping avec mes élèves la fin de semaine prochaine. Souhaitez-nous du beau time. I would walk alone or with young people, and take time to enjoy the fall that goes so fast, too fast.

Yes, nostalgia hit me this week, but I must not let it win. Regret because at the German villages and mountains of Austria, I pass the wealth around me. I can choose to be free, choose to continue reading Zweig, keep writing. No stopping me. Me sometimes. Least now, I hope. I'm back. Autumn leaves, do not fly immediately, heart in Hanoi, I have not yet taken the time to look at you and well penetrating my your colors, so pretty when they contrast with a blue sky of late afternoon.

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What Not to Wear ... Version leaders debate

I quietly read my press this morning, drinking my coffee "Mixed Roastery" and watching the yellow leaves fall off. Everything was going well, until that time I started to read the editorial Lysiane Gagnon on again on the leaders' debate.

I largely agree with what she wrote: It is true that the leaders were clearly more comfortable in their mother tongue and should, in Canada, better learn our second language . Where my opinion differs from that de madame Gagnon, c'est lorsqu'elle se met à critiquer l'habillement et la coiffure de la chef du Parti vert, Elizabeth May, tant lors du débat franco que lors du débat anglo. Je suis d'accord avec elle pour l'accoutrement de madame May au débat franco: la veste était trop décontracte, et le pendentif à fleur pas tout à fait assez chic pour la circonstance. Mais au débat anglo, c'est clair que la cheffe écolo a suivi les conseils d'une styliste de la CBC. Son habillement était juste correct, selon moi: assez chic, pas snob, simple comme paraît l'être la dame. Ses cheveux? Corrects, selon moi. Laids, selon madame Gagnon, qui conseille à madame May d'apprendre à s'arranger When is visiting people, nothing less. But the head of the Green Party is a single mother who advocates social values and should certainly not be a millionaire. What would Mrs. Gagnon? She dresses like Britney Spears, Julie Couillard and Belinda Stronach? For men, it's simple suit and tie is always the case. For women it's different. Personally, I admire the simplicity of dress and the authenticity of a woman who does not have the nerve to dress like a rich bourgeois to come and defend people's interest ecologists from the left that it represents. Of course, I would suggest to follow some courses in French, but I salute his courage and wish him to continue to be well enough to stay in her skin herself. His dress and her hair in English debate was a good example for thousands of women "normal" as the company's Dove campaign has been for millions of women "normal" years ago. To look good on television as in life, no need to be a canon of beauty, just be genuine and to have the courage to express his ideas with sincerity, even if chefs do not take too what is there ... Bravo Ms. May. I do not vote for your party, but you have inspired me by your courage, your ideals and your presence simple and human in this world of millions of dollars and tie boring.

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Star for a Night

Last night we celebrated the burial of bachelorhood of our friend John, who married in two weeks. After taking a drink with us (the very good "Elixir of last resort," concocted by Nancy), we subjected to John a pre-nuptial investigation, homemade version of the popular "Wedding Game" where he would tell us he thought her boyfriend Francis had answered questions on subjects as funny (which John speaks with her pussy Odile) deep (What makes John a good partner?). John is worthy of "bonus-dollars" that could spend as he wishes in a sex-shop chic Greber Boulevard in Pointe-Gatineau.

After John had spent his fortune, we headed to an institution of our beloved city: the famous "wheel and pot", well known for its fondues and raclette but also because it is a formula restaurant " BYOW. The people are therefore often quite drunk and playful. I thought we were alone yesterday as the summer is not the time where we usually want to recreate le cocooning à la Suisse. Mais non, c'était plein à craquer. Nous avons bien mangé, bien bu et surtout beaucoup parlé. Jean remarquait que le sien était sans doute l'enterrement de vie de garçon le plus profond de l'histoire... Nous avons parlé du couple (y allant de nos conseils au futur marié), mais aussi de nos expériences de rejet au secondaire. A un moment donné, je me suis tournée la tête et j'ai remarqué qu'il ne restait presque personne dans le resto. Que j'aime ces soupers où le temps file si vite, tant la conversation est intéressante. Nous nous sommes dirigés vers le lieu où aurait lieu la finale de la célébration. Non, non, nous ne sommes pas allés in a gogo bar. Instead, we ended the evening at the famous Pop-O-Bar Boulevard Greber.

was my third visit to this veritable institution tip-Gatineau. Each time, it's the same thing: I feel farther from home than in the more exotic corners where I had the chance to set foot. In India, Haiti, Mexico, I was closer to my roots that Pop-O-Bar in my city. Is that because I'm Snobbs? A little, sure. But it is also something else. I do not know not sure what, sitting at a table in front of the stage, after drinking a shot of Sour Puss, I understand a little better feeling experienced by a Tunisian immigrant frankly landed in Quebec in the month of January. Around us, guys who have Harley coats, girls who would love to look like Marie-Chantale Toupin, old gentlemen who are looking to dance the lambada with girls 3o years younger, a guy who stoned trying to make something that looks like Break Dance. We see in all colors. Especially neon, I'd say. Why go out there? It is a very good question. This is not because we feel it in our place, anyway.

How you describe the place? Pop-O-Bar specializes in Karaoke. What is more surprising is that the vast majority of singers have very beautiful voice. Some may be in without blushing auditioned for Star Academy. Only they are not young and have all the "experience". The girls are not thin, guys are not metrosexuals. They are 35, 45 and even 60 years. It is obvious that they are prepared and they all have their "hit" they sing, week after week. What they do have time? They are waitresses, they are committed. But Friday, the Pop-O-bar, they morph into Celine, Marie-Chantale in Boom or Marjo. And they are beautiful to behold. Their youthful dream reborn l'espace de quelques minutes où ils sont les rois et les reines de la scène et où ils semblent si heureux de "Voir le monde briller devant moé", pour paraphraser la très populaire "Chicane".

C'est peut-être pour cela que nous y retournons. Bien sûr, l'étude sociologique est fascinante: c'est à la fois intéressant et déstabilisant de se sentir si loin de chez soi, à 10 minutes de la maison. Mais je crois que si nous aimons nous retrouver au Pop-O-Bar, c'est que le show y est objectivement bon, malgré les cernes en dessous des yeux des uns et les robes plus ou moins seyantes des autres. L'étincelle au fond des yeux de ces "Star d'un soir" qui chantent hit them alone is worth the trip. And it was cool to see our John (who was quite drunk) singing proudly in front of a captivated audience (nous!) what will be the song of her first dance at her wedding.

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Last moments before the bell until the last letter

My back was held a month ago. At first I was almost alone in school. Afterwards, the teachers arrived, the students there already 2 weeks. The session is actually started.

Yet, in this penultimate evening in August, I feel a bit nostalgic. Funny, it seems that all these years in the school system programmed me to consider the weekend of Labor Day as the last minutes of recess. The bell will ring soon and we will return, even if the portion of dodge ball or flag is not over.

Since I was not too good in team games, I was not too disappointed to hear the bell ringing. I loved the holidays, of course, but receive new books, cover, get new pencils, a nice smelling good clears, a rule that I promised myself (without much success) to never lose a nouvelle classe, une nouvelle maîtresse qui, peut-être, crierais moins après les élèves que celle de l'année d'avant, une nouvelle place dans la classe, de nouvelles possibilités d'amitiés et de rires partagés sont toutes des choses qui me rendaient profondément heureuse. Ce bonheur ne durait pas toujours longtemps et il m'arrivait de regretter, durant un cours de maths somnifère, mes matins de liberté passés à écouter "The Price is Right", mais j'aimais les promesses apportées par la rentrée.

La semaine dernière, je voyais des élèves s'en aller à l'école pour participer aux activités de bienvenue organisées par thereof. I do not envy them. I remember I did not like all these preliminaries. I wanted to get into the thick of things, start learning for real and finally use my new my new notebooks and pens.

The sky was beautiful tonight in Ottawa. You could see the stars twinkle around the Peace Tower of Parliament. We went out with faithful friends celebrate Mathieu. Aperitif at "18" and fine dining in Health Rideau Street. I have not thought too much about my life. To paraphrase Beau Dommage, I "left my job and forgot to make me" the good red English, with laughter and mocha creme brulee flavor caregiver. I forgot que c'était la rentrée et j'ai savouré l'été. Demain (ou plutôt, ce soir), ce sera le dernier soir d'août. Après, ce sera septembre. J'imagine qu'il fera chaud, en septembre. Je me rappelle que lorsque j'étais jeune, je voulais absolument porter mon linge neuf lors des premiers jours d'école. Pantalons de corduroy, cols roulés et vestes de laine Jacob composaient bien sûr les éléments de ma garde-robe automnale que je portais alors qu'il faisait 28 degrés à l'extérieur. J'aurais aimé qu'il fasse frais tout de suite.

L'automne n'arrivait jamais assez vite.

I still feel a bit like that today, even if I try to stay a little longer this time. Tomorrow we'll see the new Woody Allen, oh miracle, was released on 2 screens in Ottawa when he is not released elsewhere. A film by Woody inevitably mark the return of autumn. It only remains for me to buy a nice wool sweater and accept that I will wait for the freshness that will certainly not happen before wearing.

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I was touched to learn, while returning from work, the journalist Michel Vastel died today. I did not know that he was ill. I do not always share his ideas, but I enjoyed the occasion, read his blog and see on TV. I think what surprised me more than knowing death was made clear that he wrote a blog entry today ...! I do not know what were the circumstances of his death, but I find life very strange sometimes. One minute, the gentleman says goodbye to its virtual drives, the next minute he is gone. I read his entries the past few days. He never complained about his health, but rather spoke of Couillard.

Michel Vastel did not see her blog as a personal account, but as a reflection of public space. I think if I was dying, I could not help but talk about it. Mr. Vastel was not a personal approach. He remained faithful to himself until his death. In his last entry, he said he was entering his land. I hope he is in them. He felt that he would leave today? Do we read a farewell letter to the blog or a letter of farewell to life? I do not know.

This event reminds me of the relationship between death and the Internet. I've been saddened to learn of the unexpected death of someone close by email. The total shock. I wonder if, at Facebook and Myspace, we will say goodbye to those we love but we no longer see through these sites. The day I die, do I want to write one last blog entry, to be present on the Web until my last letter? I do not know. I wonder.

I do not want to think of death tonight, I will not sleep well. I'm going to put me in touch with the life that will overflow (well, I hope) Barack Obama's speech in a few minutes to talk to Democrats who will maybe one day mourning for Clinton. I am sure Mr. Vastel that would also listened to the speech. And, even sick, even tired, he would have spoken passionately and eloquently in his blog tonight or tomorrow morning.

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Gratitude

few years ago, my favorite gouroune, Oprah, advised his listeners to do what is called in English "gratitude list". After each day, she advised his followers to note why they thanked life. As I walked on the Web, I discovered a blogger Valerie, who publish at least every two days. I do not promise to do the same thing (you might tanner assez vite de m'entendre dire que je suis contente des 6 sortes de cafés disponibles à la cafeteria de mon école), mais je me suis dit que je devrais recommencer à me demander, à la fin de chaque jour, pourquoi je suis contente de ce que la vie m'a donné, depuis 24 heures.

Voilà donc ma liste pour aujourd'hui.


Je remercie la vie pour:

• L'air frais respiré ce matin. Un beau petit vent. La canicule ne s'est pas installée. Ouf.
  
• Nina Simone écoutée dans mon auto en revenant du travail. Personne ne chante aussi bien qu'elle "Nobody wants you, when you're down and out"
  
• Ce chèque $ 1000, found on my kitchen table, returning to work. No, I do not sell drugs, but instead I bought a Yaris, which allowed me to enjoy the discount offered by the federal government for buying a car less harmful to the ecology.
  
• This organic Colombian coffee tasted with colleagues that I am glad to find
  
• My new students intelligent and attentive. I hope they will also remain challenging throughout the session.
  
• Barack Obama. His smile, his hands, his generosity, his charisma, which will, I hope so, switch the heart and soul throughout America. What interesting picture presented by RDI, the Great Reportage tonight.
  
• Not having eaten Maple Leaf meats in recent weeks.
  
• Having slept well last night, even though it was Sunday.
  
• quietly Find great pleasure to teach. I feel that touch hearts and minds, sometimes. Answering questions after my classes, smile, say hello to more and more young people.
  
• able to have time for myself tonight because I worked hard this weekend.

There, 10-point, why I am happy with my day. And it's not even finished.

I'm still not used to working, I still have a hard time getting up in the morning. I can not say as I listen to Dan Bergman at this time that "everything is going." Without fly on pink clouds and unrealistic, I may decide to lay my eyes on the flowers which spread to my feet rather than the pot-chicken that my path is strewn.

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Have I mentioned my new Dell?

Yes, I've already talked about my new Dell laptop-white shiver. I ramble a bit, I apologize. You see, a week after my purchase, I'm still ecstatic having arrived in the 21st century. Pleased to be able to access the vast canvas magic, sitting in the trailer of my parents. Glad to be able to connect to the Internet for free in my favorite Starbucks (with which I returned today, by the way). Pleased to discover all the features of my toy, which I do not disappoint, to date.

I know what happiness is materialistic and crass is likely that the passenger also my battery. I know, I know. And I just finished the new Eckhart Tolle, and more. But I'm still happy to live in an age where I can drag without too much trouble a huge bank of information. Merely afford me that luxury, which in my case was not an absolute necessity. Glad I found the taste to write and be able to do anywhere, everywhere, everywhere (or almost).

Listening Area music that has a special bearing on the songs of Leonard Cohen, I tell myself that if this new computer can make me write a bit more, be more motivated to hone my classes, to finally put order in all these photos taken during my recent travels, it will not be a toy, but much more. I'll decide what I ferai de mon portable. Je peux m'en servir (comme je le fais souvent, je l'admets) pour explorer, un peu compulsivement, mes sites de nouvelles préférés: Cyberpresse et People.com. Je peux aussi aller voir à toutes les deux minutes ce que mes amis font d'intéressant, en consultant Facebook. Je peux aller prendre mes messages hotmail en attendant frénétiquement la nouvelle qui donnera un nouveau sens à ma vie (ou à ma journée). Ou je peux faire comme ce cher Cohen et me renouveler. Aller voir d'autres sites que ceux que je visite habituellement, écrire autre chose, sortir de mon chemin familier. Ajouter des favoris.

Il fait chaud ce soir. ''On a enfin un été'', some say. Even if the season change will not happen for another month, I sense a new season arrives. In air, in my head and on my screen.

Basically, I want my computer is a tool of freedom, because as Cohen sings:

''Like a bird on the wire,

Like a drunk in a midnight fall

I Have Tried In My Way To Be Free.''

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shall I enter into a school for the rest of my life? My new thrill

I started teaching this week. I work at the same school 10 years. By nature shy, I usually feel comforted at the thought of seeing students I have worked the year before. But if you read a little bit this blog, you know that last year, I was everywhere but at my table. I was walking on a camel in India or aboard trains and ferries Croatian Romanian. Meanwhile, students who are now old were learning about and creating links with my colleagues. I do not regret my trip one bit, rest assured. I still find it hard to go back to school and feel outside the group, just like when I'm moved from primary to secondary.

It also happened to me yesterday, an experience worthy of a film by John Hughes (Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, etc.). I head to the cafeteria and get me a cup of coffee (our school has moved and we have a choice between not one, not two but five flavors of Colombian!) And see some students of 2nd year that I recognize my course of Monday morning. They smile at me. I said to this point I wrong to be neurotic, I will create links with these elders, as I have created hundreds of others before them. I'm about to go see them for a chat when I hear one of them shouting "Laurie, come see us! Laurie! Laurie!" They smiled at me not at all to me. They were happy to see Laurie, my successor, who was coming behind me ... I went and nobody wanted to talk to me. I went to buy my coffee (a good Sumatra) and drank alone, reading my Courrier International, who spoke of the exclusion of Roma in Europe. I consoled myself by saying that in matters of exclusion, there are far worse than me. I went back to my office and I told my experience to colleagues who understood me. I must not be the only one who felt this way, early year, I guess.

At the end of the day, my ego had gotten better, but I still wonder. After 10 years of teaching, why still feel like in high school back to school? Observe others who laugh and seem to know each other since forever, not knowing where to stand, who say hello when laugh, when to speak, when to shut up ... I know I'm not the only one who felt this way in my school. I see young shaved the walls and be excited that the course begins, because they will finally have an official occupation and they will not be forced to "make contacts". I think my discomfort helps me understand what they live. That's one advantage to all this.

I know that this week is the worst. Next week, the season will be a thing of the past.

In the meantime, I do what I always did to console me: I write, I read, I talk to sensitive souls, and I drink good coffee Sumatra. One day maybe I will come out of high school. I do not know. If I do, I'll talk. And I'll buy a prom dress. To celebrate.

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called "The Werewolf"

Hello Francine and Jean-Claude,
Little Winnie is an angel! She is gentle, wise and very obedient, most of the time - except at sunset when it turns into a werewolf. His teeth have foolproof several victims: a tie, two shoes, three cushions, besides toys. And tell her grunts? Terrifying!
Otherwise, Winnie is very sociable. She befriends all humans and dogs, big or small, she encounters. The whole neighborhood is adorable. His favorite playmate pussy Roussette remains, she chased to exhaustion.

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Whyskey 007 and extreme sports ... Maya

Hello Mom Jasmine

How are you?

me it goes really well.

I have a very big news for you ... I decided I did not want to become a spy but rather to get into extreme sports. I am full of really fun activities like cycling, swimming and surfing. Do not worry, I'm never without my masters swim. I know all the rules of behavior in cycling and swimming.
This summer is really great. We often take walks in the grounds of Fort Chambly and people love me very much. Well now I must do dodo, I have a big day tomorrow ... I continue to practice to become a spy case that extreme sports no longer interests me. I love you


Whiskey

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Mont Chatel

Hello Jean-Claude,

it's been what I wanted to write but 1) I am not a fan of the computer and 2) exciting life of my mother and lawyer leave me some respite! But I say better late than never, especially when it is to communicate the good news!

Then immediately say we're crazy about our little Maya is absolutely adorable, docile, friendly, patient with my two daughters, in short, the ideal dog for our family. Maya Queen of Mont Chatel is the envy of some of our neighbors in the neighborhood.

I also believe that Maya is happy with us. Every morning she with me for my morning walk (5:15 am), and pm, it accompanies the march again our neighbors happy retirees who worship as much as we do.

For some time (after lengthy negotiations with strategic and "man" of the house), Maya has acquired the privilege of sleeping in the marital bed (at my feet only). I love this comforting presence. It makes me laugh when at least suspicious sound, it starts to growl, trying, somehow, to give an air of "naughty babysitter who, frankly, does not suit her at all!

is a twinge of sadness that I reflect now to have surgery because she recently had her first period. I say with a twinge of sadness because I think that Maya would certainly give this good very good puppies! But I console myself by telling myself that I could not (let alone my daughters) to let these little babies ... And dogs as "man" is of the opinion that a dog in the house, it is (!!!) enough so ...

Since last September, I and my daughters have visited your site several times and have learned that the little brother of our Maya is still homeless home ... We hope that he finds a quickly! Stay tuned ....

soon as I am able to learn the technique to transmit photos via the internet, I will send you photos of our "nice doggie" which, incidentally, returns to scéance grooming next week.

the pleasure and good afternoon,

Pascale Racicot

Marianne and Gabrielle and the Man!

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Hello Francine and Jean-Claude, I wanted

thank you for keeping me while my parents were away on vacation, my mistress was pretty anxious to leave me ..... but on her return, she soon found that I was treated well and when I 'I saw not even cry, what I usually do for hours .....

I do not know what Herbie has made me a lot but I miss her ..... and also ..... Tucson

Thanks again and I look forward to returning to the "Bed and Bread Fox


Pogo XXXX

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Whyskey volunteered ...

Hello Mom!

How are you?

Me, I'm fine.

I was hired by Peter Rabbit (AKA the Easter Bunny) to help prepare for the big Easter weekend.

He took a picture of me. I really air "cute".

My teachers have been busy renovating the house and they absolutely do not want me to help.

They did not want me hurt. But I really tried to help. They ont prit une photo de moi pendant que j'essayais. Ils m'ont aussi pris en flagrant déli lorsque j'ai tenté de me prendre un biscuit!

Ils ne m'ont pas chicané. Phew! J'ai été très chanceux!!!

Je suis allé j'ai le vétérinaire cette semaine et mes maîtres m'ont dit que j'ai été très obéissant et que je suis en très bonne santé. Ah oui je pèse maintenant 24.5 livres et je suis en très bonne forme!

Bon maintenant je dois aller jouer. Je t'aime. Ne t'inquiète pas pour moi car tout va bien.

Bye
Whiskey

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Shylow ... not an easy life ... Milton

Bonjour Jasmine,
Oui pour les nuits nous avons laissé Shylow libre et depuis ce temps nous sommes capable de dormir toutes les nuits. À partir de maintenant Shylow sera dans une cage le jour (naturellement) pour qu'il puisse se retenir de toutes ces petits besoins, malgré ses bonnes efforts, parce qu'il est très bon, mais il en fait encore quel que un dans la maison. Je t'avous qu'au début ce n'était pas facile sur tout point puisqu'il a une de ces têtes dure, il n'écoute rien, je sais pas si c'est un caractère des fox terrier, mais il n'écoute vraiment rien. Heureusement avec bien de bon conseil de César et Maitre chez soi de la tv, on trouve bien des trucs pour l'éducation Shylow and we have to now have it. But we love him very much, that's what counts.

Can you make a message to your master Jean-Claude, Berger Allmand that are much easier to train. ha ha nice day

Jasmine

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the rogue ... The 4

Hello, Zsa Zsa
Maya has a boyfriend! A small male ten months: Milton, rescued from neglect.
Initially, Milton was very enterprising and sexually Zsa Zsa did not like it. Then she showed her good manners by cutting off an ear piece. So, Milton, was much calmer. They are best friends now. Happiness!
Remi.

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Valentines ...

We were up in the morning of Valentine's Day with a nice surprise. Jasmine gave birth alone in the night and we had the surprise of 4 beautiful little puppies.

Bravo Jasmine ...

1 Female

Submitted by Maude ...

1 of 3 males

Presented by William ...

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Education is very important ...

Hello everyone! As you can see, I spent my review of maternal canine center. I finished 3rd out of 13 stuffed animals. WOW! You should have seen the head of my teacher when the teacher announced the results. I think he still can not believe ... Sure he may be right to be surprised because in course, normally I am most troubled and most playful. I have trouble to restrain my emotions. That must be it becoming a "woman "......( or a female adult). But also I have a great ability to perform under stress. During the course, I was not very good but the review I gave it everything.
short, I have represented our race! We are "hot" we the Fox! Apart from this, I spend a quiet winter. I take a nice walk every day and I like to stick on my masters. I especially love playing with them ... Even I want to play all the time. But them is not always the case. Ha I forget, I also like the trout on the couch!! (Do not you think it resembles a little Fanny?)

you soon!

Full of Kisses xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Charlotte

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it clean ...

Fanny Hello Mom, this is your son Shylow,

Since I arrived here in my new family, I do almost all parts of the house since I do not sleep at night. They keep me away more and more taken because they can not sleep. I was then living in the basement, also in the laundry room on the lower back of the house and as it was not the success they try to leave me lousse into the house to see if I'll be nice. Because it is already 5 weeks and my masters is a great need to sleep. They do not understand my conportement because when the time comes to lie, I lie without a problem, but at night I wake up and cry incessantly.

Despite this I am a very nice little baby, I love to play especially with the little boy of 5 years because it is my size, I eat well and the day I scratched the door to go to my needs j'optien out and why a small biscuit. Sometimes I sembland to go outside to my needs to have a cookie, but it does not work as they watch me.

Ho! I forgot one little thing, I like delving into the laundry basket and fill Grignotte a good bottom of my mistress.

I'm sending you a picture of me waiting to take a bath.

Now I must leave you because I am asked to go play.

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Shilo and Cardio ... Best wishes for 2008