Montréal-la-la

Keepin' it SIMPLE!

2012-02-07T21:51:00.001-05:00

Please check out my new blog!

simplicity in the city

www.simplicityinthecity123.blogspot.com

Enjoy!

Fête des travailleurs: a photo essay

2010-05-04T11:50:00.014-04:00

May 1st, around the world is International Workers' Day. Bo very much wanted to march in the annual parade with the baby and I went along too. This was my first ever political demonstration, but I admit that I enjoyed people-watching the most! (I loved that my zoom lens allowed me to take a lot of close-ups unbeknownst to my subjects). Enjoy the colors of the revolution!

A pretzel is not just a pretzel!

2010-03-06T20:15:00.010-05:00

Acquaintances I've made here in Québec often ask me "so what do you miss about the US?" I can be heard answering, "pas grande chose, vraiment." (Not much, really). Obviously, I miss family, friends, and old stomping grounds, but from time to time, I do think of certain things that I miss.

Things.

Specifically, grocery-related things!

For example, Thomas' English muffins...what different brands call English muffins around here cannot be fork-split, and are severely lacking both the nook-and-cranny-ness as well as that sourdough taste. My mom brings me some once in a while. Yum!

Secondly, pretzel rods. Never thought I'd miss those, or the other missing pretzel varieties (like the big chunky pretzels), but here, my choices are limited to pretzel sticks and the small sized traditional knot. Of course, some might say they all taste the same, but it must be the salt/dough ratio. (Not grocery-related, but there are also no pretzel vendors...not on the street corners, no Auntie Anne's (According to their website: "The supermodel of baked dough."), none in those turning warmers in the convenience stores...no sir, nope, zilch on the doughy pretzels).

Girl Scout cookies--actually, just Thin Mints, (described on their website as "The most enduring and universally familiar Girl Scout cookie."). I happened to notice on Facebook that a friend of mine in NH was placing an order and I jumped in and asked her really nicely if she would order a couple of boxes for me. They arrived a little over a week ago, and I have managed to not devour all of them, yet!

Corn muffins--something I rarely bought in the US, but the fact that they don't seem to make them here baffles me and makes me miss them. No muffins, no muffin mixes (I've seen bran, oat, carrot, blueberry and chocolate chip, but no corn!). OK, so I know that corn is a very 'American' grain, but since most things have crossed the border, why not corn muffins, or at least the mixes? Jiffy, anyone?

The next two are items that my mother, and probably her mother, nearly always had (or maybe still has) in stock: Krazy salt and Underwood Deviled Ham (Apparently, America's #1 meat spread...). I had forgotten about Krazy salt until my friend blogged about it a while ago.

Two very geographically specific items: biscuits and sausage gravy from the Hawthorne Valley farm store (my former Tuesday morning ritual, thanks to chef Larry) and Camphill Copake chocolate chip cookies.

OK, I need to stop...while checking out the website for Thomas' English muffins, I saw that the same bakeries also produce the following brands--Boboli, Freihofer's and Entenmann's (crumb cake! Sigh!)--all unavailable to my American taste buds. I think I'll go eat a couple of Thin Mints and call it a night!

I think I used to be a blogger...

2010-01-30T15:19:00.009-05:00

...what happened?

Well, I had a baby in August and I didn't want this blog to turn into "another baby blog." But now I have somewhat changed my mind. I wanted to blog about my life in Montreal, as opposed to other places I've lived, and well, now my life in Montreal includes a baby!

So, my days are spent with my bouncing baby (who needs an official blog name). She is a delight. She's healthy, smiley, and an outstanding sleeper. We cherish her every day in the present and look forward with anticipation to knowing the person she will become! We go out for one reason or another on nearly a daily basis. At first it was simply to get some fresh air or doing some small errands, but now, in addition, we are in a class together, although the baby's role is rather passive. It's a class called Cardio-traineau: twice a week we, a group of a dozen or so new mothers, gather at a meeting point on the walking/bike path along the river (which happens to be practically right outside my front door), babies in tow in sleds and layers of clothing appropriate to Quebec winters. And then we work out! It's a challenging class that is getting me lots of fresh air and is reconnecting me with muscles and joints that I had forgotten existed. It's a great way to meet other moms from the neighborhood with similar-aged children, especially great for me being still somewhat new in town and looking to establish some female friends. (I think I'm the oldest, but who cares? Not me!)

As for other errands, I am, for the time being, limited to those small purchases I can carry in one shopping bag. Since the little darling doesn't know how to sit up yet (for example, in a grocery cart), she's in her stroller for our journeys. I live in a third floor apt. and walking up those stairs with babe-in-arms does not allow me to buy anything bigger than a breadbox. We will move in June to a 1st floor condo--phew! (More about that later).

Soon I hope to blog about Canada's health care system, the advantages (and hidden traps) of having a baby in Quebec and probably some smaller posts on the day-in, day-out of Montreal mommying, or in other words, life.

Urban nightmare

2009-07-13T08:30:00.007-04:00

OK, so I think I'm getting used to living in a big city. Or something. Here's how the dream went:

I was at some sort of conference where I had missed a few sessions and I found that I no longer existed on the lists of the organizers. Even the pushpin on the map that represented me was gone. So after putting the pushpin back where it goes...but not a white one or a red one...I headed out into the main corridor of the mall-type place where the offices for the conference organizers were. I saw many older people mall-walking and then a gang of 40-something red-t-shirt wearing cool guys walked by. They were quietly strutting their stuff and were led by this guy who was the 40-something version of the first guy I kissed in high school. Then I left the mall.

I found myself in a very rural area. The dirt roads were bumpy with muddy tractor tracks and yet there was a bus stop for STM bus 96. I considered waiting for the bus so I could head back to the city, but it was nice out so I decided to walk to the next farthest bus stop instead. I found myself walking amongst a group of women who were headed to the bus on their daily commute to the city for work. They were dressed in various combinations of black and were pulling wheeled suitcases behind them. They were bitchy. They were painfully slowly tiptoeing their way on the edges of the road trying to avoid the muddy spots so as to not soil their polished fancy shoes. I had on my sensible Keen sandals. About then I realized in a panic that I did not have my bus pass nor my wallet so I started walking back towards the village (? the place where the mall was). I wanted to call Bo and I saw ahead of me a farm that I was familiar with (not any farm that I actually know). Some people waved me over and I asked if I could use the phone. They motioned me towards a door where a very large fake blond woman said she would dial for me. She misdialed the first number and because Bo's number wasn't printed on some list that she had, she wouldn't make another call to the right number.

As I was trying to persuade her, I glanced down at my feet and they were horrifically swollen, which as any good pregnant woman knows, is a sign of preeclampsia and you need to get urgent medical attention. I asked the woman if she would at least call 911 for me. She begrudgingly obliged, told me that no one was answering and then put her head down on her desk and went to sleep. So there I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with preeclampsia.

Then I woke up, cried a just a little, was comforted by Bo, felt the baby move and confirmed that my ankles were normal-sized. All is good.

clin d'œil 9

2009-07-03T15:33:00.006-04:00

Geez, I missed blogging the whole month of June! Can you say "distracted pregnant lady"?!? Can you say "end of the school year chaos"?!? (I'm not out of it yet, but I'm taking a break this weekend to visit friends at Sacandaga Lake in NY with Bo). Here's my class on a field trip to visit the hydroelectric plant at Beauharnois in June. They loved all the equipment required for the visit: hard hats, saftey glasses and special earphones to protect their ears but which also allowed them to hear the guide explaining everything. It is a really cool place to visit and it's free!

clin d'œil 8

2009-05-18T09:55:00.003-04:00

Monday morning. No school today (4 and 1/2 weeks left...). Living room flooded by light. Yummy breakfast. Antique rug back from being cleaned and repaired. Chico and I can't get enough...the colors...the sun...oh my! Have a great day!

Immigration 101

2009-03-31T22:10:00.010-04:00

As I wrote a few weeks ago, I recently became a permanent resident of Quebec. After Toronto, (and followed closely by Vancouver), Montreal is the city that receives the most immigrants in Canada, around 40,000 in 2008 . I am a proud member of the class of 2009.

In establishing myself in Montreal, I had to import my car, register and insure my car, import my furniture and belongings, change banks, doctors, dentists, get a temporary social security card, then a permanent one, procure a temporary work permit, sign up for the famous health insurance, file tax returns in two countries and the list goes on.

You would think that with 40,000 immigrants per year, the government and essential workers like bankers and doctors, would be rather well-informed in dealing with folks like me. But actually,on nearly each occasion, it is I who become the teacher of Immigration 101: Bijou style.

When I first moved, I opened a bank account at HSBC in Plattsburgh, NY. Since I hadn't sold my house yet and still had related expenses, I wanted to keep an American account (also handy when Grandma sends me a check for $25 for my birthday). HSBC's motto is "the world's local bank." Sounds perfect right? Well, it was so far from it. It took four weeks to process a Canadian postal money order. That did not seem very local. And I couldn't do any transactions at the Canadian branches of HSBC. So why did having an account at the world's local bank mean that I had to drive an hour and a half and go through customs any time I had a deposit to make. Not practical, no!

So then I found out that the Caisse Populaire Desjardins, a co-op type bank, offered accounts in US dollars. So I jumped on that. Even though I couldn't have an ATM card and had to go into the counter to do all my transactions, I thought it would be worth it. It probably is the best solution, but it would be better if they trained their tellers how to deal with these accounts. Every single time I've used this account for occasional withdrawals and deposits, the teller has had to call a supervisor to double-check the procedures. You would think that by now I would've encountered all the tellers. Apparently not. The supervisors know me by face and give me a smile of recognition each time, at least they get it.

As of April 1st, I am officially covered by the Canadian government's famous health insurance. But during the waiting period between being granted permanent residency and that date, all my prenatal care was nonetheless covered (one has got to take proper care of those future little Quebeckers). OK, I admit that probably few of the 40,000 annual immigrants are pregnant, but still. You should see the looks on the faces of the hospital employees when I show them the letter that says that my prenatal care is covered even though I don't have insurance until April 1st. Without fail, they start off by telling me, "you're going to have to pay up front and then try to get reimbursed." Then I show them the reverse side of my doctor's orders where the hospital accounting department has stamped their approval. I usually have to do this twice, once for the original employee and once for his/her supervisor. The hospital accountant knows me and greets me warmly each time I come by. Ironically, one time when I was at her office, she was training someone new and she actually said "oh this is good, you don't see this very often." At least she gets it, and thanks to me, so does her new employee.

So you see, thanks to my personalized version of Immigration 101, many Canadian employees are now better at their jobs. Glad to be contributing positively to society. Glad to be of service.

Pet Peeve Paddles

2009-03-07T20:53:00.004-05:00

In 2002, I went to the NY State Fair with one of my friends from college. We went into one of the big vendor tents where, if you're shrewd (or at least breathing), you can get some interesting freebies. Many of the vendors were giving away cardboard "paddle/fans" printed with their company logo. They had wooden handles that resembled paint stirrers. The idea is that it's hot at the State Fair and if you walk around fanning yourself with one of their paddles, it's free advertising. (Chico will always be a New Yorker at heart...but he definitely loves Montreal!)

Well, since living in Montreal, I came up with an idea that would use similar technology. I would get myself one of those fashionably huge purses (a trend I have not as of yet embraced). Then I would fabricate a special pocket in which I would store, not one, but rather a series of such paddles. My paddles could serve to fan myself on a hot day, but more importantly, each one would bear a specific message--a message that would allow me technically to hold my tongue but still inform my fellow city dweller of his or her antisocial behavior. Of course, being in a rather bilingual culture, they would be reversible--in French on one side and English on the other.

Here's a sampling...

For the smokers:
"It's generally not a good idea to smoke when you're pregnant."
-or-
"You're not supposed to smoke in the metro station."

For the litterbugs:
"There's a garbage can right over there."
-or-
"You seemed to have dropped something!"

For the headset set:
"I'm really not interested in listening to your iPod with you."
-or-
"Maybe you should turn off your iPod (cellphone, etc.) and pay a little attention to your kid."

For the fashion-challenged:
"You might want to reconsider those pants (shoes, blouse, etc.) before leaving the house."
(OK sorry, maybe that's a little mean..)

For the oblivious:
"You could help bag your groceries instead of watching the cashier do it while we're all waiting behind you."
-or-
"Of course it's fine if your dog uses the sidewalk as its toilet--the sweet aroma of shit in its various stages of decomposition is delightful."

And lastly, the roadster paddle:
"I think your turn signal might be malfunctioning."

What custom message would you print on your paddles?

No more reading between the lines

2009-02-25T17:57:00.009-05:00

In my last post, I spoke about the many appointments awaiting me in the month of February. All true. But those who have been privy to some "special news" in my life (and there are more and more of you since I have recently been turned on to Facebook) could read between the lines and know there were even more appointments that I wasn't listing. Also, I blamed my lack of posting on my weakened reflective powers, a theory which is actually supported by my posting history in winter 2007, but a few people knew there was another reason. I have been wanting to announce our "special news" but Bo encouraged me that an announcement should come later (sometime in early August, to be exact).

Speaking of Bo...my über-intelligent husband has started his own blog, just yesterday in fact. When reading Un républicain errant, I predict that you will find historical, political, social, economic, linguistic, musical and cinematographic commentary on today's society, particularly today's Quebec society...all in perfect French. Funny, in his very first posting he went right ahead and revealed, albeit subtly, our "special news" with a wonderful little phrase:
"bientôt père." I guess his readers don't have to do as much reading between the lines.

So here it is, with great joy...and little to no subtlety whatsoever:

Bo and Bijou are expecting a bébé in August!

January reflections...

2009-01-31T14:32:00.006-05:00

...bring February appointments.

It's my last chance in January to post something...

It's clear from my blogging history that I am a slow blogger in winter. My reflective powers seem to weaken considerably as the sunlight decreases...well, either that, or maybe I just prefer to be cozied up in my fleecy bathrobe watching a good movie with Bo and then off to bed early.

I actually wrote a post a couple of days ago, but it is so lame that I didn't publish it.

I have of course been enjoying the 'Obamania' that rocked the world on the occasion of his inauguration this month. I happened to have a free period from 11:45 to 12:30. Perfect timing to watch Biden and Obama be sworn in and to listen, sometimes tearfully, to Obama's speech streaming live on CNN online in the faculty lunch room. Several of my colleagues were there and a mom of the school (who is American, living in Montreal with her family for a year). The two of us got a lot of attention with many comments that made it seem as if we were watching our first child graduate from college like "You must be so happy/proud/relieved." and "This is a big day for you." I thought of when I was in 6th grade. For one of Reagan's inaugurations, our teachers brought us all together to watch it and told us "this is important, and you'll be voting soon." I'm teaching 6th grade this year, so sharing my feelings a bit with my students felt timely. Lastly on this subject, I personally love Michelle Obama's style. She looked fantastic at every event.

I've also been knocked out by a horrible cold. Bo's going on his second week, I'm a week behind him. Much worse than the one that inspired the poem in October. I have missed a ton of school, which is doubly inconvenient because I have a million appointments these days that are pulling me out of school here and there.

The biggest of these appointments (so far) was last week when I was officially granted permanent residency in Quebec. (YAY!!!) If I choose, in a few years, I can apply for Canadian citizenship (I would have dual citizenship in that case). This means no more hassling with work permits. I just need to get my Quebec teaching permit, my Quebec driver's license, my health insurance, my social insurance...like I said lots of appointments...

So here's hoping for more sunlight in the coming days. I have a feeling there will be.

Slightly belated and sweetly sincere

2009-01-01T12:00:00.007-05:00

This is one of four designs of holiday greeting card that you, my family and friends, would have received had I written, addressed and/or mailed a single one. Meilleurs Vœux means 'Best Wishes' and although it is an expression that is often used when we don't really have time to think of something more personal or clever to say, (like when signing a group birthday card in a hurry at work or when sending out a mass email (or blog?!)...); when taken literally and used sincerely it is meant to convey all the best wishes to the recipient, who in this case, I remind you again, is you, my friends and family.

Bo and I traveled to see Bo's family for Christmas. Our nephews at age 2 and 4 were in holiday high gear. My parents came to Montréal a few days later. We visited with them at the Hôtel Reine Élizabeth and they came to have lunch at our place before heading home. I've been spending this week on the phone catching up with old friends, putting off school work, and watching just enough TV. New Year's Eve was spent at the home of some close friends in our neighborhood (four out of the eight of us at the table were immigrants (or wanna-bes like me), and not one of the eight grew up in Montréal). After supper, we played a game and toasted the New Year at 12:15 when the last player guessed the word that was written on a post-it and stuck to her forehead.

Wishing you safe travels, warm hearths, laughter and magic this holiday season!

And truly the best wishes for 2009 to you and yours.

Yeah, I taught 'em this!

2008-11-30T19:45:00.001-05:00

Last week, a mom from my class sent me this video clip of two of my students (William and Sébastien) playing the "cups game" I taught them (last year). It's so gosh darn cute I asked if I could put it on my blog!

YouTube - Will, Seb et les verres

Carrying the flame...

2008-11-16T12:49:00.004-05:00

My 6th graders, all 5 of them, had the pleasant task of presenting a play about Saint Martin for our school's annual lantern walk festival. Since 5 students wasn't really enough to do the traditional play, I decided we would present the play with shadow puppets. The kids and I made all the puppets and created the scene.

Here are two scenes filmed during one of our last rehearsals (the music and the lighting transitions in the actual performance were flawless). In the first video, Saint Martin famously cuts his coat in two and gives one half to a poor beggar who is suffering in the cold.

In the second video, Saint Martin is visited during his sleep by angels who praise his selfless act and encourage him to leave his life as a soldier to serve God.

The play ends with Saint Martin expressing his feelings of peace and joy as he leaves behind his life of combat to carry "la flamme de la fraternité."

What a nice message for today's twelve year-olds to share with their school community.

The play is followed by a traditional lantern walk. All the students in grades 1-8 create a lantern during the preceding days and then after the play (held in the evening), the lanterns are lit and the students and teachers head out, joined by many parents and siblings, for a walk around the neighborhood to bring light to a dark late-fall evening (much to the surprise and pleasure of our neighbors). We crunch our way through the blanket of fallen leaves that covers the sidewalks and sing traditional Saint Martin songs. My favorite line from one of the songs is "La lumière, je l'accueille des étoiles, la lune et le soleil, qui se reflètent sur la Terre." (I welcome the light of the stars, moon and sun that is reflected on earth.) Hot apple cider awaits us upon our return to school.

A crisp fall evening filled with warmth, light, brotherhood and peace--one of life's beautiful moments, to be sure.

Bravo my fellow Americans! We did it!

2008-11-05T22:03:00.006-05:00

Halloween 2008

2008-10-31T16:46:00.013-04:00

Here is another poem (that makes two in a row!). This one has an accompanying video and was written by someone considerably more well-known (and more skilled) than me. Happy Halloween!

A Noiseless Patient Spider

By Walt Whitman 1819-1892

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

clin d'œil 7

2008-10-27T14:19:00.011-04:00

Ode to a cold
by Bijou

My head is pounding.
My ears are clogged.
My throat is sore.
My mind is fogged.
My muscles ache.
My nose is stuffy.
My forehead is damp.
My eyes are puffy.
My chest is congested.
My feet are freezing.
My taste buds are weak.
My lungs are wheezing...
Achoo!
I can't stop sneezing.

Splendor in the leaves

2008-10-21T16:48:00.027-04:00

Bo and I had the most lovely Saturday. One of the great things about life in the city is getting away from the city from time to time. We went for a hike and then zipped around and visited a few parks featuring waterfalls in the Lanaudière region of Quebec, about two hours from Montréal. The sky was crisp and blue. The temperature was around 50 degrees. The surroundings were beautiful, but breathing the fresh fall air was the best part!

The drive was gorgeous. Once we were off the island of Montréal, it was as if we were traveling in a tunnel of fall colors!

On the way up we saw this cool hollowed-out old tree that looked as if it had a zipper in it:

When we reached the top of the mountain, the trail was bordered on both sides by a crunchy carpet of lichens and mosses that manage to grow on the rocky crests.

We ate lunch at the top of the mountain as we looked out over the lake down below. As we headed down the other side of the mountain we were treated to many more views of the lake. I love birch trees!!!

Twenty-five years ago, Bo, with a crew of other young woodsy people, helped a pair of lumberjacks build this little log cabin. We were happy to find a group of five campers not only enjoying it, but also doing some needed cleaning.

After making our way back to the car, we traveled through a few tiny villages before visiting these waterfalls. The sun was rather low in the sky and my legs were like jello from the hike, but I enjoyed the falls nonetheless.

The summer that Bo worked on the cabin, he went swimming here once. It's strictly verboten these days.

Looking up at the sky...Looking down at the ground...

Last stop, another spectacular waterfall.

We were so happy all day long. Good thing we took advantage of this amazing day: there's snow in the forecast for tomorrow.

For William Ward

2008-10-07T17:42:00.010-04:00

I got the news yesterday that my friend and former colleague, William Ward, succumbed on Sunday to his long bout with cancer. He was 61 years old. And even though it has been almost three years since I had the privilege of working side by side with Mr. Ward, I am greatly saddened by this loss.

William was perennially greeting someone. Not a soul could walk by without receiving a warm hello, a smile and a handshake (or if you were lucky, a hug). Every greeting was full of kindness and sincerity. His love and appreciation of the people around him overflowed. One could say it emanated from his very being.

William gave his entire adult life to two things: his family and the education of children and teachers. I knew William as a husband, father and grandfather, but mostly I knew William as a classroom teacher at Hawthorne Valley School, a Waldorf school in Ghent, NY. William taught children for nearly 28 years and taught future teachers for many of those years as well. But one could learn many lessons from William just in knowing him. As his colleague for two and a half years, his example reminded me about the importance of love and humor in the classroom. William's dedication to his group of students was tremendous. He showed me and those around him the true meaning of teaching as a calling, not just a job. William wasn't perfect and strove constantly to grow and improve at his vocation...this too was an example to others. He learned from his wealth of experiences and was open to sharing this wealth with those around him.

William was creative and joyful; be it during committee work, faculty meetings or in the day-to-day of teaching. He was quick to understand, quick to forgive and quick to laugh. He was incredibly reflective and able to see the bright side in any situation. William was, fortunately for future teachers and children, able to put a bit of his wisdom into writing. He published many plays for children as well as articles on different aspects of Waldorf pedagogy. He also recently wrote a book, Traveling Light, about his journey with cancer.

William touched so many lives. As I stood before my class today, I thought of William. It was wonderful to realize that lessons I learned from him have touched my current students as well. I send my love and sympathy to William's wife, my friend and former colleague, Andy; his family; and the Hawthorne Valley community in this time of sadness. My heart is with them as they celebrate the life of one of its pillars.

clin d'œil 6

2008-09-28T20:44:00.016-04:00

I went to the AMC Forum today (yes, that's THE Forum where the Canadiens (hockey team) famously played) to see a unique film. It was a limited release film of the last performance of the long-running Broadway show RENT. I hadn't seen the show or the regular movie and I thought it was great. The voices were so powerful and the storyline was very moving (maybe I'm one of the last people to see this for the first time...) I was looking online at some of the lyrics and decided to share one song with you here in one of those scroll-y things (mainly because I wanted to see what one of those scroll-y things would look like in my blog...it is, however, a fantastic song).

Update: Oct. 4th...went out and bought the soundtrack after spending the last week humming the songs constantly. Yay.

"My class is so cool!"

2008-09-20T12:30:00.017-04:00

I've been back with my students for a little over two weeks now. The "back-to-school" days with my students have been absolutely great. I have the same core group of students as last year, I have one new girl and three students left the class. Because I know them already so well, we've been able to get right back to work...and play.

My students and I often share humorous stories at lunch time. The other day, a fifth grader told this joke:

A conversation between husband and wife:
Wife: "When I die will you find another wife?"
Husband: "No, of course not my dear, you are my soul mate."
Wife: "But I want you to be happy. Promise me you'll move on and find another companion."
Husband: (reluctantly) "OK, I promise."
Wife: "Will your new wife sleep in our bed?"
Husband: "Um I suppose so..."
Wife: "You mean she'll use our bathroom and even my closet?"
Husband: "Yeah, probably."
Wife: "Will you even let her use my golf clubs?"
Husband: "No, she's a lefty."

Ha ha ha!

Another day, I don't remember how we got on the subject, we were talking about marshmallows and I decided to try to convince my students that the big round plastic-covered hay bales were giant marshmallows on a marshmallow farm. I had the idea when Bo and I were driving through Québec this summer and I saw many fields strewn with such hay bales. I wanted to take a picture but didn't have batteries for the camera or something. My students were incredulous but because they trust me so much they started doubting their own doubts and pointed out that marshmallows have no seeds. I told them that one needs only to plant some mini-marshmallows and they would grow.

Then one student asked how long they would take to grow and I told them that if they planted them now, unfortunately they wouldn't live to see their crop as it takes about 100 years for marshmallows to sprout. With a big grin on my face I just kept insisting and you could tell they didn't quite know what to think. They knew it was impossible, but they wanted to believe me. It was really funny and quite endearing at the same time.

I also read aloud to them from time to time the tales and misadventures of Le Petit Nicolas. He's the main character and narrator in a series of very funny French children's books. Nicolas says about his teacher "She's so nice and so pretty when we're not being rascals!" If he were talking about my class he'd say: "Elle est drôlement chouette ma classe!"

Summer 2008 wrap-up

2008-09-15T16:44:00.011-04:00

A somewhat random photo essay...

Fall is almost here. I've been back to work for a few weeks now. I noticed it's been almost a month since I've shared anything new in Montréal-la-la. I had so many ideas for clins d'œil, or even full posts to tell you about my summer, but I don't like to things too out of date so I submit to you a large quantity of photos that show some of my adventures this summer:

Late June, a field trip with my students to the Musée Marguerite-Bourgeoys. Madame Bourgeoys was an early settler of and founded the first school on the island of Montréal.

Later in June, Bo spotted this heron right around the corner from the school where I used to work in Maplewood, Minnesota.

Also in Minnesota, here is the construction crew building the new 35W bridge (to replace the one that collapsed). You see downtown Minneapolis in the background. Bo took this picture, I think it's neat.

This one's dedicated to my pal KO. She and I used to talk about running away (from the East Coast) and going somewhere in the middle of nowhere which we decided at the time was Wisconsin. We wanted to buy cheese hats I remember. Years later I moved to Minnesota, just a hop, skip and a jump from the WI-MN state line and she married a guy from Wisconsin. Funny. This summer while passing through America's dairyland I picked up this bag of cheese curds at a roadside cheese stand and nibbled on them while thinking of her.

Just a fun, trying to be artsy shot of my car reflected in a milk truck while driving through, you guessed it, Wisconsin.

Fourth of July fireworks in Jay, NY. (I took a little video too, but like the last one, it's sideways, and some guy's car alarm kept going off from the sound of the fireworks so the audio's not great either. I'll get the hang of it eventually).

I took this picture while on my first bicycle ride with the new bike I bought in July. I ate my lunch at the Parc des Rapides which overlooks the Lachine rapids. It's only about a 15-20 minute ride from our apartment on bike trails along the St. Lawrence river the whole way. I went there several times this summer. There were TONS of blue herons everywhere. The rapids don't look quite so impressive in this photo, but they really are...they're rough and roaring and foamy. Next summer I want to take one of the raft rides they offer. Wheee!

Just outside of Quebec City in early August, Bo and I visited les chutes de la Chaudière. It was gorgeous! Massive amounts of water. Some of which is used to produce electricity.

The light at the end of this tunnel takes you to class at Laval University in Quebec City where all of the buildings are connected by tunnels because of the long harsh winters. This one is very bomb shelter looking but it also made me think of "Mork and Mindy" because of it's egg shape.

Farewell summer 2008. It's been nice knowin' ya!

clin d'œil 5

2008-08-20T16:46:00.007-04:00

Théâtre in the parc...

Last weekend, Bo and I, joined by two of our friends, François and Catherine, attended a free outdoor performance of Shakespeare's "The Tempest." It was one of a few dozen performances that took place around Montréal. We were planning to try to see the French version at one of the other possible locations, but never made it. So even though it was in English, the location was ideal: in the park along the river in Verdun, the borough we live in. We brought our chairs and ate our supper while waiting for the performance to begin. The summer evening proved a little chilly when the sun went down. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the performance very much.

Le moulin à images

2008-08-14T13:22:00.007-04:00

The city of Quebec is in the midst of celebrating its 400th birthday. In 1608, Samuel de Champlain created a permanent colonial settlement, part of la Nouvelle France. They are celebrating big time. The whole year and especially this summer have been filled with unique activities. (You may have heard about Paul McCartney's free concert attended by 200,000 or so; Céline Dion and Cirque de Soleil are later this year and are not free).

Another huge undertaking is a visual extravaganza called "le moulin à images" (the image mill). For forty minutes, images (moving and non...) that tell four centuries of history are projected along 600 meters of concrete grain silos.

Yes, grain silos. An unusual backdrop to be sure. (Just in front of the white roof at center left of the photo, you can see the end of the wharf where we viewed the show). Apparently, the creators took the curvature of the silos into consideration so when they wanted the image to appear flat, it did, but in addition they very often took advantage of the vertical elements of the silos. The silos became fence posts, missiles, candles, even cigarettes at different moments of the presentation. There were other special effects like water and fire and smoke used at several appropriate moments. Very original.

The show was spectacular. I was wide-eyed and smiling the entire time. I found myself bursting into applause or laughter at different moments. It was stunning.

Practically speaking, it was at once an exhilarating and tiring evening. Bo and I met up with Bo's brother and his wife. We chose a spot together on one of the wharves which turned out to be a fantastic spot and then we waited. Did I say we waited? We waited for two and a half hours, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, on the wharf. Sometimes in a little bit of rain. It was nice to be in such good company for the wait.

In addition to the special 400th birthday festivities this year, every year, Quebec City hosts Les Fêtes de la Nouvelle France. Instead of a renaissance festival as you see in so many very un-renaissance-y places all over North America, Quebec City decided to embrace its own history with ten days of dressing up in costumes and re-creating the atmosphere of yore. They have begun a tradition, borrowed from Europe, of a parade of "giants." These are papier maché puppets that stand at least 4 meters (13 ft.) tall. Each is worn by a human who carries the structure sometimes weighing as much as 90 kilos (200 lbs.), but typically around 50 (110 lbs.) or so, on his shoulders. Here are Charles LeMoyne and Jeanne Mance, two early settlers of La Nouvelle France.

This year because of the added attraction of the 400th birthday celebration, giants came from several countries in Europe to help celebrate. The giants from Quebec generally represent figures from Quebec's history. The characters from Europe were often dressed in traditional garb or costumes which represented other worldly themes (we saw one pair named War and Peace). Every so often several of the giants took to the dance floor, which is what they do best. I'll leave you with a video. (Sorry about my poor filming skills...I always forget that I have to take the film horizontally...it's still fun...).

la Coupe Rogers

2008-08-01T10:55:00.016-04:00

Bo's boss used to work for a tennis magazine and he offered us free tickets to the first round of la Coupe Rogers. It's one of the bigger tournaments and it's held right here in Montréal. In fact, every ticket came with two free rides on the métro. Rogers is a big telecommunications company in Canada that sponsors the tournament. The tickets were for the secondary stadium, not the main one, so I didn't see the biggest names (both Williams sisters and Davenport withdrew anyway), but the matches are usually more hotly contested on the Banque Nationale court.

As you can see, the stands are practically empty (because it was a Tuesday and because it was only the first round of play). Which means you can sit pretty much wherever you want as long as you're willing to move if the person who actually holds the tickets to your seat comes along. Here's one fellow spectator who seems to be considering her options very carefully: "Hmmm, now where should I sit?" I followed the shade a bit (there wasn't much of it to follow). But I moved around and sat closer to the action for a while too. Only a teeny bit of sunburn.

I arrived right as the first match was beginning, here's a photo of Maria Kirilenko, a Russian player currently ranked 20th in the world. She beat Anne Keothavong from Great Britain rather easily.

The second match I watched was Canada vs. the USA. Who do I root for? Jill Craybas, the 33 year-old American beat Sharon Fichman the 18 year-old from Toronto

in her first big tournament. If you look up to the pair of guys with hats on, that's where the ball is that Craybas is about to serve.

The last match I watched (Bo joined me for this one) was Flavia Pennetta, from Italy and ranked 18th in the world, vs. Olga Savchuk, who is Ukrainian. It was an exciting match. Savchuk, clearly the underdog, beat Pennetta 6-1 in the first set. Pennetta fought tooth and nail to win the second set 7-5 and kept the momentum just enough to eek out the third set 6-4. Pennetta was an excellent server and had at least a half a dozen aces, the only aces I saw all day. Here she is receiving.

It was a fun day. Next year the women will play in Toronto and the men will come play in Montréal, it alternates year to year. I may sign up to be a volunteer. Got me thinking a bit about tennis again. Yesterday I played for the first time in about five years (the 2nd time in about ten years or more!) with one of Bo's friends. I can feel it today. I'm not planning on waiting another five years this time. Anyone for tennis?

Downtown drive-bys: the answers

2008-07-22T16:05:00.005-04:00

Spoiler alert!

Thank you to Ms. Doll and Mr. Frog for playing...

Here are the long-awaited (?!) results of the quiz:

#1 Minneapolis, MN
#2 St. Paul, MN
#3 Chicago, IL
#4 Cleveland, OH
#5 Buffalo, NY

particularly interesting

2008-07-22T15:54:00.002-04:00

Too interesting for me to resist...via my cousin:

The American house has been TV-centered for three generations. It is the focus of family life, and the life of the house correspondingly turns inward, away from whatever occurs beyond its four walls. (TV rooms are called ‘family rooms’ in builder’s lingo. A friend who is an architect explained to me: “People don’t want to admit that what the family does together is watch TV.”) At the same time, the television is the family’s chief connection with the outside world. The physical envelope of the house itself no longer connects their lives to the outside in any active way: rather, it seals them off from it. The outside world has become an abstraction filtered through television, just as the weather is an abstraction filtered through air conditioning.
James Howard Kunstler (via warmgun)

Downtown drive-bys: a photo quiz!

2008-07-14T11:27:00.000-04:00

Here are some quick shots we took of different downtowns we passed by or through during our trip. All of these photos were taken through, or hanging outside of, the window of a motorized vehicle (in most cases, my car). How many can you recognize?
#1
#2
#3
#4
#5
Answers revealed in a future post!

What a GREAT trip!

2008-07-08T16:41:00.005-04:00

Thanks to a teachers' conference in Minneapolis that paid for our gas money, Bo and I took a good ol' road trip (one could even say a belated honeymoon...). To make a long story short (and to leave room for future posts on the subject), we drove from Montréal to Minneapolis and back, stopping many times along the way over the course of 15 days. We headed west through Ontario, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and Northern Wisconsin into Minnesota and then returned by way of the more southern route through Southern Wisconsin, Northern Illinois, Northern Indiana, Northern Ohio, a little corner of Pennsylvania and all the way across New York State before returning to Montreal, creating a big loop. One of the exciting perks of this loop was hitting all five of the Great Lakes. Here's a look at what we saw...

Above: Lake Huron as seen from Thessalon, ON. We stopped and ate a picnic lunch here on day 2. It also happens to be the site of a customs and border patrol office. Kind of funny that we ate lunch at a border crossing given our situation...we later crossed the border at Sault Ste. Marie and for a change got to see the inside of a different customs office than our usual one on Rte. 15 (87).

Above: Lake Superior as seen from a roadside vista just outside of Marquette, MI also on day 2. We're actually look at a large bay and you can see the clouds coming in. It was a good thing we got this picture when we did, the clouds rolled in and the temperature went down into the 40's.

Above: Lake Michigan as seen from the marina in downtown Chicago on day 8. If you looked behind me as I took this picture you would have seen black clouds among the well-known skyscrapers preparing to unleash a downpour on tourists like Bo and I. We got soaked, but it was worth it, and even fun.

Above: That's right, Lake Erie. On day 10, we visited the Erie Basin Marina near downtown Buffalo with one of my dear friends (who I've known since college and don't get to see often enough) and her children. We enjoyed a picnic, climbed 83 steps to an observation tower and enjoyed hunting for treasures on a little beach.

Above: Last but not least, this sunset was captured on the shore of Lake Ontario near Pulaski, NY. This last in the series was during the last light of day 12 before we took a sharp right and drove among the many lesser, but still great, lakes of the Northern Adirondacks.

I was, we were, as you can imagine, really excited to get to see all the Great Lakes during this one trip. Add the fact that we visited many of the major cities on these lakes and several major rivers, and you can call this a river-and-lake economy immersion trip. Bo was totally in his element. Being that I was on vacation, visiting with faraway friends and showing all my old hangouts to Bo (not to mention swimming in as many hotel pools as I could), I guess I was in my element too.

Eggs-actly my point

2008-06-11T18:07:00.004-04:00

I didn't really think that my pigeon story was extremely original (kind of like the pun in the title of this post!), I just knew that in my daily life, it was entertaining.

My mom forwarded this to me...

Pigeon Eggs

...don't know how she stumbled upon it...it never occurred to me to look for other similar stories even though I knew they must be out there.

It goes back a few years...ahh, the universality of the human, er, pigeon experience.

It's all Pandora's fault.

2008-06-05T21:10:00.006-04:00

I recently studied Greek mythology with my students. Here is a translation of one source's version of all of the "bad stuff" that Pandora released from her infamous box to plague humanity forevermore...You have to read it all the way to the end...it's hilarious. In fact I suggest you read it aloud to someone, it's even funnier!

"Old age, hard labor, sickness, vices, anger, envy, covetousness, jealousy, sarcasm, cynicism, violence, intolerance, injustice, infidelity, famine, drought, pestilence, war, religious persecution, apartheid, taxes, pollution, inflation, unemployment, fascism, racism, sexism, terrorism, communism, nepotism, cubism, patriotism, nihilism, totalitarianism, plagiarism, vandalism, tourism, dogma and schizophrenia, kleptomania, claustrophobia, xenophobia and hypochondria, insomnia and megalomania, narrow-mindedness and lack of conscience, egoism and swindling, corruption and censoring, gluttony and pornography, delinquency and vulgarity, bureaucracy and complacency, obesity and acne, diplomatic immunity and traffic jams, electoral campaigns and urban development, modern architecture, fast food, elevator music, amusement parks, organized crime, advertising, alcoholism and drugs, sodium monoglutamate, nicotine and nuclear energy, data processing, fanaticism, insanity and rain, metal garbage cans and many, many other things."

Score one for the humans.

2008-06-03T20:50:00.010-04:00

In Montréal, as in most big cities there are pigeons. A lot of them. They are generally flying rats that eat anything, poop a lot and are rather noisy. Sometimes, to a newcomer or a child for example, they can be pretty, but in everyday life, they are more nuisance than gift of nature. Don't get me wrong, I love nature, but I also love my sleep and the pigeons who are attracted by our back balcony seemingly love to rob me of it.

We knew that the possibility of the presence of pigeons existed at this apartment when we saw that the former tenant had this guy hanging from a cord. That's our bedroom window. Yes, lucky me, I have a view of a big plastic bird. I haven't named him. I think I will. Any suggestions? We learned pretty quickly that the fake owl does nothing to keep the pigeons away, although I've never actually seen a pigeon land on the owl, so in that sense I guess it is effective.

Then I had the idea of hanging some shiny, reflective things from the balcony and I purchased this St. Patrick's day garland at Dollarama. It makes green flashes of light dance through the kitchen in the afternoon.
Still thinking I was on the right track, I wondered what other shiny things I could hang from the balcony. I looked forward to future holidays so I could purchase additional garlands at Dollarama. Then one day while waiting for a bus I saw, as I've seen more than a few times, a CD sitting in the road. It had obviously seen better days and I thought it would be good recycling to re-purpose the unplayable disk as pigeon deterrent. The best part is the handwritten title of the home-burned CD, (which unfortunately washed off over time): Bomb Ass White Booty. I kid you not.I had grand ideas of collecting any abandoned CD or other durable shiny thing and creating a shiny reflective moving curtain or sculpture if you will. But I soon abandoned my artistic thoughts when we began to see little piles of twigs in the corners of our balcony. I have no photos of these "nests under construction" because we disposed of them promptly, not wanting the enemy to make himself any more at home on our balcony than he or she already was.

We destroyed a dozen or so half-built nests, each time hoping the pigeons would get the message. Then one day last week we got a response:

A freakin' EGG! No nest, no ruckus. Just an egg sitting on our balcony. It's actually bigger than I thought it would be. Check out the photo of the egg next to an ordinary walnut.
We snatched it up and I put it in the refrigerator where it sits today. Yes, we disrupted the precious cycle of nature. And no, I'm not planning to make an omelette, nor am I planning to feed it to my cat. My friend Doug would encourage me to "eat locally," but I liken it to cooking up the mice I caught in my former house in the country. Bo is going to figure out what to do with it. Eventually it may just end up in the trash, I suppose. But we can nonetheless hold our heads high knowing there is one less pigeon in Montréal.

clin d'œil 4

2008-05-25T11:45:00.002-04:00

Columbia County, NY. There's no place like home. I have been fortunate to call many places home in my life and a little piece of my heart holds the memories of each one. This weekend, I took a group of my students from Montreal on a trip to this rural region of NY State that I called home for four years. It was fun to share it with them.

clin d'œil 3

2008-05-19T16:43:00.007-04:00

This is Bo's cousin René and his wife Ida pre-kiss as her 50th birthday is celebrated with a huge surprise party. It also happened to be the couple's 28th wedding anniversary. René comes from a family of 11 children so I met a lot of Bo's cousins at the party. We ate méchoui (BBQ pork, very very good) and a birthday cake drizzled with homemade maple caramel (gotta love Québec!). A good time was had by all! (...which has nothing to do with the blurry photo. I happen to like it just the way it is).

I'm so a-mused

2008-05-12T21:18:00.007-04:00

The other day on the metro I saw a young woman with a sketch pad. She was discreetly observing a passenger across from her and sketching rather hurriedly. The train was not packed, but there were several people in the general direction of her glances and I couldn't tell which one she was drawing. I started thinking about which one of them I would draw and I had chosen a completely bald man with twinkly brown eyes, John Lennon glasses, a rosy complexion, in a jean jacket who was smiling at his friend as they talked. Whether it was him or someone else, I was dying to see her drawing and I was hoping she would get off at a stop before mine so I could try to get a glimpse of her sketch pad.

My mind got distracted by something for a few moments and I was staring at the window as the cement walls streamed by in the dark tunnels when I noticed in the reflection of the glass (a handy observation tool when you want to look at fellow travelers but don't want them to know you're looking at them...) that she was now drawing me! Her eyes were darting between the page and my head, just like she was doing with the other "model." Now I really wanted to try to look at her sketchbook, but at the same time I didn't want to turn my head so that she would know I was "on to her." I wondered if she was studying something in particular for an art class, like noses or ears. I inwardly tried to make my nose and ears as interesting as possible. This was difficult as you can imagine, especially as I wondered if she had noticed me noticing her earlier and whether she was toying with me, realizing that I was now trying not to look at her.

Anyway, it all came to an end when the train arrived at my station and as I prepared to get off, the artist in residence closed her sketch pad and got off just ahead of me. So just as this young artist found something in our shared travels interesting enough to draw, I found it interesting enough to write about.

It's funny being observed. Sometimes you just have a feeling that you're being watched.

On this same afternoon, as I walked from the metro to my apartment, I saw a little boy who was blowing bubbles from his third floor balcony. The sunlight made the bubbles sparkle and dance as they floated up, and down, before a current of air caused them, one by one, to disappear. Three, four, five times I happily watched the boy bring the little plastic wand to his lips and send the bubbles on their brief flight.

I finally stopped walking so I could watch for a little longer and made a mental note to include bubble-blowing from the balcony as an activity to be enjoyed by future children in my life. Just then, the little boy noticed me watching him. He stopped briefly and I thought 'oh no, I've made him self-conscious.' Then he brought the wand to his lips again and blew, but he missed the mark and nothing happened. 'Oh no, I've made him nervous, but good for him, he's not giving up.' Next try, one little bubble came out. 'OK, the next one, you can do it...' As much as I was enjoying watching this moment of childhood, I was the intruder. I waved and smiled and continued on my way.

Conclusion: Blow bubbles from your balcony. Draw a picture. Inspiration can be brief and interrupted by well-meaning observers.

clin d'œil 2

2008-05-04T15:45:00.006-04:00

Earth Day 2008. Here are some of my students picking up trash at a local park (Parc Somerled) where we eat lunch and play once a week. I have better pictures, but this one protects their precious little identities.

clin d'œil 1

2008-05-03T12:46:00.008-04:00

In my French-English dictionary, clin d'œil is translated as a wink. It is also used to indicate an instant in time, a glimpse. (The best pronunciation tip I can give is that it's close to "clan doy.") I plan to share clins d'œil often to give little glimpses into my everyday life. I have a few to catch up on, but for the first, I offer a shot of l'Hôtel de Ville (town hall) of the city of Montréal. This was taken last night while Bo and I went for a short walk after dining in Old Montreal with another couple to celebrate Bo's recent birthday.

A bijou by any other name...

2008-04-22T20:40:00.011-04:00

Caution: this post may induce flashbacks of the 1970's.

Beginning in my early teens and lasting through age 37, I would find myself doodling my first name followed by the last name of my current heart's fancy. Girls think that this practice will bring some sort of luck. Positive thinking. I like my last name and the family that comes with it and have thought about how my mother's maiden name is not carried on by her and her sister because they have each taken their husbands' names. But nonetheless, I always assumed I would take my husband's name when I got married. I was always reassured by the fact that I have a brother and a lot of male cousins on my father's side of the family to carry on the name, because, of course, all of us girls will get married and change our names.

So then I got married. As you know, my current heart's fancy is Bo. Having reached "a certain age," or a certain point in American culture, many people asked me "so--are you keeping your own name or are you taking your husband's name?" We received many cards and gifts and checks with all the permutations of "Bo + Bijou" possible. One check simply said Bo + Bijou. My American acquaintances didn't seem to know what to expect. Out of a dozen close female friends of my generation who are married, only two of them kept their last names. Bo actually has fantasies about becoming a famous writer and using my last name as his nom de plume.

As you also know, Bo is from the province of Quebec. In Quebec there is a civil law dictating both parties in a marriage shall keep their own last name. It's in here somewhere, article 393 to be exact. It was actually stated during the civil ceremony. So I am the same Bijou I have been since the day I was born and Bo is Bo.

Interestingly, the tradition of marriage is rapidly fading in Quebec. Couples form and stay together without getting married. Or they form and split up without the messy divorces so common in the US.

What about the children of these modern couples? Whose name gets carried on? There are generally two answers: they either have the father's last name or they have two last names, mom's and dad's, sometimes hyphenated, sometimes not. In my class of 16 students, seven have their father's last name, eight have two last names and one has her mother's last name.

So what happens when these kids start having kids? This tradition has been going on long enough that we know the answer. The two-named people who get together with other two-named people, married or not, have some choices to make when it comes to naming their children. They can do what they want within a limit to the number of last names a person can have (2, I think). They can even create a totally different name (although the only people I've actually ever known who have done this are all Americans).

Actually, my friend from junior high school is the first person I've known personally who had to face this choice. She grew up with a hyphenated combination of her mother's and her father's names. Now she's a mom and her kids have a triple hyphenated last name. Fortunately the names are short and in its entirety, it has five syllables. Just imagine if Rafaela Gabriela-Sarsaparilla decided to complicate her simple relationship with her aardvark and have a baby with Albert Andreas-Amardillo!? PHEW! All those names over and over can really wear you down. (Forgive me Schoolhouse Rock, I'm actually teaching pronouns to my students right now and I can't get this episode out of my head...I added the hyphens for effect.)

Thanks to my in-laws for giving Bo a nice (and simple) name. Thanks mom and dad for giving me a nice (and simple) name. Thanks Quebec for making the decision for us to keep them.

Busted!

2008-04-09T21:30:00.010-04:00

I got a traffic ticket today! How so, you might ask, being that I use public transportation? The answer is JAYWALKING! That's right freakin' jaywalking! Apparently the police are on a campaign this week to protect the safety of the "piéton" (pedestrian)...Nobody informed ME!

By the way, out of the half a dozen or so people to whom I mentioned this news, all locals, NONE of them has EVER known anyone who got a ticket for jaywalking!

These law-abiding citizens shown crossing le chemin Queen Mary last November waited for the little white man to light up before they crossed.

Alas, tomorrow, I shall do the same.

Signs of Spring

2008-04-07T16:58:00.024-04:00

Yes, seriously...here are a few reasons that I know spring is here despite the massive amounts of snow that remain (melting more and more everyday!):

First of all, there's Poisson d'avril:

In French this means April fish and it is the equivalent of April Fool's day. April 1st was a Tuesday this year, and therefore a regular school day. In the five minutes I had in my classroom before my students arrived I managed to:
1) turn a few of their desks around facing the back of the room. Most of them noticed but one went to nonchalantly put a book away and it fell to the floor because the closed front was where the open back usually is.
2) turned a painting of a fern upside-down. One by one during the day someone would spontaneously say "Hey the picture's upside-down." One of the extremely rare times when their inability to pay attention when their classmates speak paid off.
3) switched the drinking cups to the shelf where the bowls go and vice versa...this one was pretty effective and we haven't switched them back yet for some reason.
4) switched the chairs of the tallest student in the class and the smallest (who was away on a trip). This one was the best--she sat down with a thud and then, laughing, said "Hey Madaaaaame!"

The actual tradition of "poisson d'avril" involves making a fish out of paper and sticking it on someone's back without them noticing (often after having written a silly little "kick me" or "I pick my nose" type comment on it). It was a rainy day so recess was indoors and my students got pretty riled up by this particular activity, as you can imagine.

Otherwise, their jokes were along the lines of "look over there Madame, there's someone at the door...(pause while I obligingly look...), poisson d'avril!" Kind of like a "made-ya-look" gag. Found this info on a "geocites" webpage:

...dating back to the 16th century when Charles IX, following the Gregorian Calendar, decreed Jan 1st as New Year's Day, rather than April 1st, (Solstice). Those who didn't follow the new calendar were called "fools" and sent invitations to fake parties and the like. French children fool their friends by taping a paper fish to their friends' backs--when discovered, the child (who taped the fish) cries
"Poisson d'avril!"
Why the connection to fish? Some believe that it's because the sun is leaving the zodiacal sign of Pisces at this time. Some think it's because it was not permitted to fish at this time of the year. Others say it's because some fish are pretty dumb and easy to catch!"

Hmm don't know about that last reason...Bo says it's actually the most likely true explanation and that in French someone who is gullible is sometimes referred to as a "poisson."

***

Secondly, asphalt. I never thought I'd be so happy just to see asphalt. It's been a long time my dirty gray friend. FYI, potholes in French are called nids de poule, which means "chicken nests" and is pronounced "needapool." Apparently Montreal is known for having lots of nids de poule and for not being so great about fixing them.

Thirdly, birds. Lots of them, they're springy and they sing. Except for the seagulls. They screech and they're garbage pickers.

Fourthly, flowers. Yesterday I saw little yellow crocuses, just like these, peeking out of the earth in a very sunny spot. I've also seen the beginnings of tulip leaves and other spring perennials fighting their way through the debris left behind by the snow melt.

Fifthly, water. Up until recently the only liquid water I had seen for quite a while was the water coming from a faucet or in a toilet bowl. All the rest of the water was in its frozen solid, slippery state. Now, there's water everywhere. Snow is melting, creating lakes, oops, I mean puddles, everywhere, dripping from awnings and rooftops, falling from the sky, and most importantly flowing down the river in front of chez nous (our balcony has no more snow on it--anyone want to stop by for a margarita?).

Finally, fashion. Today I wore shoes other than boots to work for the first time since November. It was wonderful! I even wore a skirt! (I strategically only wore skirts on the rare days when I had to take my car to school all winter long, otherwise...brrr.) The kids at school have switched from snow pants to rain pants to play in the snow, and they now sport rubber puddle boots instead of their big clunky snow boots. The colors are brighter too. I observed two different girls today that actually looked like little flowers.

No leaves in sight on any of the trees, but buds, lots of buds. Lots of spring still waiting to happen. I'll keep you posted.

Famous last words

2008-03-24T13:07:00.004-04:00

In sincere hopes that winter is loosening its grip on Quebec, I submit this series of photos to show you what a Quebec City winter can be like. On a recent trip to the region (late February), I was amazed by the snow "tunnels" created on otherwise typical suburban streets. In this region, they don't haul the snow away (except on major streets), like they do in Montreal, so when it snows a lot, and frequently, it just keeps piling up.

Notice in the above picture the height of the third floor balconies!

Notice in the above picture the speck of black at the same height as the dumpster, but along the snowbank to the left...that would be a full-grown human being walking down the street! What you can't see in the picture is the row of houses hidden completely by the snowbanks. It must be claustrophobic to be in those houses.

Notice the street sign, slightly bent from the weight of all the snow!

So much snow!

Plug for Doug

2008-03-09T10:13:00.010-04:00

This post has nothing to do with life in Montreal, but it's well worth reading...

Back in high school on Long Island I was in an advanced French class that had juniors and seniors in it. I sat near Doug Fine, a junior who I knew already by reputation, but never had the chance to get to know. I was a senior at the time. Doug was one of the smartest and funniest and cleverest people I had ever met. (He was also a great musician and athlete--some people are just naturally good at everything!). We became fast friends and spent a good deal of time together that year and laughed a lot.

I lost touch with Doug after he went to college, but by the grace of Google, I found him again last year. He's a successful journalist, author and environmentalist and he is still extremely smart and funny. I haven't bought his books yet, but when I finally sell my house in a few weeks, I intend to. (No, his books are not that expensive, money's just a bit tight chez Bo and Bijou paying that mortgage on top of our normal expenses here). In the mean time, I content myself and entertain myself by reading his blog: Dispatches from the Funky Butte Ranch. Doug is currently living on a ranch in New Mexico: raising goats, living "off the grid." He drives a "R.O.A.T (ridiculously oversized American truck)" which he fuels with waste vegetable oil from fast food restaurants.

Doug has a way of telling the stories of his everyday adventures with a great deal of humor and intelligence. It's worth reading the comments too; the discussions can be quite interesting. Doug appreciates comments, always replies and would especially appreciate advice on certain delicate aspects of farm life and goat-rearing that us Long Islanders just didn't pick up between soccer practice and shopping at the mall.

So from the total opposite side of the continent, I warmly suggest that you become a reader of Dispatches from the Funky Butte Ranch and that you go here to buy his first book: Not Really an Alaskan Mountain Man, and go to Amazon.com to pre-order his second book: Farewell, My Subaru. Doug has recently added a video to his website that gives you even more insight into his quest and his personality. You will be entertained and inspired, trust me.

Metro riders on the storm

2008-03-08T21:36:00.007-05:00

I knew when I moved to Montreal that I would have a new experience of winter. I have enjoyed very mild winters for several years now, and Montreal has too. But not this year, which also happens to be my first winter as a Montreal commuter.

A little bit of November snow was followed by two huge December storms, exactly two weeks apart, each one depositing a good two feet of snow on the metropolis. My car became a nondescript white mound along with those of my neighbors. These storms were followed by regular blasts throughout January, February and now into March (the winds are rattling my windows as we speak and all I see out the windows is whiteness). It seems to never snow less than 10 inches at a time.

The way the plowing works for the smaller streets is that at some point, little orange signs are attached to the normal parking signs announcing a twelve-hour period when you must move your car to allow for plowing. They do the sidewalks too, and they actually remove all the snow and haul it away somewhere in huge trucks. Where I used to live, this took about five to seven days to occur. Since there was absolutely nowhere to move the snow until this happened, it was best to just leave my car parked and once and for all, join the masses on buses and subways.

I’ve already become quite used to it. The commute from my new apartment takes about the same length of time as the drive from my old apartment. It is much quicker though, than the bus/subway journey from my old apartment. When it snows a lot, the streets are much narrower, and it becomes harder for the buses to maneuver, causing major delays and detours. I no longer have the luxury of arriving early to school, but I’ve only arrived late once. Public transportation is so much better for the environment, and I’m definitely saving money on gas.

I use a combination of buses and subways depending on the timing. From my old apartment I rode the blue line of the metro, but from the new place I use the green line and the orange line. About half of the time, I can find a place to sit, but standing or sitting, I am up close and personal with my co-city dwellers. Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes.

There are many students, mostly high-school age: girls with guitar pick earrings and streaked hair, boys with an abundance of hockey gear, a wide variety of school uniforms and backpacks. I enjoy, sometimes, listening to their conversations. My bilingualism enables me to nonchalantly eavesdrop on snippets of conversations in French and English. Presumably there are other teachers, given the time of day, but it’s not so easy to pick them out. Teachers dress very casually in Quebec.

The students don’t possess a great deal of bus etiquette. They tend to clump up anywhere and block the way for others instead of moving to the back, and most annoyingly, they jump in line with their friends in what are otherwise, very orderly waiting lines. If there are other teachers around me, they are not as vocal as me to speak up and say, “Hey, you were not here before me and you’re not getting on this bus before me!” They actually respond pretty well, they know they’re not supposed to do that; it just takes a tiny bit of courage and interest to say something. Sometimes it just takes a bit of eye contact and a “back of the line, buddy” gesture to send them on their way. Unfortunately, there are occasionally adults who cut the lines...setting such a great example for our youth.

I tend to spend my commute people watching. I like to look at their shoes, and accessories, like their eyeglasses (I don’t know why!?). It’s usually really crowded, and it’s not always easy to manage reading material. Sometimes I listen to my iPod to ease the abuse on one of my senses. I am always looking for a familiar face. I also like to read over people’s shoulders or read the front page of the paper they’re holding across from me without them noticing. Often I think about the school day ahead of or behind me.

But I do love people watching. The people around me represent an incredible variety of cultures. Having lived in Minnesota and upstate New York my whole adult life, my experience has been a little lacking in the multicultural area. I am always amused, when I do steal a little time to read myself, by the fact that every so often when I look up and around, there is a completely different group of people around me.

When things are running on time and it’s not too hot or too crowded, I liken these daily movements to gentle waves rolling on and off the shore, rather rhythmical and smooth...but during those occasional chaotic commutes, I feel more like a salmon swimming upstream!

South of the border: a photo essay

2008-02-26T20:41:00.005-05:00

I said my next post would be about my commute in Montréal, but at the moment, my commute is far from my mind as I spend a few days in South Carolina. Here's a look:

All of the above pictures were taken at one of my favorite Hilton Head restaurants:

Here's a new friend I met on the golf course...he's a little guy.

Boxing days...

2008-02-17T21:22:00.007-05:00

Happy 2008!

I have had some settling to do recently, which I’ll tell you about in just a moment, and I haven’t found the time to write about it until tonight.

First of all, Bo and I traded our Urban Arbres for Face au Fleuve (see future entries...). We moved just before New Year’s with the help of a small friendly moving crew and many of our local friends. (Merci Alain, Renaud, Pascal, Alexandra, Isabelle et François!!) Our new apartment is cheaper, closer to my school, and has a much better layout than our previous apartment (much more storage too). The photo will show you why most Montrealers move on July 1st. Still, it could have been much worse!

Less than a week later, work permit in hand, we went to my storage unit in Plattsburgh and my parents helped Bo and I to empty it! (Thanks Mom and Dad!) A truckful of my personal goods crossed the border with no problem at all. For the first time, Bo’s and my possessions were all under the same roof—which suddenly seemed like a very small roof! We’ve spent our weekends arranging furniture, hanging shelves and pictures and placing things in their rightful places.

My new commute is about half as long. I travel by public transportation and it takes right around 45 minutes (the same that it took with my car from the old apartment). The commute doesn’t seem long at all and while riding the bus, or subway, or waiting for one or the other, I actually read an entire book for pleasure this month for the first time in a long time (I’m ashamed to admit how long...). I also read passages for school. The next post is about my experience in public transportation (transport en commun). I wrote it before the move, but never posted it, and it’s still a glimpse into the routine. I personally used my car yesterday for only the 3rd time since I went back to work after the holidays.

My professional life has been busy too. There have been many special events at school (Mardi gras, Open House, and before the holidays, my class performed a play, I performed in a play with my colleagues and there was a huge parent assembly). Recently, a friend of Bo’s, who works at the Université du Québec à Montréal (UQAM), invited me to give a pair of lectures to her education students. That was a new experience for me, something I had been wanting to try. I was nervous, but I think I did pretty well. We are already discussing dates for next semester, so I must have done all right.

Here is Chico's impression of an ostrich on moving day (if you look closely towards the bottom right of the bike rack, you can see his two little ears...). Because his face was hidden, he thought he was invisible. Cats are troopers though, Chico adjusted very quickly to his second move in six months. (By the way, I looked up Chico on Wikipedia yesterday and learned that Pope Benedict XVI's cat is also named Chico...great minds think alike...but maybe that means I need to change Chico's name to Chico II).

Life's most beautiful moments...

2007-12-12T21:09:00.002-05:00

Bus 67 heading south on Saint-Michel stops at the corner of the Boulevard Rosemont. One day when I felt like walking the last bit of my journey, I got off at this stop. I immediately noticed the hair salon on the corner, one of the first businesses to decorate its windows for Christmas. Among the decorations was a large sign, which in all of its calligraphied majesty, expressed the following mind-blowing philosophical sentiment:

Les plus beaux moments de la vie se partagent en offrant...

...un certficate cadeau.

Translated into English these words of enlightenment mean "The most beautiful moments in life are shared in the offering of...a gift certificate."

Well, I'll be darned, nobody ever told me that before! I even went to college. And graduate school. I never knew the secret of sharing the most beautiful moments in life was so simple! I'm sure that's what my brother intended when he sent me an Amazon gift certificate last year! Now all my loved ones know what they'll be getting under the tree this year! I'm sure my local retailer would love to sell not only the gift certificate, but also some must-have decorative packaging as well.

And...the sign is in a hair salon window! Personally, getting my hair cut has never been one of the most beautiful moments of my life, but wait, it doesn't have to be, it's just the offering of the gift certificate itself!

OK, maybe if it was in a jewelry store window, one could imagine the wedding proposals and such. Maybe something like this? "Will you marry me, chérie? Here is a gift certificate to put towards your engagement ring."

Or if the sign was at least in a restaurant, there would be the social gathering attached to the redemption of the gift certificate. I picture friends and family around the table, living life, breaking bread. Those are what I call beautiful moments.

Are you there Père Noël? It's me, Bijou.

2007-12-12T20:25:00.001-05:00

Besides world peace and instant weight loss, here are some untangibles (or unexist-ables) that I'd like for Christmas this year:

1)Improved etiquette for certain bus passengers with whom I regularly share my commute.

2) Easier border crossings for Bo and myself.

3) A chance meeting with someone I know on a sidewalk in Montreal.

4) Blackboard chalk with moisturizing lotion in it.

5) One day, (or dare I ask for a few days?) where my students are all well-behaved, all at once.

6) Unlimited hot water for marathon showers.

7) A signed contract for the sale of my house, or better yet, the proceeds in the bank.

8) A cure for my cousin's cancer.

9) Less ridiculousness in advertising and promotions.

10) A self-cleaning kitchen.

I'm realizing that many of the "items" on this list (at least #s 1,2,3,6,8 and 9) could become blog entries in and of themselves. I'd better get writing! My many faithful readers could give me input as to what you'd like to hear about...In fact I think I'll write about #9 right now. Read on!

Les escaliers: a photo essay

2007-11-18T09:53:00.000-05:00

As promised, staircases! I took these photos recently while walking in a neighborhood near mine. The last photo was taken on the street where I live. The bright turquoise staircase on the left is just across from my apartment and is one of the staircases you can just barely see in one of my Urban Arbres photos. You can also notice the bright green recycling bins on many of the balconies. As these photos show, some staircases are straight; some are curly... and when they're lined up all in a row, it's a graphic feast for the eyes. Bon appétit.

Leaf Peepers

2007-10-24T16:06:00.000-04:00

Last weekend the weather was outstanding for the end of October and Bo and I decided to go for a hike. Sandwiches packed, we made it out the door before 10 am.

We headed for the nearest mountain, Mont St. Hilaire, about 45 minutes away. As we approached the entrance to the park we realized we were not the only city dwellers with this idea. Imagining the crowded and noisy trails, we retreated. We pulled over a few minutes later and took the following photos:

We decided to keep heading away from the city in search of just the right park in which to have lunch and a long stroll. We made it all the way to Sorel where there is a ferry that takes cars and passengers across the St. Lawrence river. We had our picnic in the car and enjoyed the sun and breezes on the upper deck.

We never did find a park to stroll in and we finally found our way back to the city a good four-plus hours later. But it was a beautiful day nonetheless. The scenery was wonderful, as was the company. After supper we did go for a hike...in our neighborhood.

Miam-miam!

2007-10-21T18:01:00.000-04:00

Or, as we say in English...yum, yum!

I made a gustative discovery this week thanks to one of my students. When AJ is staying at his mom's, he comes to school with fresh-baked pastries and wholesome sandwiches and organic fruit. When he is staying at his dad's, things are less "gourmet." Recently, in addition to a sandwich, AJ had a bottle of diet iced tea and a bag of Ruffles. He was generous and shared his junk food with all of us...fortunately for his teacher because I discovered the glorious flavor of:

I've never seen this flavor before in the States. It is kind of like BBQ and salt and vinegar put together. (I notice a vinegar bottle, a red pepper, and a green onion on the packaging). Whatever the secret recipe is... they're darn good!

In my photo shoot for this blog entry I noticed that the flavor of these chips is not only glorious, but "simulated!" Oh boy! Betcha want to run out and get some now!

But seriously, they're delicious. If you're in a junk food mood the next time you're in Canada, stop by any neighborhood gas station and grab a bag!

Urban Arbres

2007-10-09T17:30:00.000-04:00

This is a photo of part of the acre of land I own in New York State. (It, and the house that sits on it, are for sale, anyone?)

I love all those trees. Regal white pines and many other varieties shelter an array of wildlife. I regularly saw deer, great blue herons, woodpeckers (including twice a pileated woodpecker), ground hogs, squirrels (mostly of the flying variety), finches, blue jays, cardinals, turkeys, turkey vultures, bats, and of course, mice and crows.

The trees also sheltered the human and feline residents of said acre (that would be Bo and Chico and me) by providing a curtain of foliage between us, the road, and the neighbors. Such privacy...I was spoiled by it and able to walk around in whatever I pleased! Chico was in his birthday suit all the time! I had no curtains on any of the windows.

When I moved to the city, I figured that was all over. Curtains on every window, I thought!

What a pleasant surprise that Bo and I were able to find an apartment that is almost equally sheltered by trees all around! I haven't seen nearly as much wildlife though; only some alley cats, kids and your average city-dweller (montrealeris appartementocratus). (Surpisingly no link was available for this species. Stay tuned to further blog postings. I may spot one and capture it with my digital lens.)

Here is a shot from our back balcony:
A white birch tree and a sort of willow that provide a curtain between us and all of our neighbors on the right side of the alley (including one neighbor's above-ground pool). As you can see from the left side of the alley, we do actually have the need for some curtains...). This picture was taken in July, but the leaves today are still just as green and full (not for long I'm sure!).

The photos that follow were all taken from our front balcony (yes, we have two balconies!):

The last one is a look at our bedroom window. The trees in the front are ash trees and have almost completely lost their leaves. Soon the tourists in the tower of the Olympic Stadium will be able to put a quarter in one of those alien looking binocular things and monitor our every move.

In the first photo taken from the front balcony, notice the staircases...they will be the subject of a future posting.

The weather has slowly turned towards crisp and the sound of my feet rustling in the ash leaves as I head out curtain shopping tells me that fall is finally here. Enjoy the season!

Technology breakthrough for Bijou

2007-10-08T17:10:00.000-04:00

OK, I have a digital camera. It is not perfect. I am not perfect. We're quite a pair.

First of all, I suffer from battery frustrations of all kinds.

Second of all, I lost a nice digital camera in February 2006 (right after my first trip to Quebec's winter carnival). My parents were nice enough to buy me a new one. That then left me with two cables with which to connect the camera to my computer to download the pictures. Well, both of my cables are in my storage unit in NY, so I have been unable to add any interesting personal pictures to my blog.

Breakthrough: I realized today that I can insert the memory disk from my camera into my printer which then imports the photos to my computer! Yay for me! Yay for the three or four faithful visitors to "la-la land" (as I like to call it)!

*This technology breakthrough was brought to you by HP, Mac, and the Staples USB cable that connected the two to make the following post possible!

The agony of "la route"

2007-09-29T10:55:00.001-04:00

Or... the thrill of commuting!

In the last four weeks I have been mostly: at work, preparing for work, recovering from work, or traveling to and from work.

When I moved here, I was excited by the idea of commuting via public transportation. My “practice runs” took about an hour each direction, give or take 10 minutes. That’s by far the longest commute I’d ever faced but I knew that I wouldn’t have the stress of driving in city traffic, which would “likely take me just as long anyway”. Plus I wouldn’t have to deal with parking. And the idealistic idea of doing some preparation on the subway was enticing.

Well on the first day of school it was about 85 degrees out and I didn’t want to meet my students for the first time sweaty from the un-air-conditioned trains and buses. So I decided to drive “just this once.” I left extra early to give myself plenty of time and arrived at school 25 minutes later! (I even had to wait around for twenty minutes until someone arrived to unlock the building!)

Since then, I have unfortunately become a part of the traffic. I have adjusted my departure time and it generally takes about 35 minutes to get to school. On the way home a bit longer. I have become quite familiar with my route and even some short cuts that make me feel like a local. But that familiarity does not ease the stress that comes along with the drive.

At every light, five or six or more cars, and the other species of bus and taxi, can be seen jockeying for position. There are many one-way streets, so at any given intersection there may be cars waiting to turn...sometimes right, sometimes left. The trick is to find your way into the lane where you won’t be held up by cars waiting to turn. And "everyone else's" destination is more important than mine, of course.

Turn signals, patience, and courtesy are rare. Quick braking, being cut off, and blaring horns are common. Yellow lights mean speed up (so you won’t have to wait for the next light). The traffic signals seem to come from a box of Lucky Charms. There are flashing or non-flashing circles, arrows, diamonds, X’s, but no clovers or hearts! Drivers can be seen eating, talking on cell phones, shaving with electric razors, playing air guitar, reading the newspaper, doing crossword puzzles, and of course smoking. Sometimes two or more of these activities are taking place simultaneously

The roads are rough, bumpy, (harsh winters are hard on the roads) and we are still in construction season, so you can go from three lanes to one to two with little more warning than the barricade that appears before you.

Oh...and the bicycles...These people are crazy, gutsy, indignant and cocky. They jump curbs and potholes and zigzag in and out of cars, parked or moving. Although I’m sure I've never seen a bicyclist shaving or playing air guitar, I’ve witnessed so many "other" activities. I’ve previously spoken about cycling attire, but never mentioned the mandatory fashion accessory of iPod earbuds.

And off I go, on the road again, see you at the next red light!

Recyclage

2007-08-28T10:19:00.000-04:00

Recycling is a pretty great thing. I need to see a segment on CBS Sunday Morning (man do I miss that!) that explains the whole process. All I really know is what follows:

1) I buy food and domestic products and when they’re used up, I rinse out the containers and put them in the big green bin.
2) Bo brings them out to the curb on Monday nights.
3) Starting at about 5:00 am (or maybe sooner, but I am just sleeping more heavily,) a series of people walk up and down the street picking through the recycling bins, presumably searching for consignment bottles.
4) At around 7:30 am the big trucks come slowly down the street, the sounds of their heavy-duty motors and brakes are joined by the clanking of breaking glass as the bins are emptied into the trucks. The bins are tossed back to the curb.
5) At around 9:00 am the truck comes back to do the other side of the street after having woven its way through the web of one-way avenues.
6) For the next hour or so, these sounds become more and more faint as the truck travels further and further.
7) At some point we retrieve our bins from the curb and put them back in their rightful places, where they wait ready for the next cereal box or juice bottle.
8) I’m missing from step 8 to approximately 100, I think. I could presume that the trucks go to a “facility” where the items are sorted and smashed and crunched and melted and heated etc.
101) As I shop I notice packaging made from recycled materials…and I buy them.
102) See #1…that’s why it’s called re-“cycle”

I’d be interested in filling in some of the gaps. I don’t need to know every single little detail. Like I said, a segment on a morning show where for example a cute little green Heineken bottle is followed from its birth through the consumption of its precious contents to the green bin to the truck, and then the rest! That would be interesting.

Maybe if I knew more about the process, I’d know the answers to some of my questions like…
--How small is too small when recycling a piece of aluminum foil, does it eventually become cost prohibitive? Same question for bottle caps, both metal and plastic.
--Which is better for the environment…paper or plastic bags at the grocery store? I should add that Montreal supermarkets are ahead of the game in selling affordable, functional, and dare I say fashionable reusable shopping bags for $1 each. My problem is that I can’t seem to remember to bring them with me to the grocery store, partially because I often use them for other purposes. We do reuse a lot of the plastic bags from the grocery store for garbage bags, but many tear just from the contents of the groceries so that they are no longer easily reusable.

Ahh, so many things to learn! It isn't easy trying to be green!

Freewheelin' in Montréal

2007-08-16T14:48:00.001-04:00

My mother in law recently gave me her bicycle, which she hadn’t used in years (Merci belle-maman!). The last time I rode a bike was in 1994. Bo has been excited for me to get a bicycle so I can join him on little journeys without the wear and tear on my joints of hiking and even walking around in the city. (Years and years of volleyball and other factors have made me somewhat suddenly “weak in the knees”).

The day after we got it Bo suggested a ride to a “nearby” shopping mall. “It’s only 45 minutes by bike.” 45 MINUTES! I told him he was crazy. I hadn’t even straddled a bike in 13 years and he thought I was just going to be able to hop on for a little jaunt of three-quarters of an hour through the city! I did take the bike to a local asphalt schoolyard and tooled around a bit to get my bearings. The seat needs some adjustments and perhaps replacement, but it turns out that riding a bike after 13 years is well, just like riding a bike!

I’m not overly enthusiastic about riding my bike on the city streets. I’m still getting used to walking the city streets and I see some crazy stuff out there where the cars and bicycles are sharing the road. And I don’t intend to ride my bike on the sidewalk unless I see an extreme need. Bo’s parents also gave us a bike rack for my car, so I’m much more inclined (once the seat situation is resolved), to take the bike to different parks where there are long flat trails shared by bicycles, non-motorized people (and dogs…). The Parc Maisonneuve is not too far from where we live and along the shores of the St. Lawrence River, there are many such parks to explore.

This brings me to the question of cycling attire. The bike Bo’s mom passed on to me is a “women’s bike,” meaning of course that it lacks the highest bar that crosses horizontally on a men’s frame. Seeing it made us wonder why we need two different styles of bike in this day and age and wouldn’t it be simpler to just make one kind of universal frame? Well of course, the missing bar was to accommodate women in skirts right?

Next question…why would a woman today ride a bike in a skirt? Well they do! Everywhere! Women in short, medium, long, flowing, tight and loose skirts are riding bikes all over the city of Montréal. I suppose the long flowing hippy granola bike-riding women are fine. But the short skirts and dresses I see make me scratch my head and go “hmmm?” Of course I never point them out to Bo because I don’t want him to start noticing!

Same goes for the low cut shirts. Now, I've always been sort of modest when it comes to my fashion choices, but when did bicycle-riding women become so provocative? I see cleavage galore on these women and sometimes on other more athletically dressed women who apparently never took the time to stand in front of a mirror and ask themselves “wait, when I lean forward on my bike, am I hanging out of this top?”

So when you see a blond ponytail sticking out of a shiny new red bicycle helmet on a sweatpants-and-turtleneck-wearing woman who is wobbling warily in the bike lane, that’ll be me. You can wave hello, but I may be too freaked-out nervous to notice you, sorry.

You are here.

2007-07-27T10:56:00.001-04:00

So, folks have been asking me to post some photos. I don't have enough blogging experience to do this well, and I don't carry around enough extra batteries for my camera to do this often. But I'll be working on fixing that.

This is a picture of downtown Montréal taken last summer from the top of the Mont Royal, the highest point in Montréal. I've been there in the winter too, but I'll save sharing those photos for a colder day.

The other day my beau, I'll call him "Bo," and I went to Vieux (old) Montréal as tourists. We went to the museum of archeology and history at Pointe à Callière and both of us learned a lot: me from reading every single little label of every artifact and Bo from talking at length to two different museum guides, leaving me with plenty of time to read all of the labels.

We saw ruins and artifacts dating from the 1300's (but mostly from the 1600's and 1800's) through this century. They had some cool "multimedia" displays without an excess of lights, bells and whistles, and one in particular with a "you are here" red dot that showed you what your surroundings would look like at certain points in history. It was moving to be standing in the spot where the city of Montréal was founded. I had a similar feeling to when I visited my first cathedral as a college student in Europe, the Strasbourg Cathedral. It was the feeling of being a part of the history of the future and of the weight of all the footsteps that had passed in that very place before mine.

It would be nice to feel that way more often, in my daily life, to think about the people who rented this apartment before me dating back to the 1930's, for example. Bo and I were walking on a nearby shopping street and we paused to notice the facade of a church that we can see from our apartment. We were talking about how the combining of parishes had changed the church's name over the years. Just then a woman, who told us she was 86, joined our conversation as she rested her cane against a nearby bench and sat down. She had been baptized in a church on the same site some years before the current building was built in 1931. She has lived in Rosemont, the neighborhood of Montréal where we live, her whole life. To me, after only two weeks of living here, I find my view of that church from our apartment to be something special...and it is.

8 Random Facts

2007-07-18T15:20:00.000-04:00

Shabbydoll, my dear friend and inspirational blog mentor from afar tagged me…I am therefore, according to the laws of blogosphere, obligated to tell you 8 random facts about myself. Hope you’re entertained! (Shabbydoll—your #6 blew my mind!)

1) I am a total snob about chocolate, beer, and bagels (among other things). Only the best for Bijou.

2) As you will see, I am somewhat less of a snob about movies…I’m proud to admit that I own Grease and Grease 2 on VHS. (Believe it or not, I own Kingpin on VHS and DVD—ahem, not so proud!)

3) Again with the movie theme, I can just about recite Grease, Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club by heart along with my favorite onscreen characters!

4) Moving violations: I was pulled over for speeding three times in the last twelve months and once for a blown out headlight, and although all the charges were reduced or cleared, I paid almost $400 in fines. I haven’t had a year like that since 1993. Just call me "Leadfoot"...

5) I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue. Great party trick, until you’ve seen it a thousand times.

6) I LOVE “Secret Santa” gift giving at work. My last job didn’t have it and that gave me the blues.

7) I have six holes pierced in my ears: four in the left and two in the right. I’m not sure why.

8) Similarly, I have a tattoo that only goes half-way around my left ankle. Did I think that being asymmetrical would make me cool or non-conformist or something? (No, just cock-eyed actually, but this could explain why I keep walking in circles…)

I’m tagging whitneyarlene and dougfine. Go get ‘em!

Cat Ladies

2007-07-09T15:14:00.000-04:00

So, I am now living in Canada!

My cat made it too. My cat, who I now often refer to as Houdini, was the central missing character in a typical moving day crisis. Chico, his real name, found an unfindable hiding spot somewhere in my house, where he stayed for about 12 hours! In the meantime, I had assumed he had gotten out because all of the doors were open for hours. The crisis reached its peak during a nasty thunderstorm where I was left crying and thinking that I must be the worst pet owner ever after letting this happen to my poor "defenseless, never-been-outside-before" cat.

To make things worse, my neighbor came over to warn me about a vicious grey fox he had seen in the area. He was wielding a baseball bat to defend himself en route. Thank goodness I still had my internet connection because I promptly googled grey foxes and found that neither humans, nor cats were likely prey.

Chico finally showed himself, dirty and stressed (wait--was that him or me?) at around 11 pm.

The rest of the moving experience went smoothly. My worldly goods are now in storage waiting for a visa to set them free...

Chico was again a concern when I crossed the border. Even though I had crossed the Canadian border many times before with a cat, I figured that this would ironically be the time that it was not OK. So armed with his papers from a recent trip to the vet I went ahead, bumper to bumper as usual.

Just my luck, "la douanière" was a purple eye-shadow wearing, cat-loving woman! She proceeded to tell me at length about her five cats and their roles in her and each other's lives and eventually said "OK, have a nice day..." That was basically it! Chico's reluctant presence definitely made the last leg of the journey a pleasure.

Unfortunately Chico has done little more than hide behind the washing machine since, but he'll come around. Like me, he's getting used to the new noises of city living.

Bienvenue!

2007-06-28T13:30:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my new blog.

I am moving to Montreal in a few days and I have decided to chronicle some of the happenings of my "new" life. These happenings may be funny (weird and ha-ha), interesting, cultural, linguistic and much, much more.

My new life also includes a new (and first) marriage (my husband is a native of the Quebec City region), a new job, and downsizing from a house I owned in NY state to a rental apartment.

My cat is moving with me too. (He doesn't speak French, but I do.)