Quand le vendredi saint tombe à pic
Du patient 0 et des boucs-émissaires
De la Résurrection: qui croire? Qui dit la vérité?
Quand la Semaine Sainte est obligatoire
De la politique ….et de la vraie vie
Être ému de compassion
Writing in English is like…
November, the 7th, Virginia, (who became a blue State yesterday) 2019

Blogging in English (in the US) feels like…being naked or unprotected… because everybody can understand and therefore can “see” me…I don’t have the special feeling that I do when I express myself in my own language — a feeling of having this secret place, this refuge, surrounded by a hedge called appropriately enough, the language barrier–which keeps people at bay and does not allow them to take a peak inside and see what I think or who I truly am…It is a space of complete freedom….no censorship… no barrier to cross… .no adaptation, no contortion of the mind to make sure I speak his or her language… not having to think twice about the reaction of the embedded English/US reader in my own text..
Blogging, of course is not the same as journaling… journaling is supposed to be for oneself, it used to be a very secretive practice, something that you wrote on a notebook that you hid under your pillow so nobody would find it ( although your mother always did) or if you were more sophisticated and wealthier… a notebook with a golden rim and a lock with all kind of warnings addressed to the potential reader…or intruder…
Although one knows that the desire for it to be secret and remain so, is not necessarily totally honest..there also can be along with the secret writing the secret desire to be discovered…A Japanese writer wrote an amazing novel about it, a real masterpiece that took my breath away… about a man and his wife who both kept journals from each other and it was only towards the end of the book that you discovered the perversity of the wife, (always the woman of course) who knew all along that her husband read her journal where she talked about her infidelities, and sexual perversions so that he would spy on her and ended up taking all kind of dangerous medicine to boost his libido and potency to match her desires….which eventually killed him…It was quite extraordinary and the writer was quite well known but of course I can’t remember his name nor the title of his book in spite of doing a search on the Internet….which proved to be disappointing… instead of looking in my library where the book has to be…..
Anyway, as the case may be, another difference in blogging in French or in English is the fact that I decided not only to change language but to change also the platform choosing one which was based in the US rather the one I used which was based in France….. and right away I felt the difference….I was bombarded by e.mails explaining how much better it would be if I upgraded by paying such and such an amount instead of choosing the free option… which was all I wanted to start with…
It reminded me of the difference between being at the restaurant in France and in the US….In France the waiter (more likely to be a man) comes only once or twice and hands out the menu without telling you what you should eat or not eat (after all the special of the day is written down) and leaves you alone until you call him for the bill….while in the US besides pushing this or that item on the menu the waitress (more likely to be a woman) comes every 5 minutes and interrupts your meal to ask you how is the food…and of course puts down the bill without you asking for it…
( Ok, I know the difference is …economics…Waiters and waitresses are not paid hardly anything, without tips they would starve, in the US. In France, the law requires that they are paid a decent hourly wage and receive social benefits…so they don’t to have to be obnoxious…not even nice…French people of course when they travel have the reputation of not being generous at tipping because they are not aware of how the system works….or if they do they think it is wrong…)
I do have to admit though that when it comes to marketing, the Americans are the kings…and if I want to be read by a large audience, English is the language to use…Such is the world we are living in today! But fortunately I belong to a rare and privileged cast of people, who do not have to write for money or fame… just for the small pleasure of having someone, once in a while tell me, “I like what you wrote…”
(And fortunately also … I don’t have to do waitressing to pay the bills at the end of the month)
Halloween ratée, la Toussaint escamotée
Jeudi 31 octobre, Halloween…
On nous annonce une tornade et des vents dangereux…alerte rouge…Le spectacle a déjà commencé: les arbres secoués par les rafales de vent avec les feuilles qui tombent et forment un parterre de toutes les couleurs, le ciel noir à l’horizon, on attend…
Je sais que ça peut être dangereux mais le spectacle de la nature en furie, me fascine.. et puis, ils en rajoutent toujours un peu trop dans leurs prévisions, en plus on est quand même entouré de montagnes et on n’est pas pays de tornade ici…Mais bon on verra…le problème c’est que c’est Halloween et que l’on a peur pour les enfants qui vont quémander des bonbons aux portes…s’ il y a des branches d’arbre qui risquent de vous tomber sur la tête…alors… les recommandations des autorités est de remettre à demain, le porte à porte…
On a quelques très hauts pins (10 mètres) qui penchent dangereusement et on sait qu’ils ne vont pas durer…on se demande quand ils tomberont…ils sont assez éloignés de la maison et ne devraient pas faire de dégâts, sauf barrer la route en contrebas mais ça ne devrait pas poser trop de problèmes selon nos calculs….on verra…
On fait partie de ces gens pas très sympas, en tout cas cette année qui ne se déguisent pas et n’invitent pas les enfants à venir frapper à la porte pour leur donner des “Halloween candy” oranges de préférence…(comme on est isolé à la campagne, il faudrait les inviter) . Quand on avait de la famille qui avaient des enfants en bas âge, on faisait l’effort de les inviter pour qu’ils nous montrent leur costume. Maintenant ils sont grands et ceux qui sont les plus proches de chez nous, habitent dans une maison qui a l’air hanté, alors ils se déguisent ce sont eux maintenant qui distribuent aux enfants bonbons et barres de chocolat….
L’orage arrive vraiment et la pluie frappe contre les carreaux mais ça se calme…fausse alerte
1er Novembre., la Toussaint?..
Finalement pas de dégâts ici mais le froid qui est arrivé, et un ciel magnifique…les enfants du voisinage sont malades et très contagieux paraît-il..
Pas de virée au cimetière…on est en pays protestant…les tombes des ancêtres de mon mari (je ne les ai jamais vues) resteront telles quelles à moins qu’ il y ait une ou deux personnes catholiques qui du côté maternel feront peut être un tour au cimetière s’ ils sont dans le coin…en tout cas, un jour comme les autres….
Pas tout à fait…
Avec la beauté de l’automne et les feuilles de toutes les couleurs qui demain ne seront plus….
Vive le sport!
What a relief looking at the headlines on the Washington Post, this morning! Nothing but the joy and the excitement of the sports fans dancing laughing and yes drinking because their underdog baseball team won!
How refreshing and yes uplifting to see people embracing each other after days and days of bickering on Capitol Hill of unsulting tweets, of angry politicians shouting at each other about fair or unfairness in a war which has lasted too long!
Although I still don’t understand anything about baseball… I still tried to read every article about how the Nationals team won and although I could not still figure out how it happened…one thing I could understand is the joy of people who ceased to see the stranger next to them as suspicious, and who for one fleeting moment gave us the feeling that we were all brothers and sisters…in the same happy family!
It reminded me, of when we (the French) won the world soccer cup and I stood in the street with hundreds of others in front of a big screen cheering, singing and kissing (we do more kissing than hugging as a general rule but in situations like this everything goes), forgetting our dissenssions and…prejudices…
I know those moments of universal harmony when one forgets about what divides us, race, religion, political parties and a lot more…are shortlived , the more reason to enjoy them. They show us that it is possible to live together in peace…it gives us hope for the future!
Vive le sport!