Published at 1:13 am. Updated at 11:00 a.m.
beginning of the year. More or less quiet, reading and catching up on autumn books. We love winter and the time when things slow down. Return to yourself. Two or three mixed up stories this week.
Through the echoes of a manic-depressive year, I started a book: Cariacou by Olivier Lussier. I don't know the guy. It's about deer hunting. A bit in the form of Pierre Perrault (and his shining beast), who mixes everyday stories, memories and poetry. It is very “masculine” (advice to my friends who only read female authors, don't go there, you might like it. The book was given to me twice by women…). And this represents a change from the lack of intelligence in the Greek tragedy of the Stag of Longueuil.
In another life, even a bit of a hunt, there is always an unemployed pudding somewhere during the week. And I dream about it when I smell it in the oven or see it on the counter. Sometimes I run ten kilometers in wind and rain and that makes me happy: the thought that everything gets better with dessert. Chômeur pudding, unlike a thousand other everyday things, delivers what it promises.
There's also the pecan pie, which hits the spot. Until that point, when at a reading performance evening I read a text in which my character said: “I will marry and start a new life with the first person who offers me a pecan pie.” » In the end we have tired of getting it and eating it. People are screwed. But it's okay, we've learned to deal with it. I'm smiling here.
Still, it's a new year and that sounds a bit like – theoretically – the promise that everything will get better. It's a theory, we agree. What do we really want? To avoid being disappointed? Success in your studies. An endless love. Health.
Happy New Year, big nose, equally big teeth. But no, it's probably banned because of a minority that doesn't dare to smile, because they're insecure, or because of some diversity, or because of an association in defense of unusual noses, or because they come from a patriarchal-colonial past ? We believe that elsewhere we are changing for the better in our demands and the changes we hope to see (environmental, human rights, etc.). Unfortunately, believing in it is not enough.
A few weeks ago I was in Fermont. Later, when I visited an iron mine, I was impressed by the exploitation of the resource and the (usually) thousands of men working there, and asked a person in management if retaining workers was a challenge. No, the salaries are incredible and, above all, we understood three basic things, they explained to me: the workers' rooms are warm, private and personal (the schedule is 14 days on site and 14 days at home anywhere in Quebec, Fly -In Fly Out). Then the quality of the food is first class (we understand that and I hope there is pudding chômeur every now and then). Finally, the third factor is the bandwidth for the internet connection (because 1000 guys are on Pornhub at the same time). That's the reality.
We may wish and dream of billions of better versions of ourselves, alone and together, but in the end there is a huge gap between ideals and who we are. As much as I dream of a better world (especially when I come home soaked and drenched in the cold), the proof is in the pudding, as the saying goes.
Happy New Year and heaven at the end of your days. I return to reading and winter.