stuff my face all day..which thank the powers that be is a sure sign this mystery illness..some sort of combination flu/cold/allergy, has offically vamoosed (I hope) outta my greatful yet burned out system. And none too soon either as I’ve groan (yes typo intended) way weary of listening to my own moaning. God awful shit I tell ya.
Anyway I ate like I hadn’t eaten in over a week..which in reality was the case..literally inhaling my food. I had this mad craving for scrambled eggs..white toast and butter..ice-cold milk and chicken drenched in President Choices ‘Memories of Thailand’ fiery chili pepper sauce.
Damn it was just so, so ,sooo good.
I have heard many stories of hunger from my mother who made it through WW II..yet until this past week I had no real appreciation (if that’s what to call it) or physical concept of what that meant exactly. Today I did..for the first time I knew what it felt like to crave nutrients so much..chewing my food was of no concern..nor taste..just getting it in and getting it to stay down was satisfaction enough.
Right, I said I’d quit with the illness talk right. Oakie dokie then.
After reveling in the joy that is sustenance once again, I read & caught up on a few fav blogs. Of particular humor to me on this day was when my neice, who’s visiting from the states, asked why the people here mixed French & English in their sentences so much, and do they speak like that in France too.
She made me laugh as she tried her best to mimic what she’d heard. I live in a French area, Montreal…okay okay so it’s on this side of the world and not the ‘real’ thing according to France.
I guess I never realised how it might sound to an outsider.
A little history then.
We have what’s now known as Franglish/Franglais here in Quebec & the rest of English speaking Canada. It’s of course a combination of English & Erench that serves many purposes and satisfies to some extent anyway..the need of both cultures to have their language imposed..in whatever way possible..on the other.
So let’s say for example, one could hear while walking down any given street in Montreal expressions like, ‘la parti,’ ‘la washing machine,’ ‘le weekend,’ or ‘l’Big Mac’ peppering French sentences; and ‘the dépanneur,’ (or “dep” aka convenience store), bibliotech (library), and so on in English ones. “I have to stop at the bibliotech before picking you up at the dépanneur..est ce bien?” Likewise, the french can be heard saying “Après la party je dois utiliser la washing machine.”
Confusing to many but we can’t seem to live without it. And according to this video, that may very well be a good thing.
For over 40 years now a certain political party in the lovely province of Quebec has been gunning for ‘distinct society’ status and seperation from the rest of Canada. Why, to protect the French language and culture from being assimilated (very Treky we are here), by the big bad wolf (country) that surrounds them. Excuse me..was never, never going to happen anyway. Unbeknownst to many, we even have our own ‘Language Police,’ and very busy they are too.
Somehow, all this political hullaballo managed to create the very monster they were/are trying to avoid and outright oust; the infusion of English into French. How so, by pissing people off enough to not want to speak their, or our language properly.
I refer to the diehard separitists above, not your normal everyday forward thinking, good humored French person.
Just another ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ histroical anecdote among many.