Below is a two page entry in a chapbook, Lantana Leaves, published in 1990, Austin, Full Court Press. I probably wrote it during the 18 years I lived on the Mexican border. Isla de Mujeres should really just be Isla Mujeres, Women Island, not Island of Women. I scanned this instead of retyping it, so this is as big as it gets. It had to be scanned as a JPEG to be uploaded here. Actually, it brings back a very early memory of Quebec City, from the early 1970s.
Learning in Québec
- Sylvia Ann Manning
- I'm someone who began learning French when I was 53. I took a BA in French at 60 but wasn't happy with my level of comprehension (though I read very well). So, having really become comfortable with Spanish only by living on the Mexican border, I'm spending more time in Québec and near the border of Quebec, in Vermont, to see if I can do that here with French. I want to encourage others to do the same.
Monday, 13 May 2019
Tuesday, 7 May 2019
Tuesday, 16 April 2019
|Where Eleanor Roosevelt and her dearest friend,|
Lorena Hickok, let themselves be pampered. [photo by Sylvia Manning]
We took a break from the goats and quilts and Eleanor drove us to Quebec, to Château Frontenac, telling me, as we got to the outskirts, Close your eyes. I think when I am an old lady, when people have to shout to get my attention, you could murmur, Château Frontenac, and I will smile like a cat paw-deep in cream. Eleanor did for us what she never liked doing for herself and she did it on a grand scale, with gilt edges. We sat, I should say, we cavorted, in the French Canadian lap of luxury. We got massages together with two strong ladies coming into our suite with two massage tables, picnic baskets of warm towels, and rose and orange oils. I pretended that I'd somehow wandered in from the hideaway bed in the living room. They set up the tables and indicated we should strip and wrap ourselves in sheets. We did and we tottered over to the tables, to be rubbed and patted by these two frowning women who couldn't understand our language. Our faces were only two feet apart, our bodies glistening with rose-scented oil.
I said, "This is too much."
"I know," Eleanor said. "We have manicures after lunch."
from White Houses, by Amy Bloom. NY: Random House, c2018.
Friday, 5 April 2019
....... à la mangeoire, cardinal, chardonneret, sittelle, mésange, se gavent......
.......l’écureuil désinvolte saccage les mangeoires.......un couple de canards s’empiffrent des graines tombées au sol......
......une logique de la chaîne alimentaire.....
....nous....pauvres humains.....sommes tellement “à côté d’la plaque”......
.....le monde en déroute....tant de pays...... désespèrent........
at the birdfeeder, cardinal, goldfinch, nuthatch, tit, stuff themselves ...... ....... the squirrel casually ransacks the feeders ....... a couple of ducks fill up on the fallen seeds ...... ...... a logic of the food chain ..... .... we .... poor humans ..... are so "next to the plate" ...... ..... the world routed .... so many countries ...... despair ........ ....... how's your garden coming along?
Wednesday, 27 March 2019
Wednesday, 20 March 2019
J'aime beaucoup le poème par René Char, Redonnez-leur.
Et de plus, ici vous pouvez entendre le gran poet en train de lire le poème: