Learning in Québec

My photo
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.

Wednesday, 9 August 2017

Visite avec Juliette 31 juillet jusque 4 aout

Sylvia et Iolande avant la musique en Ste. Foy
Juliette and I had a lovely visit to Quebec City. 
This is a selfie Julie took of us on the bus; #11, I think.

Sylvia and Monique, chez Monique.

Wednesday, 26 July 2017

Photograph of photograph of Billie Holiday, Sherbrooke Museum of Fine Arts.  

Friend Stephen picked me up at Sherbrooke bus station (so wonderful) on my most recent return from Quebec City.  Bus leaves Ste. Foy station in Quebec City at 9:10 a.m. and arrives in Sherbrooke at 12:20 p.m. unless -- as on this trip -- it takes a special route to leave someone at University of Sherbrooke.  Didn't arrive until 12:45, but that still left plenty of time to see the Abenaki Gorge and the Museum of Fine Arts which is just at the falls.  It's so worth your visit.  Sherbrooke is the third largest city in Quebec, I think.  I like it.  Only 25 miles north of Vermont.  Best way up from the border is on 143, the back way.  So easy to get lost from the autoroute.

stairway down from Museum parking lot leads to gorge

La Robe de Nations

 This is in permanent exhibit at the Museum of Civilization in Quebec City, au Musée de la Civilisation.  It's on the second floor, rather hidden, making it even more a surprise when you come up on it.

It's just pieces of fabric from clothes of women all over the world, patiently hand-stitched to hang together.

I'll look for a better description when I'm there again at the museum.  I renewed my membership, mais certainement.

Thursday, 6 July 2017

Les canards encore, mais une nouvelle famille et une nouveau projet.

I know they're hard to see.  They're very little.  I think the other adult wonders
where they came from.  But just like her and her flock (gaggle?)
they came up from la rivière Cap Rouge.
This photo was taken by friend Io's neighbor, Louise Girard.

My new project begun here in Quebec City with this visit is using the French-adapted keyboards at the libraries to type in the French version of poems I translated and (with Monique Laforce's help)  edited last summer, poetry by René Leynaud, friend of Albert Camus.  I offer a translation of a poem, The Insentient Pond Water.

L'eau insensible de l'étang
                    The Insentient Pond Water
                                                                                                 by René Leynaud

From time to time
The insentient pond water
Takes the heads off little ducks.

None plunge in at the same time.

The peaches are becoming ripe
Beneath a sky so wan, a flag
Rises just half-way up its pole.

I’m tired of my tipsinesses.

Ah!  How I love my garden
Where a fish grows without a sailor
And a thousand golden toads
Glitter in the family trees.

And the ducks on video from last year here in Cap Rouge:


Tuesday, 4 July 2017

En fin dans la ville encore!

Pour honorer Juillet 4 nous pouvions voir Ste. Jeanne et aussi ce video de Peter Gould, libre pour tous, avec le poème de Emma Lazarus.  C'est très bon,


Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Une Québécoise est venu au Texas en l'hiver

Io, Gruene dance hall
Sylvia and Io

Io in Seguin, Texas, Court St. Coffee House

Monday, 5 June 2017

Photo vieille, poème nouveau

Une photo vieille, Venice-au-Quebec, Lake Memphremagog

et aussi un poème publié recemmant en Waterways

Tant Pis

written with (rather) fine black marker
your only margin note on page roman 6,
vi to sound like swiftness or life
in French,
vit or vie
to rhyme with pis or English pee
or vi as in English vinegar
for that matter if it matters in this
piss and vinegar state we share
and it must because we share, too,
thanks to you,
The First Man by Camus,
and this in English
for your one black note on white,
marginal, before you realized
you were in the copy you meant for me,
tant pis, and moved on to your own

for rather fine notes in black
on marginal white, free to write now
on your own.

[written for Mary Teague]