Au Cochonnet Marin

This year, I had a very special Christmas. Unlike the previous years, it was not spent drinking mulled wine with family and friends. Instead, this special occasion morphed into a very special working day.

Our bathroom faucet had been leaking for quite a while, and its replacement, courtesy of Amazon, arrived the day before Christmas. So, having nothing better to do, I decided to tackle the job myself. I am not a plumber but am an educated guy, so replacing a faucet should be a piece of cake, right?

Well, not exactly. Replacing a faucet requires experience and a lot of flexibility, a quality that I am now sorely lacking. Your stretchability, unless you are Jane Fonda, decreases with age, and I am at the stage of my life when putting on socks is already a bit strenuous.

So, a great part of my special Christmas day was spent, crawling and contorting in the tiny closet located under the bathroom sink.  I first tried to remove the faucet’s fastening nuts and this should not have been particularly difficult. But this damn faucet has been squatting in my house for years, and it obviously liked its surroundings. Removing those fastening nuts was a fight roughly equivalent to the bellicose attitude adopted lately by the tenant of the White House.

Every item in the faucet’s draining system was ancient and unwilling to yield. I was fortunately assisted by my wife and we took turns crawling and groaning under the sink. She is a yoga practitioner and found it much easier than me to squirm and writhe in the darkness.

By the way, I replaced the old non-descript faucet with a Moen faucet, a name I trust. The nice thing about this company is that if you go to Moen support on the Internet, it has very comprehensive videos detailing all kinds of installations.

The process was difficult because I have very little plumbing experience and it was my first attempt ever at replacing a faucet. What I learned was that if you want to practice that trade, you cannot be corpulent and that it would behoove you to practice yoga on a regular basis. To be successful, you need to easily flex every part of your body. A little bit of meditation would also help.

But to enjoy your work, you need to have a special calling for it and I don’t think that I have this. I would rather sit in front of my computer, sip a cup of whatever and save my strength for something more worthwhile… like fustigating the mindless refuseniks spurning the wearing of a protective mask during this dire situation.

But this very special Christmas had a positive side. All my going on all fours, crawling, wiggling, slithering, etc. significantly reduced my glucose level. This is a job that my doctor would approve of… but it is a little late in my career development to change course.

For the time being, I will stick to words… I am still convinced that the pen is mightier than an adjustable wrench.

Heureuse nouvelle année, et particulièrement bonne santé a tous !
Happy New Year, and particularly good health to all!

Alain

The New Year is fast approaching and with it the Epiphany, which commemorates my birthday. Well, not exactly…

To be accurate, the Epiphany (January 6) celebrates the Three Wise Men’s (Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar) visit to Bethlehem to pay homage and offer gifts to a newly born infant named Jesus. This event is a big deal among believers… and non-believers alike.

But my birthday is still January 6 and it is worth commemorating… I think… I am not so sure anymore. It’s weird being the same age as old people. Pre-pandemic days, I used to have a few friends over to share the traditional Galette des Rois.

To be accurate, they shared it with me. We are lucky to have in our midst a few good “artisans” and two of them Jacques Gautier (born January 4) and Jean-Claude Bunand (January 6) happened to be “Boulanger-pâtissiers”. Each year they graciously provided some Galette des Rois to be shared with all my guests.

Each visitor got a share of the galette (save one for the poor) and the person who found the bean was King (or Queen) for a day.

“The bean is one of the symbols of the winter solstice. It is the first vegetable that grows in spring. Above all, this vegetable, like the egg, contains an embryo. As it ‘ages’ it gives life. The bean is very important, especially among the Greeks – they contained the souls of the dead according to the Pythagoreans – and the Romans. The latter threw beans in the back on May 9, 11, and 13 to chase away the shadows of the dead. “

“Under Louis XIII, the ladies of the court use to draw lots. The winner became the queen for a day and could request a vow to the king. This was quickly abolished by his successor Louis XIV. »

Under the French Revolution though, the cake was not called Galette des Rois but Galette de la Liberté; there was no bean, and no king (god forbids) was appointed, even for a day.

But it seems that kings are now back in favor and so is la Galette which by the way never lost its popularity. In 2021 alas, this celebration won’t be possible. It would be too irresponsible.

It is naturally very tempting to get together with friends and have fun, but unlike some reckless philistines, I refuse to even consider it. With the pandemic wreaking havoc all over the world, it would be such a disservice to humanity, that it is unthinkable.

But I might consider a covid-eo reunion. I will keep you apprised of the situation.

Alain

PS: Can a treacherous former “head of state” be burned at the stake? Just wondering…

Dear Santa, I realize that I am a little late writing to you, but during this awful pandemic I have been extremely busy counting sheep and I know that will understand.

This year though, I don’t want anything from you except maybe a tiny little favor. I know that you are well connected, and I would be extremely grateful to you if you could provide a clean bill of health for all my friends and relatives. It is not a very large group, just a few hundred people… All of them are respectable citizens… some are admittedly drunks and fibbers, but they all have their hearts in the right place, and this is what counts.

As long as I am talking to you Santa, and if you are not too busy (I understand that Amazon is lending a hand) please send some ninja-elves to Washington and have them discreetly abduct our ex-supremo. Since being soundly defeated at the polls, he has become totally delusional, and a long vacation to the North Pole would do him (and the nation) a lot of good. I know that you are aware of this situation since the entire world is already sniggering about it.

You probably also know that the pandemic is presently wreaking havoc in the entire world, and I would like you to be careful when visiting all the homes on your route. Please wear a mask, some gloves, and do not touch milk and cookies anywhere because you don’t know their provenance. Keep in mind that the Cossacks have had their hands on everything lately…

I have also asked some friends to drop a few lines to you,  so here it is:

I want to instantly be able to shoot the boule perfectly. Also, want a Silver Hermès pétanque set. Lastly, I want Covid to avoid any human that has a pétanque ball. Ann K.

Dear Santa,
As you know, it’s been a lousy year.  We have been looking forward to a visit from you to make things right again. But DO NOT COME HERE THIS YEAR!  STAY AWAY!  You could get our virus and never come back again. We can hang on until next Christmas, trust me! All I want for Christmas is for you to survive in 2021! Margo

By the way, a few days ago I played pétanque with some friends and we had a grand time. One of our new members (David Freeman) wrote an account of this game and I present it to you for your appreciation.

“In the gritty world of pétanque, where a tiny pebble can cause heartbreak, two teams desperately fought to prevail, and with the score tied at 12-12, up stepped David to win it for his team. Without the benefit of cheating, he made a nice shot, near the cochonnet, for the lead. The rival team sent up Ann, their last hope. With ice-water running through her veins (my guess, or maybe herbal iced tea?), she stepped into the circle of truth and delivered what can best be described as “a minor miracle,” her boule cutting through the atmosphere in a trajectory as precise as her brain programmed it, delivered by fine-tuned muscle-fibers. When gravitational forces settled her boule, and the dust cleared, it rested in hallowed terrain, nearest the assigned target. Ann’s endorphins of triumph kicked in, and somewhere, Marco Foyot was smiling. David, a poor sport, could only think of what might have been, and was heard to utter the classic rejoinder, “Oh, shit!”.

Isn’t lyrical… or maybe ganja induced? I will let you judge and reward that gentleman as you see fit.

Take care Santa, and don’t overdo it with firewater on New Year’s Eve.
My best to Fido and Mrs. Claus!

Alain