F.i.in.e Moods

The greater intricacies

Are much to ponder.

So many parts with

So many questions.

And with this uncertainty

We'll still attempt to fill in 

The gaps where no

Words were assigned.

It's like the unknown is

Much too loud to bear.

So we'll naturally piece

It together to find sense.

However, speculations

Are hardly like the truth.

Yet, we're comforted

By them, it would seem.

- sponsorship & permanent residency application process... 

19 April 2019 to 25 February 2021... 

That's how long the process went on.

It really felt like it would never end.

But we got word today:  our application

Was successful!  Ma douce moitié is now

A legal Canadian resident, at long last.  

My cheeks are hurting!

The little boy's blond hair so light nearly glowed in the sun,

His eyes were a deep blue, and he was no older than four.

He was standing in front of his mother, arms crossed on

Himself, his little lips in a pout, all while protesting his

Innocence to her.  She had shortly admonished him,

In the most irritated of tones, by saying: "Oh!  Behave!".

And the little boy's resolute response:  "I am being have!"

And the look on his face, I'll never forget:  injustice, incredulity.

The look on his mother's face:  I-better-not-burst-out-laughing.

- picture taken 5th February... hardly any snow :/ 

Some might say that I'd be happy

To skip the mountainous snowbanks,

Or the overflow of snow everywhere,

Or the long cold snaps of January and

February where -25 C isn't unusual,

Or the numerous blustering snowstorms

That can accumulate an easy 30 cm each time,

Or the mega snow-shovelling to clear off

Our semi-basement apartment's windows,

Or the workout to walk the snowy sidewalks,

Or the numbing, sometimes painful, effect

Of the cold on the face, fingers, legs, toes.

Yes, you'd think I'd be happy to skip all that.

But when it suddenly disappears on you,

And the whole paysage is unrecognizable

Because there's hardly any snow,

There's hardly been snowfalls or storms,

Let alone many days at -20 C to -30 C

(It's 6th of February, and it's -4 C!  WTH?),

It all feels so strange in a bothersome way

That can't go unnoticed.  My whole life,

Winter has always been plentiful, let's say,

And to see it so mild and démunis, it takes

Some serious getting used to, I must confess.

- in French, "de" can mean of or from... my son misunderstood "de luxe" to mean from someone called Luxe...  

Nous étions au magasin Toys R Us -

Mon copain, mon fils aîné (qui était âgé de

quatre ans à l'époque), notre fils cadet

(tout petit à treize mois), et moi - pour aller

chercher la paie qui n'avait pas été déposée.

We were at the Toys R Us store -

My boyfriend, my eldest son (who was 4

at the time), our youngest son

(littlest at thirteen months), and me - to go

get the undeposited pay cheque.

Nous nous retrouvions dans la salle

des employés en petite famille, debout

dans la pièce pendant que mon copain

s'occupait de trouver son gérant.  Entre-

Temps, une employée est entrée,

We were in the employee

room as a little family, standing

in the space while my boyfriend

was busy finding his supervisor.  In

the meantime, an employee came in,

et a remarqué mon fils aîné (sa petite

bette était vraiment trop cute - 

le petit curieux si souriant), alors

commença à l'aborder en riant.  Elle

s'agenouilla devant lui, en tendant sa main :

and noticed my eldest son (his little

face was really too cute -

the curious little one always smiling), so

she started talking to him as she was laughing.  She

knelt in front of him, her hand out :

« Veux-tu un bonbon de luxe ? », sa question.

Mon fils, un peu hésitant, prit le bonbon,

tout en demandant d'un air d'innocence que

les enfants ont : « C'est qui, Luxe ? »

Trop précieux.  J'en souris à ce jour.

"Would you like a deluxe candy?", her question.

My son, a little hesitant, took the candy,

all while asking with that innocent look that

children have :  "Who is, Luxe?"

Too precious.  I smile about it to this day.

It may feel like committing a crime

To write out your lines with rhymes

Especially if you're not good at it

You might annoy the true poets!

For my part, I know it's not my gift

To find them, make'em gel and riff

But still, once in a while, I find it fun

Even though no result will ever stun!

So right now, just a little rhyming ditty

Passing the time, forget trying to be witty

Granted this isn't about much of anything

It's still better than my current imaginings!

- with rough translation... 

Je dois t'avouer que je trouve

extrêmement tannant

de vivre dans une société

qui s'acharne à rester unilingue.  

I must admit to you that I find it
extremely annoying
to be living in a society
which strives to remain unilingual.

L'inculcation de la peur de

l'anglais camouflée en tant que

fierté pour sa langue et sa culture... 

À mon avis, le bon sens y manque.

The inculcation of the fear of
English camouflaged as
pride for our language and our culture...
In my view, it lacks good sense.

Comme nous sommes

(apparemment)

un pays bilingue, c'est une

obstination mal placée.

Considering we are
(apparently)
a bilingual country, it's a
misplaced obstinacy.

Notre français ne disparaîtra pas. 

Mais qui a pensé à un tel mensonge ?

Implanter toutes sortes de lois

ne changera pas la réalité flagrante

Our French will not disappear.
Whoever thought of such a lie?
Implementing all kinds of laws
will not change the blatant reality

que notre peuple restera limité,

intentionnellement, pour des raisons

datant de plus de 400 ans ! 

Il serait le temps d'en revenir...

that our population will remain limited,
intentionally, for reasons
dating back over 400 years!
It would be time to get over it...

- food banks... 

It may be a popular view

That the poor can't "complain"

'Cause, after all, this food is

Given at no financial cost to them.

You know, the adage that

Beggars can't be choosers?

It's agreeable to a certain extent.

However, let's be real about this.

Helping people isn't achieved

When a "it's better than nothing"

Approach is employed to do it.

Here's what I mean by that :

When you commonly find cans

Beyond expired, by two to three years,

It gives a strong impression donors

Use charity to do a spring clean

Of their food cupboards.

When the bank's prepared packet 

Has no conceivable way to let

The recipient make meals

Because all of the items have

No matchable possibilities.

Bread with nothing to put on it.

Pasta with no sauce, or vice versa.

Tired veggies and fruits days away

From expiry, if not already expired.

No basic staples of any kind,

But there are a lot of cakes,

Chips, pop, candies, chocolates...

"Comfort foods" aren't what's

Needed.  Being able to make

A meal is what matters most.

Not insinuating there's no heart

In most intentions of help, but it

Does feel like not a lot of thought

Is really put on the situation

They're hoping to help.

On the receiving end, in an

Already difficult situation, its

Effects can be soaringly sore.

Yet, as I feel exposed before you,

I instantly freeze on the spot

And return to staying alone

In the confines of quietness

With no eyes to see me

While I try to put the stick away.

Are we having fun yet?