Coucoumellisms

Back in June, I entered a contest that Chom FM was having, in which I wrote a poem, in honour of our dad, (well, my childrens' dad to be specific, my husband). I turned the thing into a Father's Day card, and always intended to post it up here, but never got around to it. So here it is: (And I have to admit, I am pretty proud of it.)

So, apparently January 22 was officially "Pro-choice Day" so I just want to say that I am totally in favour of every single un-born baby having the right to choose to live. This is disgusting, not for the weak of heart, but this is what abortion is doing, and more people should see it. There is a very good alternative to abortion. YES, you can actually choose to NOT have a child without aborting it. It's called ADOPTION. Has anyone heard of it?

It's a work in progress,... I keep editing it, but here is the latest draft, which isn't too bad: (Still untitled) Morning sunlight reflects off windows, freshly washed Spotless tables in a row, stand waiting. Voices; laughing, talking, people sharing Happiness is: Hands wrapped around a hot mug Feet slowly thawing, Watching my children cheerfully wave At people in cars lined up outside, To buy a hot coffee on a cold winter day.

We went to Tim Hortons this afternoon, and Gabriel was complaining because I got coffee, and he didn't get anything to drink. I got him a muffin only. Me: I'm getting coffee because I have a headache. Dominic: Me too, I have a headache because of the sun. It's making me hot and I get a headache. Maryssa: Me too, I have a headache, but I'm not explaining .

Nicolas is 13 and a half months now and has started copying our every move... (well almost) Marc was calling Toby (the dog), this evening to come inside, and whistling for him, so Nicolas started yelling "Ahhh!" and then started blowing out, trying to whistle too. When the kids go to brush their teeth, Nicolas spits into the sink too. He walks around, coughs and puts his hand in font of his mouth while coughing. The other day, Gabriel was reciting the alphabet, and Nicolas started to chant too, his own personal alphabet. He says "uh-oh" and "mama". He also said "um-um" twice when he wanted to nurse and I was being obtuse, and not getting it, although that was awhile back. He comes running to me (since Dec. 26) and says "Mama!" I love that. I think he is the first for whom that is the first real word.

Spanish psychologist tries to unravel mystery of Cambodia's 'jungle woman' Wed Jan 24, 2:14 AM By Ker Munthit PHNOM PENH, Cambodia (AP) - Cambodia's "jungle woman" smiled for the first time, showing a childlike appreciation for a puppet show put on by a visiting Spanish psychologist, the man who claims to be her long-lost father said Wednesday. Hector Rifa, a doctor of psychology from Spain's University of Oviedo, was spending several days with the woman in the hope of unravelling some of the mystery surrounding her since she emerged from the forest Jan. 13, naked and unable to speak, after what may have been nearly two decades in the wild. Rifa is the first foreign medical professional to meet the woman who is believed to be 27-year-old Rochom P'ngieng, who disappeared in the jungles of Cambodia's northeastern Rattanakiri province while herding water buffaloes when she was 8. Read more ... A professor of psychology of religion in adolescents used

Aid To Women, a crisis pregnancy centre in Toronto, has been assisting a mom who is expecting twins next month. Recently she found out, that one of the babies (a boy) has Spina Bifida. This is a birth defect in which the spinal cord has not developed properly. According to the doctors this little unborn child's condition is severe. He is probably paralyzed from the waist down and will need a shunt because of hydrocephali (water on the brain). The Mother cannot face this challenge and is booked to have a selective abortion of the spina bifida child in a few weeks. Aid to Women feels that if they can offer this mom a promise that a family will adopt the handicapped child she will carry him to term. Aid to Women is appealing to the pro-life community to offer a home and heart for the child. For more information from a mom who did adopt a Spina Bifida baby, who is now a grown man, please call Joanne at 905-309-3340. To enquire about possibly adopting the child call Aid To Women at 416-

My blog is worth $8,468.10 . How much is your blog worth? J'ai un petit bout à faire avant de faire valoir le mien autant que celui de Deo Gratias . Ha ha. Mais bon, j'en aurai peut-être assez pour aller faire un petit tour en France, visiter des châteaux, des catédrales, le pays de mes ancêtres (Normandie) et peut-être même passer par un séminaire, jouer au football (soccer) avec un certain séminariste. Ah, mais je n'aurais plus le plaisir d'écrire, alors à demain les rêves... Puis de toute façon, il faut bien que j'aille visiter le pays de mes ancêtres de l'autre côté de la famille, (l'Écosse) aussi.

I have just read and signed the online petition: "Non à l'exploitation du corps des femmes / No to the exploitation of women's bodies" hosted on the web by PetitionOnline.com, the free online petition service, at: http://www.PetitionOnline.com/6100fini/ I personally agree with what this petition says, and I think you might agree, too. If you can spare a moment, please take a look, and consider signing yourself. This petition is an action to get rid of the degrading habit of using women's bodies as sexual objects when selling things. Perhaps we will finally be able to walk around certain areas of Montreal without having to leave the kids at home, or cover their eyes? Or drive down a highway without being assaulted by annoying images.

Written by Rose Anne Chabot: (My sister) Standing beneath the doorframe On the threshold of the infinite space In which you kneel, Hands splayed on the wooden floor Womb heavy and distended. A space more powerful Than the bones and skin We wander around in, An in-between space that belongs To the dying And the child that slips from you Umbilical cord for an instant The blue of cornflowers Or the sky drowning in the sea Off some Greek Island. And I think of all the things That go unsaid, cannot be said Yet fill the spaces we leave open The pauses we wrap ourselves in As we sip burning coffee From white styrofoam cups And distribute Timbits* Among four pairs of tiny hands, or lean against a counter Cramped with envelopes and stickers, Barbie doll limbs, empty wine bottles And a discarded apple core Slowly rusting in the open air. These pauses which Like the child bursting from you Emerge from some in-between space Its silence filled with things That come before language Before the soun

I played volleyball with Marc today, (oops, um I guess that would be yesterday by now) and the weird thing is, after about the first hour, or the first 2 or 3 games, I started looking at the clock all the time, waiting for it to end. I actually got bored playing. I'd had enough and would have been ready to leave, but of course, I couldn't. I'm not sure why I got bored, because I love volleyball (at least I think I do). Maybe it was because of the lack of adrenaline and competitiveness that you normally get when you play in a league? I prefer to play soccer. I feel like I'm actually getting a work-out when I do. Plus the league I'm in might be recreational, but the teams are competitif, in the sense that we all have this very strong drive to win. Of course, it didn't help that I was constantly distracted, trying to make sure that someone (mainly Jean-Alexandre) was actually watching Nicolas and not letting him get too close to the game. The last time I pla

While I am at it, I should also probably wish the world at large a very happy new year. Bonne et sainte année! Feliz año nuevo!

... to a post that I was going to write, but of course, I can't remember diddly of it anymore. I really need to take a notebook with me everywhere and jot things down, when I have spare time and am thinking... (Yes, I DO think from time to time). See, now this is why few people actually stop to read what I have to say, because most of the BEST stuff never actually makes it here... ha ha By the way, how is it that some people have 30 people commenting on their blogs no matter what they say (it almost becomes a competition among the readers) and I have trouble having one or two to comment... (AND I AM VERY THANKFUL TO YOU FOR COMMENTING! VOUS SAVEZ QUI VOUS ÊTES) Not that any of this matters because mostly, this is for me anyway. And by the way, this is SO not even close to what I was actually going to post about. If it comes back to me, I will try to write myself a memo somewhere...

... we took advantage of that perfect winter afternoon when we did, because the next day, everything melted and we haved had quite balmy weather since. This has been a very strange start to winter and the new year especially. I hope this is just one of those cycle things, where you have an especially warm winter one year and then you go back to cold. I 'd hate to think that this is going to be a trend. I miss real winters, when you could count on the snow not melting. When you know you had all winter to skate and slide and didn't have to rush out and take advantage of the weather conditions while they lasted. I miss having enough snow, not only to make one large quintzee, (snow fort) but a whole row of them with inter-connecting tunnels. I miss walking across a frozen river to desert islands, building a fire and roasting hotdogs in the bush and then coming back home. I like summer and warm weather, and I always thought I'd prefer a warmer winter, but now that I live i