Tag Archives: oratory saint joseph

Saturday 29th March 2025 – THAT WAS BETTER …

… art the dialysis centre this afternoon. I had a couple of small wobbles towards the end but I managed to keep on going until the session concluded, and that’s progress compared to how things were on Thursday.

Having a somewhat better sleep might have accounted for some of it. By the time that I finished my notes and had done the backing up, it was 00:45 – much later than usual thanks to the football, but much earlier than Wednesday night.

Once again, I was asleep quite quickly and there I remained, totally motionless, until about 06:00, just as it was starting to become light. “Far too early for me to rise up” I thought so I turned over and actually, this morning, managed to go back to sleep.

When the alarm went off I threw off the quilt immediately but it took me a few minutes to rise up into a sitting position and a few more to head off into the bathroom.

It’s Dialysis Day today so I had a good wash, a scrub up, a shave, a change of clothes and even hand-washed my socks, undies and nightwear so that I would look nice and pretty. Then I headed off into the kitchen for the medication.

Back in here I had a listen to the dictaphone to find out where I’d been during the night. I was having a row with my brother … "what a surprise" – ed …. He made some kind of threatening gesture with a knife, that he was going to chase me until he caught me. Of course I dismissed that idea and carried on with what I was doing, which was preparing some things because someone was coming round to visit me. This story about fleeing through the woods with my brother behind me, I didn’t take it very seriously. A few minutes later I was working around the house performing some tasks. There was a couple of other people there, one of whom was my brother and one of them was this person who had come to see me, so I thought that I’d better finish preparing this pack of clothing that needs to be taken, then we can set off. While I was preparing it this guy came to see me. He asked “are you Eric?”. I replied “yes”. He answered “right, yes. I thought that I’d just put my foot in things. “Why is that?”. “Because I went up to your brother and asked ‘do you have those things for me’ thinking that he was you. He asked ‘what things?’ so I answered ‘that clothing that we ought to be dropping off in the woods’ and he made some kind of stupid remark about taking me into the woods and leaving me there’ “. I explained to him the situation and prepared everything so that we were ready to leave. But there was some swimming costume or something that fell out of the cupboard while I was fetching these clothes. I wasn’t really sure why that was there. It shouldn’t have been there either. I was sitting there puzzling about this and wondering if I was supposed to take it with me or whether it had found its way into that cupboard by accident.

Our disputes never reached the stage of going armed but we certainly didn’t behave like siblings, any of us. And I can still see this swimming costume even now. It’s a faded pale bluey-green bikini with a bright, dark pink trim. No-one I know has ever worn anything like this so I wonder why I’ve seen one during my sleeping hours. As for leaving things in the woods, in the past it was usually babies, especially sickly ones who were not expected to live. Sometimes they were simply abandoned and at other times they might be sacrifices to whatever gods and spirits inhabit the woods. FOLKLORE AS A HISTORICAL SCIENCE that we read the other week is full of fairy-tales relating to abandoned children.

Isabelle the Nurse had plenty to say for herself today, mostly about the chaos in the town centre. And sure enough, as predicted, the remodelling of the town centre won’t be complete for the Summer. They will stop work in July and August and then re-start. Heaven alone knows when they will finish.

After she left, I made breakfast, including some more of my apple and kiwi puree, and then read some more of MY BOOK.

Today, we are discussing pagan and prehistoric customs that have been absorbed into Church ritual, and he makes a very convincing case for many of them, although like most experts, he tend to see his favourite subject in every single one.

There were a couple of customs that stood out. In fact they leaped off the page right in front of my eyes. He tells us that "at both solstices it would appear that a special fire rite was practised. This consisted of tying straw on a wheel and rolling it when lighted down a hill. There is much evidence for the wheel at the summer, but less at the winter, solstice"

Anyone who has ever been to Gloucestershire on Spring Bank Holiday will know all about the Cooper’s Hill Cheese Rolling where a wheel of cheese is sent rolling off down a hill. People will be even more surprised to learn that not only has this event been going on for many centuries, it formerly took place on Whit Monday which, before Easter became a moveable feast, coincided with the start of what Lockyer describes as “the New May Year” and which corresponds with the alignment of many of the stone circles and menhirs … "PERSONShirs" – ed … at which we are looking.

He also tells us that in the olden days, some rural farmers "would travel bareheaded and barefooted from ten to twenty miles for the purpose of crawling on their knees round;" certain holy " wells, upright stones, and oak trees, westward, as the sun travels, some three times, some six, some nine, and so on in uneven numbers until their voluntary penances were completely fulfilled."

Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that in August 2013 when we were in Montréal WE WENT FOR A LOOK AT THE ORATORY OF SAINT JOSEPH and saw all of the pilgrims climbing up the endless flights of stairs on their knees to the Oratory. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

Back in here I had to hunt down a codec pack for some types of video as I had forgotten to add it in when I fitted the new drive. I found one of the more comprehensive packs and installed it, but there are still two or three videos that won’t play.

With downloading something from the internet I ran a complete virus scan on the computer and then emptied the recycle bin of all of the temporary files that the installation process had been using.

My cleaner came in, armed with a photograph, to fit my anaesthetic patches. The photo was the one that Emilie the Cute Consultant had prepared to tell my cleaner where to fit the patches these days.

The taxi was on time, driven by the young chatty guy and we had a very animated conversation all the way to the dialysis centre.

One of my predictions came true today. The dialysis session has been put back to four hours after Thursday’s fiasco. However, it’s not all doom and gloom because what we agreed is that there should be a maximum level of 850 millilitres per hour for a three-and a half hour session. So if I have 2000 millilitres to lose, at 3.5 hours that’s roughly 640 millilitres per hour so that’s good. But if there’s 3500 millilitres to lose, at 3.5 hours that’s 1000 millilitres per hour, so they will go for four hours in that case.

That sounds reasonable to me, I suppose. We need to reach some kind of agreement about something.

During the discussion I had an ice-pack on my arm, and when they came to plug me in at the news area of connection, it was one of the most painless that I have had. Still not perfect, but much better. We’ll have to see if it continues.

They set the blood pressure measurer every 20 minutes instead of every half-hour and came to check on me quite regularly. The machine rang regularly to say that blood pressure was low and they came scurrying over each time, but despite a few unpleasant moments, I kept on going.

The same driver brought me home and then I prepared tea. My bread bap wasn’t a success because I’d left the dough standing for too long and it had dried out. There’s nothing wrong with the principle though so in future I’ll have to make my bread roll early and bake it before I go to dialysis. The burger itself and baked potato and salad followed by orange, ginger and coconut cake with soya dessert was delicious.

So now I’ll dictate my radio notes and then go to bed. We lose an hour in the morning of course so I’ll be crabby all day… "so what’s new?" – ed

But seeing as we have been talking about ancient customs, folk tales and the like … "well, one of us has" – ed … each village used to have its wise man or woman, the faith healer or the enchanter.
One day a farmer went up to the local faith healer and said "remember that cow that you had that had worms and a bad attack of disease?"
"Of course I do" said the faith healer
"So what did you give it? Mine has the same affliction"
"I gave it a mixture of burnt ashes, sacred water from the well, two feathers from a goose and a ladle-full of clay"
A few weeks later the faith healer is walking through the village when the farmer grabs him by the throat
"I gave that cow the mixture that you told me, and two days later it died"
"Now isn’t that a coincidence" said the faith healer. "So did mine!"

Monday 5th September 2016 – THEY SAY THAT A YEAR …

… is a period of 365 disappointments, and I’ve been having my fair share just recently. And another one ha reared its ugly head today. The night bus that I was planning to take tomorrow night – well, I can’t. Apparently there’s no room on it, and that’s that.

There is however another bus, but that leaves at 06:00 on Wednesday morning and so faute de mieux, I’m on that. But 06:00 in the morning – does that exist? We shall have to find out.

It also means that I shall have to stay another night in a hotel here, and for no good purpose too which is unfortunate. And “here”, as in the Comfort Inn on the Cote de Liesse, is clearly impossible as there is no way that I could be in the city centre in time for the bus.

However, wandering around in the vicinity of the coach station, I came across a street full of about 20 disreputable cat-houses, a mere 5 minutes stagger away from where I want to be and so tomorrow night I shall be installing myself in one of those.

God help the bed-bugs with me on the way!

Now I can’t remember how many times I left my bed last night. It might have been one, but on the other hand it might have been none. One thing that I do know was that we had the Sleep of the Dead.

I was in bed, as I said last night, by 21:15 and I remember nothing whatever until about 04:40. Totally painless it was.

And I didn’t feel up to doing much for the first hour and a half. I stretched out here on the sofa and took it easy with a glass of cold spruce beer and a coffee. No point in having a decent, comfy sofa if you don’t make full use of it.

Breakfast was from 06:30 and I was there very shortly afterwards (something like 06:31 actually) and here we had a minor panic. Bagels (and a toaster, coffee and orange juice) there were a-plenty. But where was the maple syrup? You can’t come to Canada and not have toasted bagels and maple syrup for breakfast. Anyway, eventually some was found and that was me all set up for the morning.

I had a companion too – a North African who told me that he was from Belgium. He was here on a tourist visa, so he said, but he was looking for work and asked me if I could help him. i gave him a few pointers, such as I know them, which isn’t very much, and then came back up here to attack some paperwork, of which there was more than enough. It didn’t help with me … err … closing my eyes for a little relaxation at some point during the proceedings.

But I can’t stay here for ever. Despite the fact that it’s Labour Day, there are things to do, places to go, people to see and all of that and so I need to sort myself out for the bus.

And I didn’t have long to wait either which was just as well because even though it was only 10:00 it was stifling hot already. The bus to the metro and the metro to the Berri-UQAM station and the coach station round the back. And this is where I had my disappointment.

deserted calm back alley rue ontario montreal canada september septembre 2016But of course you know that we don’t have problems, we have solutions and so we set off to put our principles into practice.

This isn’t a photograph of of my selected cat-house by the way. This is a photo of a very tranquil little alleyway at the back of what used to be a boot and shoe factory, and it’s right in the centre of Montreal. It wasn’t what I was expecting to find in a place like this.

typical montreal houses rue st timothée canada september septembre 2016This isn’t a photo of my selected cat-house either.

If you are a regular reader of this rubbish you will recall that I’ve been posting the odd photo every now and again of houses in Montreal and the surroundings because some of the inner-city housing has a very special charm or beauty.

And these here in the rue Timothée just go to show what can be done with a little imagination – something that seems to be sadly lacking in Europe these days.

Having resolved the issues of the next stage of my journey, the next plan was to resolve the issues of my stomach. It was lunchtime.

rue st catherine montreal canada september septembre 2016The rue St Catherine is what is described as the city’s “Latin Quarter” – something that took me by surprise seeing as how all of the signs were written in French.

It was also Gay Pride day or something in the street apparently. There were loads of same-sex couples strolling hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm. I took my time over eating my Subway sandwich (without spilling it all over the floor this year) – I didn’t want to bugger off yet.

street piano rue st catherine montreal canada september septembre 2016Last year, you may remember, they had street pianos dotted around all over the city so that anyone who fancied a quick tinkle on the ivories could go and have a play around.

They are doing the same thing this year too, and here is a pianist having a right old go on the joanna and he’s recruited a couple of vocalists to give him some accompaniment. I suppose that it’s all part of life’s rich pageant

chess match rue st catherine montreal canada september septembre 2016There’s all kinds of stuff going on in the rue St Catherine and at a certain point there are four or five giant chessboards. People give their names to the organisers and they are called up to play when a previous game is finished.

Here in this game we had a dispute over the rules of “castling” and I learned something that I didn’t know before. And that’s always good news.

We had a few moment of excitement in the rue Sainte Catherine too. A woman, coming out of a building, saw another man, went over to him to say ‘Happy Birthday!” and grabbed him in the most enormous bear-hug that went on for hours.

I was so impressed that I went over to her and told her that if that was the reaction, then I would like to say that it was my birthday too. However, I didn’t have the same treatment – not at all!

I told you that it was not my lucky day, didn’t I?

parc arthur therrien la salle verdun montreal canada september septembre 2016But by mid-afternoon the heat was thoroughly overwhelming and the only protection is flight. I flew to the Metro and took the train out to Verdun and the La Salle metro station.

Just down the road is the Parc Arthur Therrien, whoever he is when he’s at home, if he ever is, and that was my destination. It was great to see the centre of Montreal from this kind of distance rather than being stuck in the middle of it in this heat.

saint joseph oratory parc arthur therrien verdun montreal canada september septembre 2016Over there in the distance at the back of Mount Royal is the Oratory of Saint Joseph which is on the Cote-des-Neiges. You may remember that we visited the Oratory in … errr … 2013 wasn’t it?

But not today, I’m going to enjoy the sun and have a good time, watching all of the people enjoying themselves – and I say “all of the people” because there are hordes here and everyone is having fun – even all of the kids who are splashing around in the swimming pool and the ponds.

st lawrence river verdun montreal canada september septembre 2016As for me though, I headed off into the shade and found myself the first real view of the St Lawrence river for this year. The motorway bridge away in the distance (downstream, fortunately) rather detracts from the scenery, but never mind.

And so, having found a nice shady spot out of the 32°C temperature, I closed my eyes for … errr … 45 minutes and it was totally painless, I’ll tell you that! It did me the world of good too!

st lawrence river blocks of flats verdun montreal canada september septembre 2016Having hunted down the gentleman’s rest room (and had I not needed it I would probably still be asleep there now) I went for a walk along the edge of the river, watching the fishermen, the canoeists and the jet-skiers.

And also admiring the properties on the river front and how I would love to live in an apartment in a building like one of those.

And you can tell by the sky ust what kind of weather we are having today. It’s magnificent.

And so I headed back into the city and changed trains for the Jean Drapeau station on the Ile Sainte Helene in the middle of the river at the other end of the city. That ought to be nice and cool with the breeze coming in off the river as the evening draws on.

But that wasn’t to be either. The island was closed off as there was an “event” taking place there – some kind of music concert that was clearly not my type, so I headed back to town. Just round the corner from the Sherbrooke metro station, seeing as I was in that end of the city, is a little Lebanese restaurant that does an assiette falafel at a very democratic price. That was tea organised.

I headed back here afterwards, part of the way in company with a woman from the North East of England who had lived here for 8 years and couldn’t stand the heat.

And forget your white-knuckle rides in amusement parks. Take the 202 bus from DuCollege Metro Station back to here with the lady driver that I had, and you’ll have the time of your life. I ended up back here, shaken but not stirred, at 20:45 and by 21:15 I was showered and in bed, well on my way to the Land of Nod.

Tuesday 27th August 2013 – WELL, HERE WE ARE

airbus A330 air transat montreal dorval pierre l trudeau airportAnd here is the rusty steed that brought me here. It’s not, as you might think, an Airbus A330 despite its looks – it is in fact a BE2c that was shot down by the Baron von Richthofen in 1917 on the Western Front and hastily reassembled by Air Transat the day before the flight.

Called The White Bird, it was piloted by those well-known Transatlantic flyers Nungesser and Coli and before I could sit down, I had to move Charles LIndbergh’s sandwiches off my seat.

Strangely, it was the most stress-free flight I’ve ever been on and I’ve no idea why – usually I’m terribly wound up on a flight.

air transat airbus A330 full length mirror in toiletBut only a company such as Air Transat would install a full-length mirror in the beichstuhl so that you could watch yourself riding the porcelain horse. I’ve no idea what musthave gone through their minds when they requested this as a specification. Something to do with the “Mile-High Club”? I did notice that the door was very discreetly placed.

At the airport, again, a very unstressfull passage into the country and then outside where, surprise surprise, my shuttle bus was waiting (it’s a good idea to send them an e-mail) and down to the hotel – the Quality Hotel (although they didn’t say what kind of quality) – where I’m now safely installed.

bus 202 montreal public transport ducollege metro stationThis isn’t a hotel shuttle bus – it’s a Montreal service bus, the 202 to be precise, and here it is outside the Ducollege Underground Station. There’s a bus stop right outside the hotel and that was where I leapt aboard it to take me to the Underground.

Seeing how I’ve not booked a car for a few days, I’m on the buses (and the Underground) for a while. There’s loads of Montreal that I haven’t seen so I’m going to be doing some sightseeing, and by far the best way to get around is on the public transport, especially as a three-day ticket only costs about $18:00 and you can go everywhere with that.

Oratory of Saint Joseph, Cote des Neiges MontrealI took the Underground to the Cote des Neiges station because one of the places that I had always wanted to visit was the huge Oratory of Saint Joseph on the side of Mount Royal. I’ve driven past it on dozens of occasions but never been in and it looks so impressive from a distance.

But not so from close up as it’s built of concrete blocks and even my bricklaying is better than whoever built this. It’s a site of pilgrimage and a true pilgrim will climb up all of the steps on his knees in order to seek forgiveness for his sins – and so why they have shuttle buses, escalators and lifts, given the current state of the Catholic Church, is totzlly beyond me. They’ve totally missed the point.

There was a supermarket around the corner so now that I’m stocked up with bagels, maple syrup and strawberry jam, I can have a good breakfast.

But whoever heard of a Canadian bar laitière, or Ice Cream parlour, running out of maple syrup-flavoured frozen vegan ice cream? Unbelievable!