Tout va mieux avec...

 

Português

English

Je regardais une conversation sur la culinaire, centrée sur les recettes de poulet, sur le profil Facebook d'un cousin, mais je n'y ai rien commenté, car je ne connais rien au sujet et le poulet n'est pas mon plat préféré.

Mais j'ai besoin de me nourrir. Alors, s'il le faut, je mange de la viande de poulet, même si je n'aime pas ça. Je n'aime pas la viande de volaille en général. Sauf exceptions : du blanc de poulet râpé, sans odeur de poulet, c'est très bien. Une cuisse de poulet bien assaisonnée est également bonne.

L’apparence du morceau ne doit pas non plus me rappeler les cours d’anatomie. Si c’est le cas, je tombe dans un jeûne absolu. Certaines recettes de porc me donnent cette horrible impression, mais pas toutes. J'aime le porc, mais pas tous les jours.

La viande d'animaux sauvages ici au Canada, comme le cerf et l'orignal, ne m'attire pas non plus. C'est trop foncé et avec un goût trop prononcé.

Mon préféré est le bœuf. Que c'est brutal de dire quelque chose comme ça. Préféré à manger ! Non, je ne deviens pas végétarienne. Mais il vaut mieux ne pas se souvenir d'eux en train de paître, quand c'est l'heure de manger, ça me rend très triste.

Je suis devenue comme ça après avoir vieilli. Avant, j'étais plus vorace.

En tout cas, tout va mieux avec du riz et des haricots. Et avec la boisson gazeuse noire aussi. Things go better with...

~~~~~~~~~

Liens connexes :

Coco a pris des vacances

Things go better with...

 

Português

Français

I was looking at a conversation about cooking, centered on chicken recipes, on a Facebook cousin's profile, but I didn't comment anything there, because I don't know anything about the subject and chicken isn't my favorite dish.

But I need to nourish myself. So, if necessary, I eat chicken meat, even though I don't like it. I don't like poultry meat, in general. With exceptions: shredded chicken breast, without chicken smell, is fine. A well seasoned chicken leg is also good.

The appearance of the piece must not remind me of anatomy classes either. If so, I fall into an absolute fast. Some pork recipes give me this horrible impression, but not all. I like pork, but not every day.

Meat from wild animals here in Canada, like deer and moose, don't appeal to me either. They are too dark and have a strong taste.

My favorite is the ox. What a brutal thing to say something like that. Favorite to eat! No, I'm not becoming a vegetarian. But it is better to not remember them grazing, when it's time to eat, it makes me very sad.

I became like this after I got older. I was more voracious before.

Anyway, everything goes better with rice and beans. And with that black soft drink too. 

~~~~~~~~~

Related links:

Coco took a vacation

Tudo vai bem com...

 

Français

English

Estava espiando uma conversa sobre culinária, centrada em receitas de galinha, no perfil de um primo, no Facebook, mas não comentei nada lá, porque sou nula no assunto e galinha não é o meu prato preferido.

Mas preciso me alimentar.Então, se preciso for, eu como, mas não gosto de carne de galináceos. Nem de aves, em geral. Com exceções: peito de frango desfiado, sem cheiro de frango, desce bem. Uma coxa de frango bem despistada com temperos, sei lá, também é bom.

A aparência da peça também não pode me lembrar aulas de anatomia. Aí, pronto, sou acometida de um jejum absoluto. Algumas receitas de carne de porco me dão essa impressão horrorosa, mas não todas. Gosto de carne de porco, mas não todo dia.

Carnes de animais selvagens aqui do Canadá, como cervo e alce, também não me apetecem. São escuras demais e têm um gosto forte.

Meu preferido é o boi. Olha que coisa brutal falar assim. Preferido para comer! Não, não estou com tendências vegetarianas. Mas não posso me lembrar de vê-los pastando, na hora de comer, me dá muita pena.

Fiquei assim, depois de velha. Eu era mais voraz antes

De qualquer modo, tudo fica bom, tudo vai bem com arroz e feijão. E com aquele refrigerante pretinho também.  

~~~~~~~~~

Links relacionados:

Chocolate: o boizinho que tirou férias

Ce n'était pas Batman (version courte)

 

Português

English

À propos du besoin de moustiquaires... et pas seulement pour les moustiques!

Il était une fois une femme médecin qui était de garde dans l'hôpital et a été appelée le soir, pour voir un patient. Oui, c'était moi. J'ai examiné le patient dans sa chambre, puis je suis allée au poste de garde pour donner les directives à l'infirmière qui était là. À une extrémité du long comptoir, j'ai commencé à prescrire et à remplir des formulaires pour les tests que le patient devrait subir. À l'autre bout, l'infirmière était assise à côté du comptoir, en attendant la paperasse que je produisais.

L'hôpital avait des jardins intérieurs qui donnaient passage à d'autres ailes et départements. Il faisait très chaud. La porte du jardin attenant était ouverte, de même que la fenêtre de la pièce. Une brise nocturne circulait, agréablement, et atténuait la chaleur et les odeurs pharmaco-hospitalières.

Soudain, quelque chose de plus dense que la brise entre par la porte, en bruissant dans l'air – vuf, vuf. La pièce n'était pas grande, en un instant le monstre ailé est passé au-dessus de ma tête. Il ne m'a pas touché, mais j'ai ressenti le déplacement de l'air très proche et j'ai vu l'ombre de l'animal sur le comptoir où j'écrivais. Immédiatement, j'ai su que c'était une chauve-souris – et ce n'était pas Batman.

J'ai été prise par une peur incontrôlable. J'ai réussi, à peine, à réprimer mes cris, qui sortaient comme des gémissements étouffés. Déboussolée, je suis allée vers l'infirmière, je me suis accroupie à côté d'elle, en me rétrécissant le plus que je pouvais, presque en position fœtale, et j'ai protégé ma tête avec mes mains. Et, encore plus vexatoire, je crois que j'ai appuyé ma tête sur ses genoux – ma mémoire essaye d'effacer cette partie, mais je crains que ce soit vrai ?. L'infirmière est restée imperturbable, peut-être paralysée par ma réaction – une médecin qui est venu en aide à un patient et paniquée à cause d'une chauve-souris.

À ce moment-là, nous ne savions plus où était l'animal. J'ai retourné à ma chaise rapidement, très gênée, en essayant de retrouver ma dignité... ?. Pour compléter la scène, un jeune homme en uniforme du secteur d'entretien arrive, avec un énorme filet semblable à celui pour attraper des papillons et avec un long câble. Il a vérifié partout mais n'a pas trouvé la chauve-souris. Peut-être, était-elle sortie par où elle était entrée, ou pire, s'était dirigée vers d'autres pièces de l'hôpital.

Tout cela est très grotesque ! L'hôpital n'est pas un endroit pour chauve-souris! Pas non plus pour des moustiques qui transmettent des maladies, pas pour les moustiques point. Et je laisse d'autres cas "poilus" pour une autre fois...

Chaque fois que je me souviens de cet épisode, je me souviens aussi d'un autre, que l'humoriste brésilien Jô Soares a raconté sur Max Nunes, producteur de son émission et autrefois médecin, terrifié par les papillons de nuit. Selon l'artiste, il a passé une nuit entière dans la chambre d'un patient, car chaque fois qu'il ouvrait la porte pour partir, il y avait un papillon de nuit qui volait au couloir. Le patient n'a jamais eu un médecin aussi dévoué ! C'est très drôle l'écouter à raconter ce cas. Bon, au moins je suis en bonne compagnie dans mes peurs...?

Mais, s'il vous plaît, posez des moustiquaires si vous voulez laisser entrer de l'air !

Pour compléter:

Je n'ai pas trouvé la vidéo où Jô Soares raconte l'histoire, mais j'ai trouvé une avec la fille de Max Nunes, également dans une émission de Jô (en portugais):

https://globoplay.globo.com/v/1365252/

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liens connexes:

Version longue

It wasn't Batman (short version)

 

Français

Português

About the need of mosquito nets... and not only for mosquitos!

Once upon a time there was a doctor who was on duty and was called at night, in one of the hospitals where she worked. Yes, it was me. I examined the patient in his room, then went to the duty station to give instructions to the nurse who was there. At one end of the long counter, I began prescribing and filling out forms for tests the patient would have to undergo. At the other end, the nurse was sitting next to the counter, waiting for the paperwork I was producing.

The hospital had interior gardens which gave passage to other wings and departments. It was very hot. The door to the adjoining garden was open, as was the window of the room where I was. A night breeze circulated, pleasantly, and attenuated the heat and the pharmaceutical-hospital odors.

Suddenly, something denser than the breeze comes through the door, rustling in the air – whoosh, whoosh. The room was not big, in an instant the winged monster flew over my head, in a low-flying flight. It didn't touch me, but I felt the air moving very close and saw the animal's shadow on the counter where I was writing. Immediately, I knew it was a bat – and it wasn't Batman.

I was overcome by uncontrollable fear. I barely managed to stifle my screams, which came out like suffocated moans. Terrified, I went towards the nurse, crouched down next to her, shrinking as much as I could, almost in a fetal position, covering my head with my hands. And, even more embarrassing, I believe I was resting my head on her knees – my memory tries to erase this part, but I'm afraid it's true. The nurse remained impassive, perhaps paralyzed by my reaction – a doctor who came to help a patient, panicking because of a bat.

At that point, we no longer knew where the animal was. I quickly returned to my chair, very embarrassed, trying to regain my dignity... lol. To complete the scene, a young man in uniform from the maintenance department arrives, with a huge net similar to that for catching butterflies and with a long handle. He checked everywhere but couldn't find the bat. Perhaps, it exited the way it had entered, or worse, headed to other rooms in the hospital.

This is all very grotesque! A hospital is not a place for bats! Neither for mosquitoes transmitting diseases, nor for mosquitoes period. And let's leave other "hairy" cases for another time...

Every time I remember this episode, I also remember another, which the Brazilian comedian Jô Soares told about Max Nunes, the producer of his show and once a doctor, who was terrified of night butterflies. According to the artist, he spent an entire night in a patient's room, because every time he opened the door to leave, there was a night butterfly flying in the hallway. The patient has never had such a dedicated doctor! It's very funny listening to him recount this case. Well, at least I'm in good company in my fears...lol

But please put up mosquito nets if you want to let air in!

To complete:

I didn't find the video where Jô Soares tells the story, but I found one with Max Nunes' daughter, also in a Jô show (in Portuguese):

https://globoplay.globo.com/v/1365252/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Não era o Batman (versão reduzida)

 

English

Français

Sobre a necessidade de telas... e não somente para os insetos!

Era uma vez uma médica que estava de plantão e foi chamada à noite, num dos hospitais onde trabalhava. Sim, era eu. Atendi o paciente no seu quarto, em seguida me dirigi ao posto de enfermagem para dar as diretivas à enfermeira que lá estava. Comecei a prescrever e fazer pedidos de exames, sentada de um lado da longa mesa. Na outra extremidade, estava sentada a enfermeira, aguardando a papelada que eu estava produzindo.

O hospital é daqueles que têm jardins internos, que dão passagem a outras alas e departamentos. Estava muito quente. A porta que dava para o jardim contíguo estava aberta, bem como a janela do recinto. Uma brisa notívaga circulava agradavelmente, atenuando o calor e os odores farmacêutico-hospitalares.

Eis que, de repente, algo bem mais denso que a brisa entra pela porta, farfalhando no ar – vuf, vuf. A sala não era grande, num instante o monstro alado passou por cima da minha cabeça, num voo rasante. Não encostou em mim, mas senti o deslocamento do ar bem próximo e vi a sombra daquele bicho sobre a mesa onde escrevia. Imediatamente, soube que era um morcego – e não era o Batman. Fui tomada por um medo incontrolável. Com muito custo consegui abafar meus gritos, que saíram como gemidos sufocados. Desabalada, fui em direção à enfermeira, me agachei ao lado dela, me encolhendo o máximo que podia, quase em posição fetal, cobrindo minha cabeça com as mãos. E, mais vexaminoso ainda, creio que apoiava minha cabeça nos joelhos dela – minha memória tenta apagar esta parte, mas receio que seja verdade. A enfermeira permaneceu impávida, talvez paralisada diante da minha reação – uma médica que veio socorrer um doente, em pânico por causa de um morcego.

Naquela altura, já não sabíamos onde estava o animal. Voltei para a minha cadeira rapidamente, envergonhadíssima, rindo sem graça, tentando recobrar minha dignidade... rsrsrs. Para completar a cena, entra um moço uniformizado, do setor de manutenção, empunhando uma rede parecida com aquelas de pegar borboleta, em forma de coador de café, só que enorme e com um cabo bem longo. Fez uma vistoria no local, mas não encontrou o morcego. Talvez, tivesse saído pela porta por onde entrou ou, pior, ido para outros cômodos do hospital.

Isso tudo é muito grotesco! Hospital não é lugar de morcego! Nem de mosquitos transmitindo doenças, nem de mosquitos ponto. E vamos deixar outros casos "cabeludos" para uma outra vez...

Sempre que me lembro desse meu vexame, lembro também de um outro que o Jô Soares contou sobre o Max Nunes, produtor do programa dele e médico, que tinha pavor de bruxas – aquelas mariposas, insetos assemelhados a borboletas, de voo noturno. Segundo o Jô Soares, ele passou uma noite inteira no quarto de um paciente, pois cada vez que abria a porta para sair, tinha uma bruxa voando no corredor. O paciente nunca teve um médico tão dedicado! Vocês podem imaginar o Jô Soares contando essa história, é de chorar de rir. Bom, pelo menos estou em boa companhia nos meus medos... rsrsrs

Mas, por favor, ponham telas nas janelas e segundas portas de tela, se quiserem deixar o ar entrar!

Para complementar:

Não achei o vídeo do Jô Soares contando o caso, mas achei um da filha do Max Nunes falando sobre isso, também em um programa do Jô:

https://globoplay.globo.com/v/1365252/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Links relacionados:

Não era o Batman (versão original)

Plaid cat

 

Français

Português

There was a game from times of my childhood, we could say from yesteryear :-), where we declaimed or sang little questions and answers, whose meaning I don't know, sometimes it seems like it was just to rhyme. This year, certain circumstances reminded me one of these games and I translated it. Luckily, I could find a rhyme :-)

"Once upon a time there was a plaid cat in the store. Do you want me to tell it once more?"

As winter approached, there was an excellent quality bed sheet set for sale here in Quebec. When we went to bed, we didn't have the feeling of a cold, damp sheet. It seemed like it was already hot in there. I don't know what material it was made of. The ones I had were already very old, I threw them in the trash.

I bought another one. I didn't find the old brands. I look for them everywhere, without success. I even went to the store where I had bought my old ones, in the town where I lived. There are only printed fleece models! Yes, they are made by that three dimensional printing technology.

Of this new type, there were few pattern options. I ended up choosing one with a red fitted sheet, a red and black plaid flat sheet, and a red pillowcase. I said to myself: it will brighten up, give color in winter. What a regret... :-)

From the first day, red and black fraying and pilling, similar to those that form on some fabrics, began to appear in every corner of the apartment, and not just the corners. These elements attacked mercilessly, sticking to my slippers, stockings and other clothing. I couldn't keep the floor clean, they seemed to proliferate. They were everywhere.

There is no wind inside the apartment, it is hermetically closed during winter. They are not living beings that reproduce... I hope not! :-) I don't have a plaid cat. So, it was me who carried them here and there. If anyone doubts that we are vehicles for the dissemination of microbes, here is the unpleasantly macroscopic proof! :-)

I thought to myself: The sheet set must be fading away. I checked, there was no sign of fabric loss. A mystery... hahaha.

What am I going to do? I've already done. I threw it in the trash! Next winter... Do you want me to tell you the story again? No, from that plaid cat, never again.