Tr\u00e8s chers lecteurs et tr\u00e8s ch\u00e8res lectrices, me voici ce matin, \u00e9bahie et surprise de constater que la missive d\u2019aujourd\u2019hui est la DEUX CENTI\u00c8ME LETTRE DU DIMANCHE. Oui, oui! Le temps passe tellement vite. Croyez-le ou non, j\u2019ai \u00e9crit la premi\u00e8re lettre \u00e0 \u00eatre publi\u00e9e sur la page Facebook des restaurants Cora le premier avril 2020 alors que la plan\u00e8te enti\u00e8re entreprenait une troisi\u00e8me semaine de confinement obligatoire. Tout \u00e9tait ferm\u00e9 et nos c\u0153urs pleuraient de ne plus pouvoir servir notre ch\u00e8re client\u00e8le.<\/p>\n
Nous voulions tellement vous garder dans nos c\u0153urs et aussi vous nourrir \u00e0 distance d\u2019assiettes de jolis mots, r\u00e9confortants et stimulants. Lettre apr\u00e8s lettre, avec le temps, vous \u00eates d\u00e9sormais des milliers d\u2019yeux affam\u00e9s de belles phrases et passionn\u00e9s d\u2019historiettes qui me suivent. Mon \u00e2me palpite, juste \u00e0 y penser. Tout ce que mes doigts ont compos\u00e9; tout l\u2019amour que mon c\u0153ur a engrang\u00e9.<\/p>\n
J\u2019imagine des oiseaux, des centaines d\u2019oiseaux de toutes les couleurs transportant mes mercis \u00e0 tous ceux qui me permettent d\u2019\u00e9crire. \u00c0 ceux d\u2019abord qui m\u2019inspirent, qui me lisent, \u00e0 ceux qui traduisent mes mots, \u00e0 ceux qui les corrigent, et \u00e0 ceux qui les envoient dans des tunnels magiques jusqu\u2019\u00e0 ce qu\u2019ils arrivent sains et saufs, chaque dimanche, sur les \u00e9crans de nos fid\u00e8les lecteurs et lectrices.<\/p>\n
De loin, je vois les aigles royaux comme des taches d\u2019encre dans le ciel. Ce sont eux qui transportent mes plus lourds mercis, ces \u00e9loges qui s\u2019adressent \u00e0 l\u2019incorporalit\u00e9 de ce monde. Merci \u00e0 l\u2019inspiration, ce souffle cr\u00e9ateur qui, telle une source inarr\u00eatable de mots, mat\u00e9rialise mes pens\u00e9es. Merci \u00e0 la cr\u00e9ativit\u00e9; cette fontaine divine qui jamais ne s\u2019ass\u00e8che et qui me permet d\u2019imaginer une for\u00eat \u00e0 partir d\u2019un buisson d\u2019herbes folles.<\/p>\n
Merci \u00e0 ce pr\u00e9cieux talent d\u2019\u00e9criture h\u00e9rit\u00e9 de ma m\u00e8re et dont j\u2019ai compris l\u2019existence seulement apr\u00e8s sa mort. Quel immense cadeau d\u2019une maman silencieuse!<\/p>\n
Merci \u00e0 la vaillance, cette courageuse guerri\u00e8re qui me comble chaque matin d\u2019\u00e9criture d\u2019une page bien remplie. Merci \u00e0 la pers\u00e9v\u00e9rance qui am\u00e9liore l\u2019originalit\u00e9 de mes mots et la rh\u00e9torique de mes phrases.<\/p>\n
Avec leurs longs becs arqu\u00e9s, les grosses corneilles noires prot\u00e8gent ma demeure et c\u2019est moi qui les remercie. Des journ\u00e9es enti\u00e8res, j\u2019\u00e9cris dans la verri\u00e8re au rythme de leurs cr\u00f4ak-cr\u00f4ak. J\u2019ai souvent l\u2019impression qu\u2019elles attirent mon attention.<\/p>\n
Des f\u00e9es tr\u00e8s sages volettent aussi derri\u00e8re les nuages. Elles attendent que mon encre s\u2019ass\u00e8che; que mon corps s\u2019envole et que l\u2019\u00e2me se fendille en milliers de virgules \u00e9toil\u00e9es.<\/p>\n
Je suis dans la gratitude la plus totale; tellement qu\u2019on dirait quelquefois que c\u2019est l\u2019\u00e9criture qui a besoin de moi. Les mots m\u2019attirent comme des aimants, ils soul\u00e8vent mes phrases et les lancent aux quatre vents.<\/p>\n
Je remercie mes cinq sens \u00e0 l\u2019\u0153uvre pour enrichir mon bien-\u00eatre. Entendre de la musique, go\u00fbter un premier caf\u00e9 ou croquer dans une pomme bien m\u00fbre, voir le soleil mauve se coucher, serrer dans mes bras mon petit-fils et humer l\u2019\u00e9tourdissant parfum des roses. Quel bonheur!<\/p>\n
Je remercie mes enfants, leurs enfants et les deux arri\u00e8re-petits-fils qui engraissent mon bonheur. Je remercie mes inconditionnels amis qui sont pour moi de v\u00e9ritables anges gardiens vivant \u00e0 proximit\u00e9 de mon patelin\u00a0: Catherine, Fran\u00e7ois, Neil, \u00c9ric, Ad\u00e8le, Carmen, Patricia, Claude, Steven et Marie-Pierre.<\/p>\n
Je remercie tous les grands \u00e9crivains, les po\u00e8tes et les paroliers; tous ces \u00eatres qui m\u2019\u00e9blouissent et m\u2019apprennent bien souvent les rouages du m\u00e9tier.<\/p>\n
Finalement, je remercie la folle du logis qui r\u00e9side dans ma t\u00eate. Elle a ce caract\u00e8re irraisonn\u00e9 de l\u2019imagination, laquelle \u00e9chappe \u00e0 la raison.<\/p>\n
Toujours, toujours, cette folle du logis m\u2019aide \u00e0 peaufiner le r\u00e9cit. Elle plante des fleurs dans la marge, trouve des mots rares, efface les adverbes inutiles et parach\u00e8ve la conclusion du r\u00e9cit.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tr\u00e8s chers lecteurs et tr\u00e8s ch\u00e8res lectrices, me voici ce matin, \u00e9bahie […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":26242,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-26240","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"Dear readers,\r\nI am surprised and amazed as I realize this morning that I\u2019m writing my 200th<\/sup> Sunday letter. Time really does fly by. Believe it or not, I wrote the first Sunday letter on April 1, 2020, while most of the planet was in mandatory lockdown. Everything was closed, including our restaurants, and it made us sad not to be able to serve our valued customers.\r\n\r\nWe wanted to keep you in our hearts, so we started serving you encouraging dishes of comforting words and stimulating thoughts. With each letter we gained more followers and readers, and you are now thousands of eyes that are hungry for well-written phrases and passionate stories every Sunday. My soul flutters just thinking about it. Everything my mind composed, all that my fingers have typed and all the love my heart has gathered.\r\n\r\nI imagine birds, hundreds of birds in a variety of colours, carrying my thanks to all those who\u2019ve allowed me to write. Beginning with those who inspire me, who read me, those who translate my every word, those who correct them and those who send them through the magic tunnels of social media until they appear, safe and sound each Sunday, on our dear readers\u2019 screens.\r\n\r\nFrom afar, I see royal eagles like splashes of ink in the sky. It must be them who carry my heaviest thanks, these praises addressed to the ethereal world. Thanks to inspiration, this creative breath, which, like an unstoppable rush of words, gives shape to my thoughts. Thanks to imagination, this divine fountain that never dries up and allows me to envision an entire forest from a small bush of wild weeds.\r\n\r\nThanks to my precious writing skills I inherited from my mother. Sadly, I never knew she was passionate about writing until after she had passed. What a magnificent gift from such a quiet mother!\r\n\r\nThanks to dauntlessness, this brave warrior who helps me deliver a full page each morning when I sit to write. Thanks to perseverance, who makes my words more original and my sentences more elegant.\r\n\r\nWith their long crooked beaks, the big black crows protect my home, and it is I who thank them. For days on end, I write in the solarium following the rhythm of their coos and caws. I often get the impression that they\u2019re simply after my attention.\r\n\r\nVery wise fairies also flitter behind the clouds. They\u2019re waiting for my ink to dry, my body to fly away and my soul to split into a thousand starry commas.\r\n\r\nI live in the most complete state of gratitude; so much so, that sometimes it feels like it\u2019s the words themselves who need me. They attract me like magnets; they lift up my sentences and throw them into the wind.\r\n\r\nI am thankful for my five senses that constantly work to enrich my well-being. To hear music, taste the first coffee in the morning or the sweetness of a ripe apple, see the sun go down in a purple blaze, feel my grandson in my arms and smell the sensational aroma of roses. What a delight!\r\n\r\nI thank my children, their children and my two great grandchildren who contribute to my happiness. I thank my unconditional friends, who are true guardian angels that live but a short distance away: Catherine, Fran\u00e7ois, Neil, \u00c9ric, Ad\u00e8le, Carmen, Patricia, Claude, Steven and Marie-Pierre.\r\n\r\nI thank all the great writers, poets and songwriters. All these fabulous creators amaze me and often teach me some new trick of the trade.\r\n\r\nFinally, I thank the chatterbox who lives inside my head. She possesses the instinctual reflex of imagination, which can\u2019t be pinned down by reason.\r\n\r\nAnd then there\u2019s the Chatty Cathy in my head, who\u2019s always helping me to polish my story. She plants flowers in the margin, finds uncommon words, deletes useless adverbs and completes the story\u2019s ending.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764"},"yoast_head":"\n