7\u00a0h\u00a030 au caf\u00e9 du village
\nCroyez-le ou non, ce matin, il pleut tellement fort que j\u2019ai peur de sortir de ma bagnole. Le stationnement du caf\u00e9 est d\u00e9sert et mes yeux fouillent l\u2019horizon \u00e0 la recherche d\u2019une arche de No\u00e9. J\u2019attends un peu que l\u2019averse se calme et poussant mon si\u00e8ge vers l\u2019arri\u00e8re, j\u2019essaie d\u2019ouvrir mon nouveau parapluie rouge. Il est si beau, si gros que je peine \u00e0 le sortir de la bagnole. Vite, vite, j\u2019empoigne ma mallette et je fonce t\u00eate baiss\u00e9e vers la porte du caf\u00e9.<\/p>\n
7\u00a0h\u00a058
\nEnfin je m\u2019installe \u00e0 ma place pr\u00e9f\u00e9r\u00e9e avec, derri\u00e8re moi, la fen\u00eatre et son rideau de gouttelettes m\u2019emp\u00eachant de bien voir dehors. Sur ma table, je d\u00e9pose mon grand iPad, mon cahier de notes, quelques stylos et une plus petite tablette pour chercher ou corriger mes mots.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est dimanche, l\u2019habituelle journ\u00e9e des familles convoitant leurs g\u00e2teries dominicales\u00a0: tartes au citron, Paris-Brest, g\u00e2teaux au fromage, tiramisu, mille-feuilles, tartelettes de toutes sortes et d\u00e9licieuses viennoiseries. Viendront-ils aujourd\u2019hui? Peut-\u00eatre devrais-je implorer \u00c9ole, le dieu grec du vent aux ailes toujours mouill\u00e9es? Toutes ces jeunes et moins jeunes familles m\u00e9ritent ces petits plaisirs. Moi-m\u00eame je prie pour que cesse la pluie.<\/p>\n
8\u00a0h\u00a050
\nPendant qu\u2019\u00e0 l\u2019ext\u00e9rieur un restant d\u2019orage tournaille, quelques braves papas aux bras charg\u00e9s de marmots entrent dans le caf\u00e9. Malgr\u00e9 l\u2019eau qui d\u00e9gouline de leurs cheveux mouill\u00e9s, les enfants courent vers l\u2019amoncellement de p\u00e2tisseries. Ils rient, ils crient, leurs minuscules doigts barbouillant la vitre toute propre du comptoir \u00e0 viennoiseries. Peu \u00e0 peu, la f\u00eate du dimanche reprend son cours. Le caf\u00e9 se remplume et les petites bouches s\u2019esclaffent \u00e0 chaque table. Bien \u00e0 l\u2019aise, les mamans sirotant leurs latt\u00e9s ressemblent \u00e0 des \u00e9tudiantes en cong\u00e9.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est ainsi que j\u2019adore ma vie, scribe et t\u00e9moin de cette glorieuse banalit\u00e9 du quotidien. J\u2019accumule tous ces gestes d\u00e9licieux, ces sourires \u00e0 croquer, ces bonjours enrubann\u00e9s et je me r\u00e9jouis de les disperser aux quatre vents. Je crois fermement que le bonheur ass\u00e8che de lui-m\u00eame tous les orages de la vie.<\/p>\n
10\u00a0h\u00a020
\nLe torse bomb\u00e9, le dieu grec des vents a s\u00e9ch\u00e9 tout le parking et les deux galeries du caf\u00e9. Aucune table vide \u00e0 l\u2019int\u00e9rieur comme \u00e0 l\u2019ext\u00e9rieur. Il est donc temps que je quitte l\u2019endroit pour ma balade du dimanche.<\/p>\n
La Mini Cooper grimpe maintenant vers Sainte-Agathe et fait le tour du magnifique Lac des Sables. J\u2019aime tellement conduire et admirer le paysage, le jaunissement h\u00e2tif des feuilles contrastant avec le vert \u00e9clatant des gigantesques sapins. Dame nature m\u2019enchante et me garde \u00e9tonn\u00e9e d\u2019autant de beaut\u00e9s. J\u2019en profite aussi pour revisiter l\u2019attrayant \u00ab\u00a0COULEUR CAF\u00c9 SIGNATURE\u00a0\u00bb au 7, de la rue Principale. J\u2019adore l\u2019endroit avec ses grandes tables accueillantes, ses fauteuils confortables, ses jolies boules de lumi\u00e8re, ses plantes suspendues, ses g\u00e2teries d\u00e9licieuses et ses caf\u00e9s hors du commun.<\/p>\n
11\u00a0h\u00a045
\nIl fait tellement beau soudainement que je d\u00e9cide d\u2019aller au-del\u00e0 de l\u2019autoroute du nord vers le charmant village de Mont-Tremblant. L\u00e0 o\u00f9 se trouve une pr\u00e9cieuse librairie ind\u00e9pendante nomm\u00e9e \u00ab\u00a0CARPE DIEM\u00a0\u00bb. C\u2019est un tr\u00e9sor bien cach\u00e9, en retrait de la route principale et il faut conna\u00eetre l\u2019endroit pour y acc\u00e9der. J\u2019aime surtout leur \u00e9chantillonnage de bons magazines, d\u2019essais litt\u00e9raires, de po\u00e9sie et de romans s\u00e9rieux. Dans de tels endroits, ma t\u00eate me dit toujours que je n\u2019ai besoin de rien et je ne l\u2019\u00e9coute jamais. Je ne peux r\u00e9sister, surtout aux bouquins bien \u00e9crits. J\u2019ai demand\u00e9 des nouvelles du prochain Julia Kerninon et, youpi!, on me confirme fin octobre. C\u2019est mon auteure pr\u00e9f\u00e9r\u00e9e avec aussi l\u2019Islandaise Au\u00f0ur Ava \u00d3lafsd\u00f3ttir.<\/p>\n
13\u00a0h\u00a050
\nJe reprends la route en sens inverse, avec deux magazines, quelques bouquins et un petit creux. Comme je ne mange jamais avant treize heures, les boyaux commencent \u00e0 gargouiller. Un beau restant de quiche aux \u00e9pinards m\u2019attend \u00e0 la maison.<\/p>\n
Saviez-vous que cette vieille reine des d\u00e9jeuners n\u2019a jamais appris \u00e0 d\u00e9jeuner le matin? Oui, oui, m\u00eame si c\u2019est elle-m\u00eame qui, il y a 36 ans, a cr\u00e9\u00e9 ce d\u00e9licieux concept de restauration matinale, elle-m\u00eame a toujours \u00e9t\u00e9 en cuisine \u00e0 concocter ses d\u00e9lices pour sa client\u00e8le affam\u00e9e. C\u2019\u00e9tait la r\u00e8gle. Il fallait d\u2019abord assouvir tout le monde et nous, les enfants, les employ\u00e9s et moi mangions vers 13 h 30. Dans ma famille, l\u2019habitude est rest\u00e9e.<\/p>\n
Je mange apr\u00e8s 13\u00a0h, je me tape une petite sieste et ensuite je lis quelques heures pour am\u00e9liorer mon \u00e9criture. \u00c0 18\u00a0h pile, j\u2019allume le monstre parlant pour quelques nouvelles plan\u00e9taires, puis je lui ferme le clapet. J\u2019\u00e9cris encore quelques heures sur ma table de cuisine et vers 20\u00a0h je soupe de poisson ou en grignotant l\u00e9g\u00e8rement : smoothie, assiette de fruits, noix, dattes et mes pr\u00e9cieuses boules d\u2019\u00e9nergie maison. Puis, chaque soir en pyjama, \u00e9tendue sur le confortable sofa du salon, je m\u2019endors dans les bras de Morph\u00e9e, avec un livre sur le nez.<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
7\u00a0h\u00a030 au caf\u00e9 du village Croyez-le ou non, ce matin, il pleut […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":27575,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-27569","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"7:30 a.m. at the coffee shop\r\n\r\nBelieve it or not, the rain is pouring so hard this morning that I\u2019m afraid to get out of my car. The parking lot at the coffee shop is empty and my eyes scan the horizon for Noah\u2019s ark. I wait a bit while the deluge lessens. I move the car seat as far back as possible and try to open my pretty new red umbrella. It\u2019s so big that I have a hard time getting it out of the car. I quickly grab my tote bag and make a beeline for the door with my head down.\r\n\r\n7:58 a.m.\r\nI finally sit down at my favourite spot. A curtain of droplets covering the window blocks my view of the outside world. I place my iPad on the table, my notepad, a few pens and a smaller notepad, on which I write words that I need to look up or correct.\r\n\r\nIt\u2019s Sunday, the day when families usually come in for their weekly treat: lemon pie, Paris-Brest, cheesecake, tiramisu, Napoleon cake, torts and delicious tartlets of all sorts. Will they still come here today with this weather? Perhaps I should implore Aeolus, the Greek god of the winds whose wings are always wet?\r\n\r\n8:50 a.m.\r\nA few brave fathers, carrying their little ones in their arms, enter the coffee shop in a hurry while the remnants of a storm still swirl outside. The kids run towards the counter filled with pastries, water trickling down their wet hair. They laugh, they scream and their tiny dirty fingers smear the pristine glass of the pastry counter. Little by little, the usual Sunday morning rituals, with treats and celebrations, return. The coffee shop is filling up with small mouths laughing at every table. Comfortably seated, mothers sip on their lattes and look like teenage students on a school break.\r\n\r\nI love my life, being a witness to the glorious banality of everyday life and capturing it in words. I collect all the delicious gestures, the smiles biting into life, the sweet hellos wrapped in ribbons. It delights me to be able to throw them into the wind and share them with my readers. I firmly believe that happiness dries up all the downpours of life.\r\n\r\n10:20 a.m.\r\nWith his inflated chest full of air, the Greek god succeeded in drying the entire parking lot and the coffee shop\u2019s two patios. Time has come for me to leave this place and head out for my Sunday drive.\r\n\r\nThe Mini Cooper heads north towards Sainte-Agathe and we circle the beautiful Lac des Sables. I really love driving around and admiring the landscape. The leaves are turning yellow to contrast with the bright green of the gigantic fir trees. Mother Nature marvels and amazes me with all her beauty. I stop at 7 Principale Street to visit the enchanting \u201cCouleur caf\u00e9 signature\u201d coffee shop. I love this store with its welcoming large tables, comfortable chairs, beautiful large lightbulbs, suspended plants, delicious treats and its out-of-this-world coffees.\r\n\r\n11:45 a.m.\r\nThe weather is suddenly so nice that I decide to go even further north and drive towards the charming village of Mont-Tremblant. That is where \u201cCarpe diem,\u201d a precious independent bookstore, is located. It is a little hidden treasure, isolated from the main road, and you have to know where to find it in order to get there. I love the impressive variety of magazines they carry, literary essays, poetry books and serious novels. The voice in my head always tells me that I don\u2019t need a single more book or magazine each time I find myself in such a place. But I never listen! I can\u2019t resist well-written books, so I find myself inquiring about Julia Kerninon\u2019s latest novel and \u2013 hurray! \u2013 it\u2019s arriving at the end of October. She\u2019s my favourite author, along with Icelandic writer Au\u00f0ur Ava \u00d3lafsd\u00f3ttir.\r\n\r\n1:50 p.m.\r\nI hit the road in the opposite direction, with two magazines, a few books and a small craving. I never eat before 1 p.m., but at this hour, my stomach starts to grumble. A tasty spinach quiche awaits at home.\r\n\r\nDid you know that this old queen of breakfast has never learned to eat a morning meal? I\u2019m telling you! Although I launched a delicious breakfast restaurant concept 36 years ago, I was always in the kitchen, concocting delicious delights for our hungry clientele. It was our unwritten rule. First, we had to feed all our clients, and then the employees, my kids and I, would eat around 1:30 p.m. It became a habit that has stuck for the entire family.\r\n\r\nI eat after 1 p.m. I nap for a short while and then I read for a few hours to improve my writing. At 6 o\u2019clock sharp, I turn on the talking monster to catch the global news and then I turn it right back off. I write for a few hours and have a dinner consisting of fish or seafood around 8 p.m., or I opt for a light snack such as a smoothie, a plate of fruit, nuts, dates and my precious energy balls. Afterwards, as I lay comfortably in my pajamas on the couch, I fall asleep in Morpheus\u2019 arms, a book resting on my nose.\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764"},"yoast_head":"\n