Ayant pass\u00e9 la journ\u00e9e \u00e0 peaufiner un po\u00e8me d\u2019amour, j\u2019ai faim, mais rien ne me tente. M\u00eame pas l\u2019asiatique que je pr\u00e9f\u00e8re toujours lorsque j\u2019ai le vague \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e2me. J\u2019ai besoin de savon \u00e0 vaisselle, de petits fruits pour ma sant\u00e9, d\u2019une papaye bien m\u00fbre, de quelques tranches de jambon et, j\u2019en r\u00eave tellement, d\u2019une belle c\u00f4telette sur laquelle m\u2019\u00e9pancher. Vieillir en solo est un v\u00e9ritable coupe-faim.<\/p>\n
J\u2019ai toujours \u00e9t\u00e9 seule, mais jadis j\u2019avais ma merveilleuse entreprise \u00e0 titre de compagnon. Nous apprenions ensemble, travaillions ensemble, d\u00e9veloppions de nouveaux march\u00e9s ensemble et je jubilais. Sautant d\u2019un rayon de soleil \u00e0 l\u2019autre, j\u2019\u00e9tais au paradis.<\/p>\n
J\u2019ai besoin de cr\u00e8me \u00e0 caf\u00e9. J\u2019en bois tellement! Chaque fois que je m\u2019ennuie, je pitonne sur la Keurig. Et vlan! Le chaud liquide ravigote mon esprit. Jamais de sucre dans mon caf\u00e9, si peu d\u2019hommes dans mes pens\u00e9es.<\/p>\n
Les comptoirs de fruits me r\u00e9jouissent. Moi qui, autrefois, me for\u00e7ais \u00e0 en manger, aujourd\u2019hui je les savoure, surtout comme repas du soir. Je me compose de belles assiettes color\u00e9es auxquelles j\u2019ajoute une portion de yogourt et de granola \u00ab\u00a0keto\u00a0\u00bb. En \u00e9t\u00e9, bien souvent, je garnis le tout de quelques fleurs sauvages. C\u2019est tellement beau et \u00e7a r\u00e9chauffe mon petit c\u0153ur esseul\u00e9.<\/p>\n
D\u00e9laissant la p\u00e2lotte pulpe des ananas en bocaux de plastique, mon panier avance vers une grande table de desserts. Je zieute les renvers\u00e9s aux framboises, les g\u00e2teaux aux chocolat, les poudings ch\u00f4meur et les nouvelles grosses galettes aux dattes de la fameuse Madame Labriski. Tout a l\u2019air tellement bon! Merci, mais non merci. Je n\u2019avale plus ces coupe-chagrins. J\u2019affronte ma r\u00e9alit\u00e9 de vieillotte laiss\u00e9e pour compte.<\/p>\n
Je traverse rapidement l\u2019all\u00e9e des th\u00e9s et des caf\u00e9s de toutes sortes. Je n\u2019ai pas un fin palais pour les liquides. Pourtant, derni\u00e8rement, une tr\u00e8s bonne amie, entrepreneure et cr\u00e9atrice de m\u00e9langes d\u2019\u00e9pices, m\u2019a donn\u00e9 une bouteille de rhum nomm\u00e9 \u00ab\u00a0L\u2019Assembl\u00e9e\u00a0\u00bb. Un rare \u00e9lixir aromatis\u00e9 avec les \u00e9pices de ma copine Catherine de \u00ab\u00a0LA\u00a0PINC\u00c9E\u00a0\u00bb. J\u2019ai beaucoup aim\u00e9! Bien s\u00fbr, pas tous les soirs, mais lorsque le cafard regarde un film avec moi, j\u2019en bois une lamp\u00e9e. Pour un moment, \u00e7a ressuscite mes espoirs endormis.<\/p>\n
Dans l\u2019all\u00e9e des surgel\u00e9s, je sasse et ressasse de vieilles id\u00e9es. O\u00f9 est donc la meilleure cr\u00e8me glac\u00e9e? L\u2019enfance dor\u00e9e que l\u2019on m\u2019a vol\u00e9e? Tous mes mots se d\u00e9frisent juste \u00e0 y penser. Reverrai-je la Baie-des-Chaleurs avec ses falaises rouge feu, son vieux quai renfonc\u00e9 entour\u00e9 d\u2019anguilles aux petites dents coupantes? J\u2019y suis all\u00e9e il y a deux ans et j\u2019ai eu peur d\u2019entrer dans l\u2019eau glac\u00e9e.<\/p>\n
Devant les pizzas surgel\u00e9es, mes doigts de pieds g\u00e8lent. J\u2019ouvre une grande porte et la referme aussit\u00f4t. M\u00eame si je vois sur les bo\u00eetes les jolies bouilles des plus beaux mecs de par ici, j\u2019ai envie de dire que toutes les bonnes pizz\u00e9rias sont d\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9es. Je me souviens du temps o\u00f9 j\u2019aimais tellement les p\u00e2tes et les pizzas.<\/p>\n
O\u00f9 diable sont les petits pois verts surgel\u00e9s? Ma petite-fille viendra demain et je vais lui cuisiner son plat favori\u00a0: des \u00ab\u00a0arakas\u00a0\u00bb\u00a0(des petits pois). Dans une casserole, faire sauter des petits cubes de veau avec des oignons coup\u00e9s fins et des tomates broy\u00e9es. Lorsque la viande est tendre, ajouter les petits pois, du sel, du poivre et de l\u2019aneth frais (si possible) en abondance. Laisser mijoter tout doucement jusqu\u2019\u00e0 ce que la faim ouvre le couvercle. Ai-je encore du pain \u00e0 la maison? Peut-\u00eatre une baguette Premi\u00e8re Moisson?<\/p>\n
Au comptoir des poissons, l\u2019homme grisonnant me sourit. Je l\u2019aime tellement, mais son anneau de mariage brille encore \u00e0 travers les \u00e9cailles de poissons. D\u00e9cid\u00e9ment, tous les bons hommes ont \u00e9t\u00e9 harponn\u00e9s. Qu\u2019ai-je donc fait au Bon Dieu pour m\u00e9riter cette infortune? Ouache! J\u2019ai soudainement envie de brailler\u00a0: le comptoir de morue est vide!
\n\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Je vous promets, j\u2019en aurai demain!\u00a0\u00bb, dit le poissonnier s\u00e9rieusement d\u00e9sol\u00e9.<\/p>\n
C\u2019est ce soir que je veux \u00eatre consol\u00e9e. Quelques tranches de jambon dans une demi-baguette pourraient-elles me calmer? Tout est vague dans ma t\u00eate, tout est vide dans mon c\u0153ur. Vais-je un jour arr\u00eater de clamer mon manque d\u2019amour? Les sages disent que \u00ab\u00a0Ce sur quoi l\u2019on insiste se manifeste\u00a0\u00bb. Si je change mon fusil d\u2019\u00e9paule, les hommes seront-ils tous \u00e0 mes pieds? Peut-\u00eatre!<\/p>\n
Accroch\u00e9e au panier, je tra\u00eene de la patte. Dans l\u2019all\u00e9e des spaghettis, des linguinis, des rigatonis, tout m\u2019indiff\u00e8re; m\u00eame mes anciens h\u00e9ros, les beaux Stefano et Ricardo. \u00c0 droite, les sauces blanches, \u00e0 gauche les rouges. Le ciel tout blanc, l\u2019enfer tout rouge. Dans celle des grignotines et des colas, un vieillard bedonnant t\u00e2tonne les gros sacs de croustilles. Il me sourit et je lui r\u00e9ponds\u00a0:
\n\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0Oui, oui! Les meilleurs sont les chips Kettle au sel marin.\u00a0\u00bb
\n\u2014\u00a0\u00ab\u00a0C\u2019est la m\u00e9moire qui d\u00e9gringole en premier, dit le vieux au sourire \u00e9dent\u00e9. Ma t\u00eate oublie jusqu\u2019au nom des biscuits pr\u00e9f\u00e9r\u00e9s de ma ch\u00e8re Cl\u00e9mence.\u00a0\u00bb<\/p>\n
J\u2019\u00e9vite l\u2019all\u00e9e des cornichons, des olives et des l\u00e9gumes marin\u00e9s. Peut-\u00eatre un pot de betteraves pour accompagner mes fameux p\u00e2t\u00e9s au saumon que je veux faire incessamment? Le saumon en conserve m\u2019attend dans l\u2019armoire depuis assez longtemps. Je constate que je suis d\u00e9finitivement moins vaillante qu\u2019avant. Serait-ce l\u2019\u00e2ge qui me contrarie? La fain\u00e9antise qui me courtise? Ma sauce aux \u0153ufs est la meilleure au monde. Juste \u00e0 y penser, j\u2019ai faim!<\/p>\n
Arriv\u00e9e devant le r\u00e9chaud \u00e0 poulets BBQ, j\u2019imagine ma derni\u00e8re heure\u00a0: mon corps parfum\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9pices piquantes, ma poitrine un tantinet croustillante, mes cuisses bien cuites, attach\u00e9es ensemble. On m\u2019enrubanne de papier glac\u00e9 et on me garde au chaud. Les affam\u00e9s passent et repassent devant le comptoir br\u00fblant et tout comme dans mon ancienne vie, j\u2019ai encore l\u2019impression qu\u2019ils m\u2019ignorent.<\/p>\n
On finit tous par passer \u00e0 la caisse et je crois fermement que c\u2019est l\u2019addition de tous nos bons coups qui co\u00fbtera le moins cher. Quant au Rom\u00e9o de mon c\u0153ur, peut-\u00eatre devrais-je agrandir mon territoire de chasse? Sortir du village et arpenter les grandes surfaces de fringues au rabais.<\/p>\n
Je badine, je rigole, ces mots enivr\u00e9s de chagrin
\nbayent aux corneilles juste pour \u00e9tirer le temps.
\nQui donc s\u2019occupera de moi de l\u2019autre c\u00f4t\u00e9?
\nQuelquefois, j\u2019ai peur et je pleure dans les all\u00e9es.
\nSi peur que mes doigts ne peuvent plus vous parler!<\/p>\n
Cora
\n\u2764<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ayant pass\u00e9 la journ\u00e9e \u00e0 peaufiner un po\u00e8me d\u2019amour, j\u2019ai faim, mais […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":414,"featured_media":33927,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[32],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-33923","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-lettre-mme-cora"],"acf":{"img_en":"","contenu_en":"I\u2019ve spent the day penning a love poem. I\u2019m hungry, but nothing tempts me. Not even the Asian restaurant I always love to go to when feeling gloomy. I need dishwashing soap, healthy berries, a ripe papaya, a few slices of ham and, I can\u2019t stop dreaming about it, a nice solid rib to hang my heart on. Aging alone is a very effective appetite suppressant.\r\n\r\nIt feels like I have always been alone, but I had my wonderful business as a partner. We learned together, worked together, developed new markets together, and I was ecstatic. Jumping from one ray of sunshine to the next, I was in paradise.\r\n\r\nI need cream for my coffee. I drink so much of it! Every time I\u2019m bored, I press the button on the Keurig. The hot liquid quickly refuels my mind. There is never any sugar in my coffee, and almost never any man on my mind.\r\n\r\nThe grocer\u2019s fruit displays make me happy. I used to force myself to eat fruit, but today, I relish it, especially when I make a dinner out of it. I create beautiful colourful plates to which I add a serving of yogurt and keto granola. In the summertime, I often add a few edible flowers. It looks so pretty and it cheers my lonely heart.\r\n\r\nI leave the pale pineapple pulp in the plastic jars behind me and move my cart towards a large table covered with desserts. My eyes devour the raspberry upside-down cakes, the chocolate ganaches, the pouding ch\u00f4meur and the big new date cookies by Madame\u00a0Labriski. Everything looks so delicious! Thanks, but no thanks. I no longer bury my sorrow in such sweets. I stoically embrace my reality as an obsolete old person.\r\n\r\nI quickly make my way through the tea and coffee aisle. I don\u2019t have a sophisticated palate for liquids. However, a very good friend of mine, an entrepreneur and creator of spice blends, recently gave me a bottle of rum called \u201cL\u2019Assembl\u00e9e.\u201d It\u2019s a fine elixir flavoured with a blend of spices from my friend Catherine\u2019s line of \u201cLA\u00a0PINC\u00c9E\u201d spices. I love it! I don\u2019t drink it every night of course, but when my old friend the blues sits down to watch a movie with me, I enjoy a few sips. For a moment, it revives my dormant hopes.\r\n\r\nIn the frozen food section, I sift through old ideas again and again. Where has the best ice cream gone to? And the golden youth that was stolen away from me? All my words snap straight just thinking about it. Will I see the Baie-des-Chaleurs again, with its fire-red cliffs, its old sunken dock surrounded by eels with tiny sharp teeth? I went two years ago and was afraid of going into the freezing water.\r\n\r\nIn front of the frozen pizzas, my toes freeze. I open a large freezer door and then immediately close it. Even with boxes proudly featuring the handsome faces of celebrity Quebec chefs, I\u2019m still tempted to say that all the good pizzerias are dead. I remember a time when I was crazy about pasta and pizza!\r\n\r\nWhere on earth are the frozen green peas? My granddaughter is coming over for dinner tomorrow night and I\u2019m preparing her favourite meal, arakas (a Greek dish made with peas). In a saucepan, saut\u00e9 small veal cubes with finely minced onions and crushed tomatoes. When the meat is tender, add small green peas, salt, pepper and loads of fresh (if available) dill. Let simmer on low heat until hunger orders the lid to be removed. Do I still have bread at home? Maybe a baguette from Premi\u00e8re Moisson?\r\n\r\nAt the fish counter, the grey-haired man smiles at me. I like him so much, but his shiny wedding ring can still be seen under the fish scales. Seems to me like all the good men have already been harpooned. What have I done to deserve this misfortune? Seriously. I suddenly feel like I\u2019m going to bawl: the cod counter is empty!\r\n\u2014 \u201cI promise you, I will have some tomorrow!\u201d the fishmonger tells me, an apologetic look on his face.\r\n\r\nI want to be consoled this evening. A few slices of ham in half a baguette could perhaps do the trick? Everything is blurry in my mind; all is empty in my heart. Will I ever stop proclaiming my lack of love? Wise men say that \u201cwhat you focus on becomes your reality.\u201d If I change my tune, will all the men be at my feet? It might happen!\r\n\r\nHanging onto my cart, I move slowly. In the spaghetti, linguine and rigatoni aisle, nothing strikes me as interesting; not even my old heroes, the handsome Stefano and Ricardo. To my right, the white sauces, to my left, the red ones. The sky is all white and hell all red. In the potato chips and soft drink aisle, a paunchy old man pats the big bags of chips. He looks over and smiles, and I respond:\r\n\u2014 \u201cYes, yes! The Kettle sea salt potato chips are the best!\u201d\r\n\u2014 \u201cIt\u2019s memory that goes first,\u201d says the elderly man with a gap-toothed smile. \u201cMy mind even forgets the name of my wife\u2019s favourite cookies.\u201d\r\n\r\nI skip the aisle with the pickles, olives and marinated veggies. Maybe I should grab a jar of beets as a side for my famous salmon pies I intend to make soon? The cans of salmon have been waiting for me in the pantry long enough. I realize that I\u2019m definitely not as undaunted in the kitchen as I used to be. Is age throwing me off? Or is laziness flirting with me? My egg sauce is the best in the world. I\u2019m hungry just thinking about it!\r\n\r\nI stand in front of the BBQ chicken warmer, imagining my last hour: my body seasoned with hot spices, my breast a touch crispy, my thighs well-cooked and trussed together. I\u2019m wrapped in aluminum foil and kept warm. Hungry mouths pass back and forth in front of the hot counter and, just like in my youth, I feel invisible.\r\n\r\nWe all end up at the check-out eventually, and I firmly believe that the bill with all our good deeds will turn out to be the least expensive one. And about my heart\u2019s Romeo, maybe I should widen my hunting ground? I\u2019ll drive out of town and browse the big box stores selling discounted clothing.\r\n\r\nI dillydally and have fun.\r\nThese words drunk with sorrow\r\nstretch out the hours with daydreams.\r\nWho will take care of me on the other side?\r\nSometimes I feel afraid and cry in the aisles.\r\nSo scared that my fingers can no longer speak to you!\r\n\r\nCora\r\n\u2764"},"yoast_head":"\n