A Necklace of Memorable Days
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"Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self. To be damned is for one's ordinary everyday mode of consciousness to be unremitting agonising preoccupation with self."
Iris Murdoch, The Nice and The Good
What sort of diary should I like mine to be? Something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. I should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. I should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalesced, as such deposits so mysteriously do, into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life, and yet steady, tranquil compounds with the aloofness of a work of art. The main requisite, I think, on reading my old volumes, is not to play the part of a censor, but to write as the mood comes or of anything whatever; since I was curious to find how I went for things put in haphazard, and found the significance to lie where I never saw it at the time.
" She strung the afternoon on the necklace of memorable days, which was not too long for her to be able to recall this one or that one; this view, that city; to finger it, to feel it, to savour, sighing, the quality that made it unique."
Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being
"Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions."
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We photographed quite a lot of trash that has been thrown over the
top of the cliff ( garbage bags filled with roofing materials) and rubble pushed over with the snow during last winter's snow-dumping operations.
I was impressed that P McQ. was brave enough to open up one of these garbage bags to see what was inside!
This is the remnants of a paved road running between Pullman and
Saint Jacques. It's very wet at the bottom, causing me to speculate
that this might be the run off from the Petite Saint Pierre river.
Edit: One of my knowledgeable companion tells me that "The water course remnant is probably a tributary of the St. Pierre R., not Little St. Pierre. R. which ultimately joined the former".
There is still plenty of snow in these piles at the western end of
the Turcot Yards...
This is where we re-emerged on rue Saint Jacques!
I went for a walk along the Falaise Saint Jacques yesterday with a
small group of folks from the Green Coalition. We met at Terry Fox
Park (1) on rue Saint Jacques which runs along the top of the
escarpement, stopped at the entrance ramp to the highway at the
corner of Decarie (2) to take some photographs, walked into the
Turcot yards through the eastern gates on Pullman (3) which are close
to the trail head. On the map, you can see the green stripe of the
Falaise with the darker line of the trail about a third of the way up
the slope. We came back up to rue Saint Jacques on the remains of a
paved road (4), a couple of blocks east of Cavendish. I'll be
blogging photographs of these four locations.
I went to a public meeting last evening where I learned that it is
unlikely that any housing will be built on the site where Sainte
Elizabeth du Portugal church once stood. In fact, the housing that
you see here (the back of houses facing onto rue Desnoyers) and the
houses on adjacent rue Cazelais are threatened with demolition if the
Ministry of Transport of Quebec proceeds with its plan to drop the
elevated highway that runs above the neighbourhood down to ground level.
For links to information about the MTQ project, go here
The demolition of a small building in western N.D.G. revealed this
painted advertising for Turret Cigarettes, circa 1930s I believe.
The demolition of Sainte Elizabeth du Portugal Church continues...