Did it again...

I am a gypsy of sorts, or so says my husband, and I guess after all these years of putting up with me, he should know. I love change – that must be why I have moved 13 times since I left home to live with Keith, and the scary part is that I have changed jobs as many times – my resumé is so long that I have cut off the last 15 years of my working career out of it altogether. I seem to have trouble settling down to the perfect home or the perfect job. There are constants in my life – after all, I still live with my husband and both my grown sons, and still enjoy the precious friendships I have made throughout my childhood and as a young adult. But I am a gypsy, I admit it.

Last week, I started a new job (yes – job no. 13). I left my job at the publisher as chief accountant because of what I consider a terrible injustice towards my former boss by the CEO of the company (the father of my ex-boss) I won’t go into detail here on this public blog, but let’s just say that I could not work for someone who treats his own son the way he was treated – and I wasn’t the only one who left – five others handed in their resignations at the same time as I did. I wasn’t too concerned about finding another job – after all, I have always been able to find something quickly enough. I put my CV up on Monster and waited for a few days until I got my first call for an interview. It was a Placement Agency and they were looking for someone with my varied profile for their ever so picky client. I say picky, because I have since found out that my new employers had been looking and interviewing and rejecting candidates for the last 2 years! I just happened to fit the bill. The position is Business Manager – and it involves supervising the accounting (working closely with the accountant there, supervising the human resources, research & development, subsidies, and providing important analysis and feedback to the administrators of the company. This company is a French company – and the president resides in France, so I have yet to meet him.

Their product? Ducks. Yup, ducks, ducks to eat – foie gras, duck à l’orange, roast duck, duck legs, duck breast – Ducks. Like Keith says, I am now the “quack lady” (that's why I fit the bill ***groan***). The name of my new employers is Élevage Périgord, and they are situated in St-Louis de Gonzague. What? You don’t know where it is? Don’t worry, no one else does…. It’s just south of Valleyfield in Quebec’s pantry area – nothing but farms as far as the eye can see. I tried to post a map but haven't succeeded yet - I'll try again later.

This company imports ducks from France, the male ducks are “canards de Barbarie” and the femaile ducks are “canards de Pekin”. These too species are raised out here and coupled to create hybrid duck called a “mulard”. Like the mule, these hybrid ducks are sterile, and are raised for the one and only purpose of ending up on your plate. I know – sounds awful, but hey – if you eat chicken, pork, or beef – guess what – they come from places like this, that raise the animals for the purpose of ending in your hands wedged in between two pieces of a sesame seed bun. Duck is a little less common – not found at your local greasy spoon, but very popular at fancy restaurants and in gourmet food stores. My new employers export their products all over the world – although the mother company (which I refer to as the “mother ship”) produces 20 times more than we do – they eat a lot of duck in Europe. So, I am learning everything I never knew or cared to know about ducks and the entire process from egg to paté de foie gras. I have visited the farms where the ducks are raised and was pleasantly surprised to see them in large heated and well ventilated barns wandering freely . I witnessed little ducklings coming out of their shells at the hatchery where hundreds of eggs are incubated. It’s a never ending wheel – ducks are born, and on the same day, ducks are (how do I put this in a politically correct way…) well, hum, terminated – and the cycle continues. I am not a vegan, I have nothing to say about this cycle, but I can tell you that these ducks are not mistreated (unless you mean terminated, and then well, yes, they are done for, aren’t they, – but so yummy!)

OK – that’s enough for starters ----I’ll continue later – stay tuned!