I thought I would post these as a challenge to The Mikestand. Can you find this building?
Showing posts with label photographs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photographs. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
No Trespassing
This weekend, I was out for a walk and managed to take a few pictures of a building that is quite stately, but in need of some TLC.
I thought I would post these as a challenge to The Mikestand. Can you find this building?
I thought I would post these as a challenge to The Mikestand. Can you find this building?
Monday, November 05, 2007
Photo-stalking - the lazy woman's version
It seems that Mike has pulled off his riding glove and hassmacked me with it. Dueling cameras on the waterfront at dawn!!!
I'm feeling lazy tonight, so I searched iPhoto and found that, while I did not have the exact photos Mr. Mikestand was looking for, I have some photos that might be considered roughly equivalent:
Mike was riding on this:
When he took a photo of this:
And while this:
Is not the Clock at Citadel Hill - it is a building atop a fort (i.e. Cabot Tower on Signal Hill).
Ok, ok... I'll get around to it.
In the meantime... hey, isn't that Ron Sexsmith?
I'm feeling lazy tonight, so I searched iPhoto and found that, while I did not have the exact photos Mr. Mikestand was looking for, I have some photos that might be considered roughly equivalent:
Mike was riding on this:
When he took a photo of this:
And while this:
Is not the Clock at Citadel Hill - it is a building atop a fort (i.e. Cabot Tower on Signal Hill).
Ok, ok... I'll get around to it.
In the meantime... hey, isn't that Ron Sexsmith?
Monday, May 22, 2006
The Winged Avenger
Norma was talking about her obsession with hummingbirds and it brought to mind two things:
#1. My high school biology teacher, Mr. F. He was a big bear of a man with a dark hair and a wooly beard. In the tradition of all biology teachers he was always just a little unkempt in a charming way. He was a great teacher and always told us these fantastical stories, that we weren't sure whether to believe or not. Because of him, I graduated from university with a Biology degree.
It is also because of him that I will never forget:
a.) The classification of living things - Kingdom, Phyllum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species - he had us say them as fast as we could and held contests
b.) Dinoflagellates
c.) Hummingbirds - until I met Mr. F., I had never heard a grown man speak with such amazement and zeal about hummingbirds. He and his family had hummingbird feeders in their back yard. If you could get him on the topic of hummingbirds you would be guaranteed at least 15 minutes of entertainment as he described their territorial turf wars, their unbelievable ability to hang in mid-air... and his brief moment of eye-to-eye contact with one as he mistakenly stepped into its path. He would mimic the noise of them zipping around his back yard with such earnest joy that you couldn't help but get wrapped up in his stories. The funny thing? An entire class of 17-year-olds sat still and listened when he told us that story.
#2. The summer we were host to what looked like a tiny baby hummingbird at our cottage.
The family was all gathered in the main room of the cottage at the lake. Some were playing cards, others were sitting on the sofas, talking and telling stories. I don't remember why we were all inside, perhaps it had been raining? or it was getting cool as it was early evening? I'm not sure, but suddenly we all looked out and saw a tiny humming bird on the flowers outside.
I grabbed the camera and headed for the door. My mother said, "You'll never get a photo, they're too fast."
I think I said that I'd at least try. Ten minutes of sitting quietly on the deck and these were the results:
He seemed tired, and when he stopped to rest, we realized that he must have been just a baby:
Here he is, resting in a tree. I decided to call him the "Winged Avenger" when this photo came back from the developers:
#1. My high school biology teacher, Mr. F. He was a big bear of a man with a dark hair and a wooly beard. In the tradition of all biology teachers he was always just a little unkempt in a charming way. He was a great teacher and always told us these fantastical stories, that we weren't sure whether to believe or not. Because of him, I graduated from university with a Biology degree.
It is also because of him that I will never forget:
a.) The classification of living things - Kingdom, Phyllum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species - he had us say them as fast as we could and held contests
b.) Dinoflagellates
c.) Hummingbirds - until I met Mr. F., I had never heard a grown man speak with such amazement and zeal about hummingbirds. He and his family had hummingbird feeders in their back yard. If you could get him on the topic of hummingbirds you would be guaranteed at least 15 minutes of entertainment as he described their territorial turf wars, their unbelievable ability to hang in mid-air... and his brief moment of eye-to-eye contact with one as he mistakenly stepped into its path. He would mimic the noise of them zipping around his back yard with such earnest joy that you couldn't help but get wrapped up in his stories. The funny thing? An entire class of 17-year-olds sat still and listened when he told us that story.
#2. The summer we were host to what looked like a tiny baby hummingbird at our cottage.
The family was all gathered in the main room of the cottage at the lake. Some were playing cards, others were sitting on the sofas, talking and telling stories. I don't remember why we were all inside, perhaps it had been raining? or it was getting cool as it was early evening? I'm not sure, but suddenly we all looked out and saw a tiny humming bird on the flowers outside.
I grabbed the camera and headed for the door. My mother said, "You'll never get a photo, they're too fast."
I think I said that I'd at least try. Ten minutes of sitting quietly on the deck and these were the results:
He seemed tired, and when he stopped to rest, we realized that he must have been just a baby:
Here he is, resting in a tree. I decided to call him the "Winged Avenger" when this photo came back from the developers:
Enjoy!
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Sunday morning in my neighbourhood.
I'm just photo crazed today. I went for a walk this morning and took some photos in my neighbourhood. I've got about 50 minutes before I have to leave for work (I KNOW, working on a Sunday. Ew.).
As I walked around my neighbourhood this morning, I thought about all of you who live in big cities (compared to my home town, Halifax and the rest of HRM is a big city, but it's not THAT big - I still run into people I know on the street). I'm an incredibly fortunate person to be able to enjoy such a nice neighbourhood. But please, feel free to come back in February when I'm bitching about the amount of snow I have to shovel, and remind me about this post, K?
I took this photo from the top of the Dartmouth Commons, a lovely park, just about 500 yards from my front door. This is the Halifax waterfront. The photo quality isn't the best (hello, 2.0megapixels, shockin' I tell ya, it's shockin'), but it's pretty. Moe lives over there... somewhere.
This is a little flower bed at the edge of the Dartmouth Commons. The flowers were catching the sunlight this morning. It reminds me of The Secret Garden (one of my all time favorite books).
These are my neighbour's grapes.
They grow on the fence at the back of my yard. My dog (who is now in doggy heaven) used to jump up on the stone wall at the back of our yard and eat these grapes when they fell off the vines. He would come inside smelling like fermented grapes.
This is where Andrew and I went for "breakfast" yesterday.
Ang? If you still lived here, this is where we would go instead of that expensive place we used to visit. It's Starr's Bakery and Cafe on Portland street in Dartmouth. They make great lattes and sticky buns. YUM! They would definitely love Minou in there.
And Finally, this is for Cassie
It isn't so much that the door is orange, but that the entire front of the building is orange with those great round windows. I cut off a "Sun" on the sign. It's actually the Sun Sun Cafe.
That's all. Gotta run. Have a great day everyone.
As I walked around my neighbourhood this morning, I thought about all of you who live in big cities (compared to my home town, Halifax and the rest of HRM is a big city, but it's not THAT big - I still run into people I know on the street). I'm an incredibly fortunate person to be able to enjoy such a nice neighbourhood. But please, feel free to come back in February when I'm bitching about the amount of snow I have to shovel, and remind me about this post, K?
I took this photo from the top of the Dartmouth Commons, a lovely park, just about 500 yards from my front door. This is the Halifax waterfront. The photo quality isn't the best (hello, 2.0megapixels, shockin' I tell ya, it's shockin'), but it's pretty. Moe lives over there... somewhere.
This is a little flower bed at the edge of the Dartmouth Commons. The flowers were catching the sunlight this morning. It reminds me of The Secret Garden (one of my all time favorite books).
These are my neighbour's grapes.
They grow on the fence at the back of my yard. My dog (who is now in doggy heaven) used to jump up on the stone wall at the back of our yard and eat these grapes when they fell off the vines. He would come inside smelling like fermented grapes.
This is where Andrew and I went for "breakfast" yesterday.
Ang? If you still lived here, this is where we would go instead of that expensive place we used to visit. It's Starr's Bakery and Cafe on Portland street in Dartmouth. They make great lattes and sticky buns. YUM! They would definitely love Minou in there.
And Finally, this is for Cassie
It isn't so much that the door is orange, but that the entire front of the building is orange with those great round windows. I cut off a "Sun" on the sign. It's actually the Sun Sun Cafe.
That's all. Gotta run. Have a great day everyone.
Friday, August 12, 2005
Balls on a Teddy Bear
I'm trying to refrain from cursing a blue streak right now. Really, really friggin' hard.
Tonight is Andrew's night off. It is his only night off this weekend. It is our only night since MONDAY that we have spent together. When he got home, I was in the kitchen, playing Mrs. Susie Homemaker. I had my apron on and I was kneading bread. He caught the bug and decided to do the thorough vacuuming that the floors so desperately needed. Our intention was to tidy up, get some groceries, and then maybe rent a movie or go out for Cows. At least, that was the nice scenario I had romanticized in my head while I spun the dough and pushed it on the counter. Ahhhh...
Now? Now Andrew is in the basement with our Mr. Washie, hereafter known as Mr. Kenmore. Andrew asked me to leave him alone with Mr. Kenmore because, unlike "Big Stephanie", I have a tendency to get violent when my large appliances give me lip.
(Did everyone's mom say this to them? My mom would ask me to do something and if she sensed I was going to talk back she would say, "And don't give me any lip").
Oh, wait a second... there's a development with Mr. Kenmore...
I'm back! I am sooooooo lucky to have a husband who can fix stuff. (He once fixed a cd-player with a rubber band, which seems brilliant to me, but may make sense to other people.) He's figured out Mr. Kenmore's problem. Until we can get a new thingy-thongy, we'll have to hold down the little latch with a screwdriver to get Mr. Kenmore to spin.
OK, THAT, I can handle. A broken Mr. Kenmore, I cannot.
Here are a few more photos to liven up this dull place!
I took this photo the morning after the ice storm in 1998. This poor little tree was buckled right over. Those of you who lived through that ice storm will probably remember the sounds it made. First there was the sound it made as it came down and pelted our house and windows. It popped against the roof my parents' sunroom. Then there was the sound of trees limbs creaking and then snapping as they broke under the weight ot the ice. The days following the storm, when some of the ice began to melt, there was the sound of it falling off the trees and then skidding on the frozen ground. This was such a strange/horrible time in my life (for reasons I can't really go into), and the ice storm holds a lot of significance for me. Angela was living in Montreal during the ice storm and struggled to work over slippery streets, climbing over downed trees, and shivering through the power outage at her apartment.
This is another one from the ice storm. In my parents back yard the umbrella type clothes line had been left up and this was the result. Pretty cool, eh? No pun intended.
And since we need a photo that shows that Canadian ice can be friendly:
This was taken on the Saint John River in Woodstock, NB, around New Years about 6 and a half years ago. I don't think this wasn't my first time skating on the river, but it was the first time I played hockey on it. This motley looking crew is:
Standing (from left to right): Me,("Breakaway girl who catches figure skate pick in ice and flies through the air before landing on the ice and skidding through the boots that were the goal posts"), my uncle's friend, Wayne, ("Just give'er!"), Andrew ("Ballet on ice"), my cousin, Jon ( "Does my hat look like a zucchini or what?").
Kneeling (from left to right): My uncle, Don ( "I've got a metal plate in my shoulder from taking out bigger boys than you!") and my cousin, Andy ("The Wall" or "He's got so many clothes on, we can't get the puck past him").
taking the photo: My cousin, Jon's, now wife, Kelly ("I've never played hockey with the guys before either - we've got to do this again") - she's the one who is pregnant with twins now. I think her hockey playing days are over.
Ok, Mr. Kenmore is fixed and I've got a hot date upstairs...
Tonight is Andrew's night off. It is his only night off this weekend. It is our only night since MONDAY that we have spent together. When he got home, I was in the kitchen, playing Mrs. Susie Homemaker. I had my apron on and I was kneading bread. He caught the bug and decided to do the thorough vacuuming that the floors so desperately needed. Our intention was to tidy up, get some groceries, and then maybe rent a movie or go out for Cows. At least, that was the nice scenario I had romanticized in my head while I spun the dough and pushed it on the counter. Ahhhh...
Now? Now Andrew is in the basement with our Mr. Washie, hereafter known as Mr. Kenmore. Andrew asked me to leave him alone with Mr. Kenmore because, unlike "Big Stephanie", I have a tendency to get violent when my large appliances give me lip.
(Did everyone's mom say this to them? My mom would ask me to do something and if she sensed I was going to talk back she would say, "And don't give me any lip").
Oh, wait a second... there's a development with Mr. Kenmore...
I'm back! I am sooooooo lucky to have a husband who can fix stuff. (He once fixed a cd-player with a rubber band, which seems brilliant to me, but may make sense to other people.) He's figured out Mr. Kenmore's problem. Until we can get a new thingy-thongy, we'll have to hold down the little latch with a screwdriver to get Mr. Kenmore to spin.
OK, THAT, I can handle. A broken Mr. Kenmore, I cannot.
Here are a few more photos to liven up this dull place!
I took this photo the morning after the ice storm in 1998. This poor little tree was buckled right over. Those of you who lived through that ice storm will probably remember the sounds it made. First there was the sound it made as it came down and pelted our house and windows. It popped against the roof my parents' sunroom. Then there was the sound of trees limbs creaking and then snapping as they broke under the weight ot the ice. The days following the storm, when some of the ice began to melt, there was the sound of it falling off the trees and then skidding on the frozen ground. This was such a strange/horrible time in my life (for reasons I can't really go into), and the ice storm holds a lot of significance for me. Angela was living in Montreal during the ice storm and struggled to work over slippery streets, climbing over downed trees, and shivering through the power outage at her apartment.
This is another one from the ice storm. In my parents back yard the umbrella type clothes line had been left up and this was the result. Pretty cool, eh? No pun intended.
And since we need a photo that shows that Canadian ice can be friendly:
This was taken on the Saint John River in Woodstock, NB, around New Years about 6 and a half years ago. I don't think this wasn't my first time skating on the river, but it was the first time I played hockey on it. This motley looking crew is:
Standing (from left to right): Me,("Breakaway girl who catches figure skate pick in ice and flies through the air before landing on the ice and skidding through the boots that were the goal posts"), my uncle's friend, Wayne, ("Just give'er!"), Andrew ("Ballet on ice"), my cousin, Jon ( "Does my hat look like a zucchini or what?").
Kneeling (from left to right): My uncle, Don ( "I've got a metal plate in my shoulder from taking out bigger boys than you!") and my cousin, Andy ("The Wall" or "He's got so many clothes on, we can't get the puck past him").
taking the photo: My cousin, Jon's, now wife, Kelly ("I've never played hockey with the guys before either - we've got to do this again") - she's the one who is pregnant with twins now. I think her hockey playing days are over.
Ok, Mr. Kenmore is fixed and I've got a hot date upstairs...
Thursday, August 11, 2005
I have angered the gods.
I was doing fairly well, I thought. No major follies this summer. Just the usual stuff - the horsefly bite at the cottage, the "crap, the car needs to be registered" moment... but all-in-all, a pretty good summer. Yesterday, however, the following things happened:
1. Small, black ants began invading my kitchen.
I immediately grabbed the dish soap so that I could draw a line of it around where they were coming into the house. My vegan friend said that lemon dish soap deters the ants. I have grapefruit dish soap. They started crawling the walls to go around it.
So, I pulled out the broom and dustpan, swept the kitchen floor and then cleaned it with bleach. My vegan friend would sooooo not approve. This morning, I put everything containing sugar into the refrigerator.
I think they are invading b/c it has been sooooo dry here that the lawn is almost completely dead. I cannot bring myself to water the lawn (with apologies to my neighbours who have to look at it in all its withered glory) so that I can turn around and cut it. It just seems so environmentally irresponsible. Use water to hydrate something that I'm just going to have to cut with my gas powered mower (I am asking for a push mower for Christmas).
2. SnB was last night so I biked to Halifax last night (over the MacDonald Bridge - it's a great ride) and picked up the car from Andrew. When I was leaving SnB, the front, passenger side brake started squealing like it was being murdered (Andrew and I think it was the caliper). I drove through downtown Halifax with the motorized equivalent of a stuck pig. Lemme tell ya... the inside of that car alternated between the blue smoke that was spewing out of my mouth in a steady stream and the bright red light of my embarrassed, glowing face. (The situation righted itself when Andrew drove the car home later.). Loud, squealing noises make me snaky... so I was almost overjoyed at the prospect of biking home over the bridge at 10:00pm. Anything to get away from the car.
3. The washing machine stopped mid cycle, for no apparent reason. I dialed it ahead and it started again, but I don't know why it stopped. It also didn't automatically go through to the 2nd rinse like it is set to do. This is not good. I think that my Mr. Washie may be protesting in solidarity with the world renowned Mr. Washie. So I stood in the basement and told my Mr. Washie how much I loved him and how I appreciated these past 4 years we've had together and although I didn't know how he was treated before I took over his care, I promised that if he needed it, I would get him better soap.
I'm pretty sure it's all because I laughed at the Yarn Harlot's entry yesterday.
Trouble comes in threes, right? This is all of it, right?
Ok, because I have no access to digital photos for you right now (which means I can hide the number of WIPs I have), I spent some time with Mr. Scanner. I scanned in some of my favourite photos from the last few years. Favourite photos that don't include people who may or may not be wanted by the police.
I apologize if you're on dialup.
Since it is starting to rain outside (downpour, really) I'll go with a water theme:
This is the MacDonald Bridge partially under the siege of Maritime fog. That's looking across to where I live.
This is a beach on the northern side of PEI. Yes, that PEI, Prince Edward Island. Home of Lucy Maude Montgomery. I was sprawled on the beach at 9 in the morning taking this photo. I love how the wind had blown the sand out from under the rocks. It looks like an alien planet.
This photo was taken right in the heart of my hometown in New Brunswick. It looks pretty calm in this photo, but you're actually looking at a waterfall and a very old hydro-electric station. It's kinda pretty, isn't it?
This was taken on the highway somewhere between Whistler and Vancouver, BC. I can see why Angela loves it out there. We were there in 1999 for our friends' wedding. They got married in White Rock. What a beautiful place.
Speaking of our friend...
This is him, jumping into the water with Andrew. John is on the left and Andrew is on the right. This is taken just in front of John's dad's cottage. We visited John there while we were on our honeymoon. It seems lame, visiting a friend while on your honeymoon... but lemme show you the "cottage":
John's dad doesn't do anything small. I can't tell you where the cottage is, but I can tell you that we had a great time. That's me, waving from the dock. That's the same pool in the river that the boys were jumping in.
Okay, I've got more, but I'm hearing thunder, so that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this-non knitting segment...
Oh, just one more... for someone... she'll know who she is...
Sorry, it's not an orange door... yet.
1. Small, black ants began invading my kitchen.
I immediately grabbed the dish soap so that I could draw a line of it around where they were coming into the house. My vegan friend said that lemon dish soap deters the ants. I have grapefruit dish soap. They started crawling the walls to go around it.
So, I pulled out the broom and dustpan, swept the kitchen floor and then cleaned it with bleach. My vegan friend would sooooo not approve. This morning, I put everything containing sugar into the refrigerator.
I think they are invading b/c it has been sooooo dry here that the lawn is almost completely dead. I cannot bring myself to water the lawn (with apologies to my neighbours who have to look at it in all its withered glory) so that I can turn around and cut it. It just seems so environmentally irresponsible. Use water to hydrate something that I'm just going to have to cut with my gas powered mower (I am asking for a push mower for Christmas).
2. SnB was last night so I biked to Halifax last night (over the MacDonald Bridge - it's a great ride) and picked up the car from Andrew. When I was leaving SnB, the front, passenger side brake started squealing like it was being murdered (Andrew and I think it was the caliper). I drove through downtown Halifax with the motorized equivalent of a stuck pig. Lemme tell ya... the inside of that car alternated between the blue smoke that was spewing out of my mouth in a steady stream and the bright red light of my embarrassed, glowing face. (The situation righted itself when Andrew drove the car home later.). Loud, squealing noises make me snaky... so I was almost overjoyed at the prospect of biking home over the bridge at 10:00pm. Anything to get away from the car.
3. The washing machine stopped mid cycle, for no apparent reason. I dialed it ahead and it started again, but I don't know why it stopped. It also didn't automatically go through to the 2nd rinse like it is set to do. This is not good. I think that my Mr. Washie may be protesting in solidarity with the world renowned Mr. Washie. So I stood in the basement and told my Mr. Washie how much I loved him and how I appreciated these past 4 years we've had together and although I didn't know how he was treated before I took over his care, I promised that if he needed it, I would get him better soap.
I'm pretty sure it's all because I laughed at the Yarn Harlot's entry yesterday.
Trouble comes in threes, right? This is all of it, right?
Ok, because I have no access to digital photos for you right now (which means I can hide the number of WIPs I have), I spent some time with Mr. Scanner. I scanned in some of my favourite photos from the last few years. Favourite photos that don't include people who may or may not be wanted by the police.
I apologize if you're on dialup.
Since it is starting to rain outside (downpour, really) I'll go with a water theme:
This is the MacDonald Bridge partially under the siege of Maritime fog. That's looking across to where I live.
This is a beach on the northern side of PEI. Yes, that PEI, Prince Edward Island. Home of Lucy Maude Montgomery. I was sprawled on the beach at 9 in the morning taking this photo. I love how the wind had blown the sand out from under the rocks. It looks like an alien planet.
This photo was taken right in the heart of my hometown in New Brunswick. It looks pretty calm in this photo, but you're actually looking at a waterfall and a very old hydro-electric station. It's kinda pretty, isn't it?
This was taken on the highway somewhere between Whistler and Vancouver, BC. I can see why Angela loves it out there. We were there in 1999 for our friends' wedding. They got married in White Rock. What a beautiful place.
Speaking of our friend...
This is him, jumping into the water with Andrew. John is on the left and Andrew is on the right. This is taken just in front of John's dad's cottage. We visited John there while we were on our honeymoon. It seems lame, visiting a friend while on your honeymoon... but lemme show you the "cottage":
John's dad doesn't do anything small. I can't tell you where the cottage is, but I can tell you that we had a great time. That's me, waving from the dock. That's the same pool in the river that the boys were jumping in.
Okay, I've got more, but I'm hearing thunder, so that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this-non knitting segment...
Oh, just one more... for someone... she'll know who she is...
Sorry, it's not an orange door... yet.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Short Lived
I'm taking tomorrow off. I was just sitting on the couch, revelling in the knowledge that I can sleep in tomorrow when I remembered something:
I'm taking tomorrow off because I'm working on the weekend.
*insert disappointed "The Price Is Right" but you got it wrong type sound here*
Sigh.
Despite the knowledge that I am working all weekend, tomorrow is going to be a good day. I'm hoping that my darling husband is coherent enough to have breakfast with me tomorrow. He's STILL doing that insane "starting up a new business must work 20 hours a day" thing. I haven't really seen much of him over the last month. I briefly considered starting a support group for people who have spouses / partners who work too much. But then I remembered that I've already started that. It's me and a bunch of balls of yarn, only, the balls of yarn don't talk much and seem complacent with their lot in life.
I'm also planning to go for Cwaffeeeeee with Sheryl, my fabbo, wonderful LYS owner. Feel the love Sheryl, feel the love. Though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of Gaspereau Valley Fibres, you should fear no evil, for I still have money to spend at your store! (Julie, you should feel the love too, because your store is very different from Sheryl's - different from, different than???)...
And in not so great news - I'm getting mes yeux (my eyes) checked tomorrow. My prescription hasn't changed in quite a few years, but I'm starting to notice some issues with focusing when I'm at the grocery store and (worse yet) at Chapters. I totally spazzed on Andrew in the grocery store's soup aisle the other day. I clutched at his arm and said, "You've got to find the French Canadian Pea soup for me. I can't read the labels. Something is wrong with my eyes! Ahhhhh." I know that most of you are now more concerned that I eat French Canadian Pea soup than you are about my eyes, but lemme tell you it fills you up and no one at the office ever asks you to share when you bring what is commonly considered to be: Fart Soup.
So I have to go see my kinda hunky Optometrist tomorrow. It's very hard to maintain composure when someone you consider cute is that close to your head... and he totally freaks me out by flipping my eyelids up to check them for nasty cancerous growths. Does every optometrist do this now? My old optometrist, who was in Maine (yup, I crossed the border for the sake of my eyes... shout out to Dr. McMannis), never, ever flipped my lids. (hee hee) Every time my new optometrist flips my eyelids I think of that nasty kid from elementary school who sat in front of me on the bus and would turn around and look at me with his eyelids flipped. GAHHHHHH!
I just really hope that I don't need new glasses. I just got these puppies (sorry, Minou, spectacles) about 17 months ago. I haven't even sat on them yet!
Oh, I wanted to point you guys to Crazy Aunt Purl, but especially to this post. Especially the last two paragraphs. Did anyone else have this experience when they started to knit? She's got me pinned. I thought that knitting was so amazing that I tried to knit in the car on the way back to the cottage the first NIGHT I had re-learned how to knit. I think it spoke to my inner obsessive-compulsive needs. I didn't want to move away from the needles, ever! Still don't.
Alrighty then, if I'm going to get done all the things I'm hoping to accomplish tomorrow, I'm going to have to go to bed now.
I'll leave you with this, it's a pansy from my garden last year. I put it on the scanner. Hang in there, fellow Canucks, it won't be long!
B.T.W. In spite of the 20 degree Celsius weather today, we're supposed to get snow tonight. Not a lot, but snow nonetheless. It's the last one - then it really is spring.
I'm taking tomorrow off because I'm working on the weekend.
*insert disappointed "The Price Is Right" but you got it wrong type sound here*
Sigh.
Despite the knowledge that I am working all weekend, tomorrow is going to be a good day. I'm hoping that my darling husband is coherent enough to have breakfast with me tomorrow. He's STILL doing that insane "starting up a new business must work 20 hours a day" thing. I haven't really seen much of him over the last month. I briefly considered starting a support group for people who have spouses / partners who work too much. But then I remembered that I've already started that. It's me and a bunch of balls of yarn, only, the balls of yarn don't talk much and seem complacent with their lot in life.
I'm also planning to go for Cwaffeeeeee with Sheryl, my fabbo, wonderful LYS owner. Feel the love Sheryl, feel the love. Though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of Gaspereau Valley Fibres, you should fear no evil, for I still have money to spend at your store! (Julie, you should feel the love too, because your store is very different from Sheryl's - different from, different than???)...
And in not so great news - I'm getting mes yeux (my eyes) checked tomorrow. My prescription hasn't changed in quite a few years, but I'm starting to notice some issues with focusing when I'm at the grocery store and (worse yet) at Chapters. I totally spazzed on Andrew in the grocery store's soup aisle the other day. I clutched at his arm and said, "You've got to find the French Canadian Pea soup for me. I can't read the labels. Something is wrong with my eyes! Ahhhhh." I know that most of you are now more concerned that I eat French Canadian Pea soup than you are about my eyes, but lemme tell you it fills you up and no one at the office ever asks you to share when you bring what is commonly considered to be: Fart Soup.
So I have to go see my kinda hunky Optometrist tomorrow. It's very hard to maintain composure when someone you consider cute is that close to your head... and he totally freaks me out by flipping my eyelids up to check them for nasty cancerous growths. Does every optometrist do this now? My old optometrist, who was in Maine (yup, I crossed the border for the sake of my eyes... shout out to Dr. McMannis), never, ever flipped my lids. (hee hee) Every time my new optometrist flips my eyelids I think of that nasty kid from elementary school who sat in front of me on the bus and would turn around and look at me with his eyelids flipped. GAHHHHHH!
I just really hope that I don't need new glasses. I just got these puppies (sorry, Minou, spectacles) about 17 months ago. I haven't even sat on them yet!
Oh, I wanted to point you guys to Crazy Aunt Purl, but especially to this post. Especially the last two paragraphs. Did anyone else have this experience when they started to knit? She's got me pinned. I thought that knitting was so amazing that I tried to knit in the car on the way back to the cottage the first NIGHT I had re-learned how to knit. I think it spoke to my inner obsessive-compulsive needs. I didn't want to move away from the needles, ever! Still don't.
Alrighty then, if I'm going to get done all the things I'm hoping to accomplish tomorrow, I'm going to have to go to bed now.
I'll leave you with this, it's a pansy from my garden last year. I put it on the scanner. Hang in there, fellow Canucks, it won't be long!
B.T.W. In spite of the 20 degree Celsius weather today, we're supposed to get snow tonight. Not a lot, but snow nonetheless. It's the last one - then it really is spring.
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