I’ve been reading other people’s blogs lately in hopes of finding something really inspiring. Today apparently wasn’t the day for inspiration. I did find the following meme online, and thought I might as well fill in my answers. If nothing else, I’ll have had the opportunity to reflect on my year.
1. What did you do in 2006 that you’d never done before?
Created a blog! Not this one, but this one from a few doors down. My own blog didn’t appear online until 2007. I also learned NOT to use Adobe Contribute to build a website.
2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I did not make any, and I’ve been 100% successful at not breaking them, too!
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Nope. The closest one was my niece Morgan, born in the spring of 2005.
4. What countries did you visit?
O Canada! I don’t believe I left the province of Ontario in 2006.
5. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?
Someone to pay me to do what I would like to do to earn a living.
6. What dates from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 2, 2006 – that was the day that my Aunt Gwen had her hip replacement surgery.
7. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I don’t recall any one thing that was a big achievement. I have a big head though, and am quite happy with just about everything in my life.
8. What was your biggest failure?
Again, see #8 – I don’t have any big failures to report.
9. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Good grief yes! Late in 2005 I fell down our hardwood stairs and broke my tailbone. There’s no way to put a cast on your tailbone, so I hobbled around and chewed analgesics for about 6 weeks. 2 weeks after I returned to work I dislocated a knee cap and was on crutches for a few weeks. Physically, 2006 wasn’t a fun year for me.
10. What was the best thing you bought?
Our new truck, without a doubt!
11. Where did most of your money go?
I gave most of my money to a dear friend of mine, Mr. Mort Gage.
12. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Christmas. I love Christmas! And every year, there it is again, a time to spend time with the various members of my family, friends, and time away from the office. Who could ask for anything more. Oh – and presents! I can’t deny that I do like presents!
13. What song will always remind you of 2006?
Margo’s Got The Cargo. Don’t ask.
14. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Happier, fatter, and poorer.
15. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Catching big bags of money as they fell from the sky, of course.
16. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Complaining. I try hard not to, but sometimes the world just gets to me.
17. Did you fall in love in 2006?
All over again, every day.
18. What was your favorite TV program?
House, and CSI.
19. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope. I don’t hate anyone. I have a list of near-misses, but nobody is on the hate list.
20. What was the best book you read?
I can’t pick just one. The last one I read was Angela’s Ashes. I like anything by Torey Hayden, Sydney Sheldon, and too many others to mention.
21. What did you want and get?
New pots. I had no idea that pots and pans could be SO nice!
22. What did you want and not get?
Rich. Yet.
23. What did you do on your birthday?
If I remember correctly, I had the flu, so we had a quiet family night at home.
24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
I think it was pretty great as is. Not injuring myself would definitely have been a plus.
25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?
I'm supposed to have a fashion concept? Is “Look What Just Came Out of The Dryer” a fashion concept? If so, that’s what I’ve got.
26. What kept you sane?
Family. (Of course, who are they to judge my level of sanity!)
27. What political issue stirred you the most?
Everything at the municipal level. I’ve been bitten by the political bug, and am really enjoying the infection.
28. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006.
That my family is incredible, unbeatable, and irreplaceable.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Nana and Pops
Once upon a time I called them Mom and Dad, once they graduated from Mommy and Daddy status. Now they're simply Nana and Pops.
When I was expecting a baby we talked often about what the grandparents would be called. I had two Grandmas - differentiated by their last names and their roles in my life.
My maternal grandmother was the 'country mouse', quite content to rock babies and coddle little children. She baked pies and cakes, and could turn half a pound of hamburger and a potato into a meal fit for a king. This grandmother had three girls and two boys, and was the stereotypical grandmother. She tucked us in to bed at night with a hug and a kiss, and was never afraid to give you a swat if you deserved it.
My paternal grandmother was more the 'city mouse' type. She had a full-time job, and lived in an apartment. Her time away from work was spent doing things that she enjoyed. She raised three boys and no girls. The rest of her grandchildren called her Nana, but for us she was simply Grandma.
Once I appeared on the scene as the eldest granddaughter, her own children had been on their own for quite some time. The grandkids had a basket of toys in her apartment, and she kept a fully stocked 'colouring drawer' for when the novelty of the toys wore off. It seems to me that she simply suggested to my parents when discipline was due.
As a child I could always tell which grandmother we were talking about, based on the rest of the conversation. Not that I wasn't close to both grandmothers - but a kid knows. If the discussion was about spending a night at Grandma's house - I knew that meant Mom's mother.
By the time I was nearly five years old, my maternal grandmother lived with us. We had a full-time live-in Grandma! I knew that we were the luckiest kids on the block, maybe even the luckiest kids on the planet! Nobody else had a live-in Grandma that I knew of. My brother and I never had a babysitter, EVER. We had three parents at home - and Grandma came fully equiped with scotch mints in her bedside table, stories to tell, and lots of hugs to share. Who needed a babysitter?
I knew that 'Grandma' was the right name for my mother. I hadn't seen her in grandma mode yet, but I was pretty sure she'd follow in her mother's footsteps.
My father presented another issue altogether. When I was born, I did have two grandfathers. My mom's father was Grandad. Dad's father was Grandpa. Sadly, Grandad passed away before I ever remember his existance. I have lots of pictures of me as a baby with Grandad.
Grandad had a woodshop whereas most people have a garage. He was a 'tinker' of all sorts. It seems to me there wasn't anything he couldn't build or repair. I believe he was a mechanic during the second world war. In his later years his passion was woodworking. I still have the cradle he made for me when I was a little girl, and the child size rocking chair has it's own proud place in my livingroom.
Grandpa, however, was a retired businessman, and a musician. He never came across to me as being particulary handy, but he was always interested in a good conversation or a debate. He worked with his mind more than his hands, I suppose.
My father didn't fit either mold exactly. He was a businessman by trade, and a woodworker by hobby. One afternoon when I asked him what kind of patriarchal title he preferred, he told me that his wish was to be called "Grandfather". I giggled a bit, and envisioned throngs of young children sitting on the floor around his throne, pledging their allegiance to the family and the territory it represented.
Grandfather. Hmmm...all that I could think of was the lyrics to "My Grandfather Clock". The biggest problem was that my parents were not old.
My son came into the world when my parents were still in their 50s. They were old enough to have 'been there and done that' according to whatever experiences I had to share, but they certainly weren't elderly by any stretch of the imagination.
'Grandfather' just didn't work for me.
By the time my son was about a year old my mother had already been designated as Nana.
One afternoon, Dad took Logan outside to have him help with some 'work'. I don't remember the task at hand, but it likely involved pouring copious amounts of water over a flower in the garden. Dad reached out for Logan's hand and said "Come with me", and Logan put his little hand in my father's and exclaimed "Okay Pops!" The rest, as they say, is history.
Boy, was I mistaken to think that the naming of the grandparents was my right.
When I was expecting a baby we talked often about what the grandparents would be called. I had two Grandmas - differentiated by their last names and their roles in my life.
My maternal grandmother was the 'country mouse', quite content to rock babies and coddle little children. She baked pies and cakes, and could turn half a pound of hamburger and a potato into a meal fit for a king. This grandmother had three girls and two boys, and was the stereotypical grandmother. She tucked us in to bed at night with a hug and a kiss, and was never afraid to give you a swat if you deserved it. My paternal grandmother was more the 'city mouse' type. She had a full-time job, and lived in an apartment. Her time away from work was spent doing things that she enjoyed. She raised three boys and no girls. The rest of her grandchildren called her Nana, but for us she was simply Grandma.
Once I appeared on the scene as the eldest granddaughter, her own children had been on their own for quite some time. The grandkids had a basket of toys in her apartment, and she kept a fully stocked 'colouring drawer' for when the novelty of the toys wore off. It seems to me that she simply suggested to my parents when discipline was due.
As a child I could always tell which grandmother we were talking about, based on the rest of the conversation. Not that I wasn't close to both grandmothers - but a kid knows. If the discussion was about spending a night at Grandma's house - I knew that meant Mom's mother.
By the time I was nearly five years old, my maternal grandmother lived with us. We had a full-time live-in Grandma! I knew that we were the luckiest kids on the block, maybe even the luckiest kids on the planet! Nobody else had a live-in Grandma that I knew of. My brother and I never had a babysitter, EVER. We had three parents at home - and Grandma came fully equiped with scotch mints in her bedside table, stories to tell, and lots of hugs to share. Who needed a babysitter?
I knew that 'Grandma' was the right name for my mother. I hadn't seen her in grandma mode yet, but I was pretty sure she'd follow in her mother's footsteps.
My father presented another issue altogether. When I was born, I did have two grandfathers. My mom's father was Grandad. Dad's father was Grandpa. Sadly, Grandad passed away before I ever remember his existance. I have lots of pictures of me as a baby with Grandad.
Grandad had a woodshop whereas most people have a garage. He was a 'tinker' of all sorts. It seems to me there wasn't anything he couldn't build or repair. I believe he was a mechanic during the second world war. In his later years his passion was woodworking. I still have the cradle he made for me when I was a little girl, and the child size rocking chair has it's own proud place in my livingroom.
Grandpa, however, was a retired businessman, and a musician. He never came across to me as being particulary handy, but he was always interested in a good conversation or a debate. He worked with his mind more than his hands, I suppose.
My father didn't fit either mold exactly. He was a businessman by trade, and a woodworker by hobby. One afternoon when I asked him what kind of patriarchal title he preferred, he told me that his wish was to be called "Grandfather". I giggled a bit, and envisioned throngs of young children sitting on the floor around his throne, pledging their allegiance to the family and the territory it represented.
Grandfather. Hmmm...all that I could think of was the lyrics to "My Grandfather Clock". The biggest problem was that my parents were not old.
My son came into the world when my parents were still in their 50s. They were old enough to have 'been there and done that' according to whatever experiences I had to share, but they certainly weren't elderly by any stretch of the imagination.
'Grandfather' just didn't work for me.
By the time my son was about a year old my mother had already been designated as Nana.
One afternoon, Dad took Logan outside to have him help with some 'work'. I don't remember the task at hand, but it likely involved pouring copious amounts of water over a flower in the garden. Dad reached out for Logan's hand and said "Come with me", and Logan put his little hand in my father's and exclaimed "Okay Pops!" The rest, as they say, is history.
Boy, was I mistaken to think that the naming of the grandparents was my right.
We, The People Of the Jury..
In Canada we do not have mandatory enlistment. Our young men and women need not worry about being drafted. One of our civic duties, however, is to present ourselves to serve as a juror when summoned.
I received my jury questionnaire about a year ago in the mail. The form was very official. It asked for my occupation, the languages I speak and whether or not I’d ever been convicted of an indictable offense. I dutifully filled out the form and returned it.
A month or so ago, my other half received a summons for jury duty in the mail. I was quite excited about the whole thing – but I’m like that. Any new experience is worth investigating. My number hasn’t been pulled yet, so I’m living vicariously through my spouse and his experiences of late.
He was at the local courthouse on the appointed day, at the appointed time to perform his civic duty. Day one was filled with lots of waiting - waiting to pass through the security check at the courthouse entrance - waiting for someone to call his juror number - waiting to see if he’d been selected. Lots of waiting! Rumour has it that the coffee at our local courthouse isn’t great, either.
He was selected to sit on a jury on day two. The trial was going to be approximately 2 months in duration. That’s when I started doing some research. Jury duty is not paid right off the bat. Some employers will pay you while you’re off serving on a jury, but some do not. By law – in Ontario, your employer does not have to compensate you for your time as you serve on a jury. By law, however, they do have to allow you the time away from work in order to perform your duty as a Canadian.
In Ontario, the first 10 days that you work as a juror are unpaid. On day eleven you start to earn money - $40 a day, to be exact. That’s $5 per hour. Nobody’s going to get rich sitting on a jury around here, that’s for sure.
Your income jumps to $100 per day once you hit day fifty-one.
The first case that Chris was chosen for was going to be roughly two months in duration. Two months is a long time to go without his ‘anticipated salary’, or at least it appears that way from my side of the accounting ledger. He was advised that he could plead ‘personal hardship’ if serving for such a long period of time was going to impact his financial obligations. Thankfully, that’s just what he did.
From what I understand, lots of people did the same thing. There were a few people there with what seemed to be perfectly legitimate reasons for not wanting to sit for 2 months on a panel of jurors. Imagine that you’re a stay-at-home parent with four or five children who depend on you for care while your spouse is at work. Daycare for four or five children for a day would far exceed the $40 allotment that you’d get on day eleven.
I did a little bit of research, and different provinces have different guidelines for jury pay. In Québec, jurors receive meal allowances of about $45 per day. That’s more than the Ontario jury pay amount, and in Ontario you're not compensated for your meals.
In Québec, jurors are entitled to compensation of $90 per day during the hearing and deliberation. They receive the same compensation for each full day as long as they remain on the jury and are confined to the premises designated by the sheriff. If the jury is put into seclusion for the evening (if no verdict has been reached) then they receive a supplementary allowance of $45.
Depending on your salary, and what you do for a living, one might actually MAKE some money serving on a jury in la belle province. A juror in Québec would also receive an allotment for childcare. I don’t quite understand why the pay scale is different from province to province.
As a member of the jury, one is not supposed to talk about what’s going on. Chris is not supposed to read about it, and he’s most certainly not supposed to come home and spill his guts to me.
All that I could get out of him was that the case that has come to trial this week is about ‘an incident’ that occurred in 2001. That was six years ago. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, and I have no recollection of what went on six years ago from today. I suppose if whatever transpired was out of the ordinary I might still have some recollection – but I’m surprised that our system works so slowly. Wow.
At any rate, my partner is definitely being a good Canadian. He will do what’s required of him.
I’m glad I wasn’t chosen. . . . not because I’d lose some income, I think I could deal with that. I’m happy not to be chosen because from what I understand, although they call you “Juror Number 54321” they also call you by name. As you walk into the room with the alleged criminal and both teams of legal representation….they announce YOUR NAME to the world. I’m quite happy to NOT make Joe Criminal aware of my first and last names, thank you very much.
But again, I’m like that.
I received my jury questionnaire about a year ago in the mail. The form was very official. It asked for my occupation, the languages I speak and whether or not I’d ever been convicted of an indictable offense. I dutifully filled out the form and returned it.A month or so ago, my other half received a summons for jury duty in the mail. I was quite excited about the whole thing – but I’m like that. Any new experience is worth investigating. My number hasn’t been pulled yet, so I’m living vicariously through my spouse and his experiences of late.
He was at the local courthouse on the appointed day, at the appointed time to perform his civic duty. Day one was filled with lots of waiting - waiting to pass through the security check at the courthouse entrance - waiting for someone to call his juror number - waiting to see if he’d been selected. Lots of waiting! Rumour has it that the coffee at our local courthouse isn’t great, either.
He was selected to sit on a jury on day two. The trial was going to be approximately 2 months in duration. That’s when I started doing some research. Jury duty is not paid right off the bat. Some employers will pay you while you’re off serving on a jury, but some do not. By law – in Ontario, your employer does not have to compensate you for your time as you serve on a jury. By law, however, they do have to allow you the time away from work in order to perform your duty as a Canadian.
In Ontario, the first 10 days that you work as a juror are unpaid. On day eleven you start to earn money - $40 a day, to be exact. That’s $5 per hour. Nobody’s going to get rich sitting on a jury around here, that’s for sure.
Your income jumps to $100 per day once you hit day fifty-one.
The first case that Chris was chosen for was going to be roughly two months in duration. Two months is a long time to go without his ‘anticipated salary’, or at least it appears that way from my side of the accounting ledger. He was advised that he could plead ‘personal hardship’ if serving for such a long period of time was going to impact his financial obligations. Thankfully, that’s just what he did.
From what I understand, lots of people did the same thing. There were a few people there with what seemed to be perfectly legitimate reasons for not wanting to sit for 2 months on a panel of jurors. Imagine that you’re a stay-at-home parent with four or five children who depend on you for care while your spouse is at work. Daycare for four or five children for a day would far exceed the $40 allotment that you’d get on day eleven.
I did a little bit of research, and different provinces have different guidelines for jury pay. In Québec, jurors receive meal allowances of about $45 per day. That’s more than the Ontario jury pay amount, and in Ontario you're not compensated for your meals.
In Québec, jurors are entitled to compensation of $90 per day during the hearing and deliberation. They receive the same compensation for each full day as long as they remain on the jury and are confined to the premises designated by the sheriff. If the jury is put into seclusion for the evening (if no verdict has been reached) then they receive a supplementary allowance of $45.
Depending on your salary, and what you do for a living, one might actually MAKE some money serving on a jury in la belle province. A juror in Québec would also receive an allotment for childcare. I don’t quite understand why the pay scale is different from province to province.
As a member of the jury, one is not supposed to talk about what’s going on. Chris is not supposed to read about it, and he’s most certainly not supposed to come home and spill his guts to me.
All that I could get out of him was that the case that has come to trial this week is about ‘an incident’ that occurred in 2001. That was six years ago. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, and I have no recollection of what went on six years ago from today. I suppose if whatever transpired was out of the ordinary I might still have some recollection – but I’m surprised that our system works so slowly. Wow.
At any rate, my partner is definitely being a good Canadian. He will do what’s required of him. I’m glad I wasn’t chosen. . . . not because I’d lose some income, I think I could deal with that. I’m happy not to be chosen because from what I understand, although they call you “Juror Number 54321” they also call you by name. As you walk into the room with the alleged criminal and both teams of legal representation….they announce YOUR NAME to the world. I’m quite happy to NOT make Joe Criminal aware of my first and last names, thank you very much.
But again, I’m like that.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Walkabout Waste
About 2 months ago I came across this blog while searching Google for other bloggers in Aurora. I'm very impressed with the efforts that Mrs. Walkabout Waste is making to clean up our town. As hypocritical as it might sound (because I'm not going above and beyond as she is to try and make a difference) - I have noticed the different piles of garbage on Yonge Street, but mostly the obvious ones - piles of garbage that seem to be neglected by the garbage man.
Reading Walkabout Waste has really made me stop and examine my surroundings just a little bit closer. I'm flabbergasted by the number of takeout coffee cups and fast food packaging that I see tossed willy-nilly in the vicinity of the restaurants. That's what the trash cans are there for, people!
Hopefully reading through these de-littering adventures will prompt other citizens to take note of their surroundings. I think the first step is recognizing that the problem exists - and hopefully everyone will do their part to clean up after themselves.
And, just for the record, if you're really unsure what to do with that empty coffee cup as you're driving to work - do just what I do... toss it on the floor of the back seat of your car. Once you have a large enough collection back their, your spouse will grumble, or your children will complain because there's no room to sit - then you simply gather them all up in a bag, and put them in their place! Ha!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
"Ay, the Ides of March Are Come, But They Are Not Gone"
Have you ever had the feeling that you’ve forgotten something? Well, for me, today, that’s how I feel - not that I’ve forgotten something mundane like to brush my teeth or to turn the furnace down before I left the house this morning – but that I’ve forgotten something of paramount importance.
I have scoured my calendar, it’s not my mother’s birthday, it’s not anybody’s anniversary. Today I didn’t have any appointments scheduled at all. My office calendar is clear too. All of my bills are paid in full, and there is still money in the bank for the next round.
Yet, I have this feeling in the bottom of my stomach that at any minute someone will pounce on me, leaping out of the shadows waving a calendar or an invoice and shouting “You forgot! How dare you?”
"Well, the Ides of March are come. Ay, they are come, but they are not gone."
Maybe I’m still ensconced in the story that I’ve been reading. “The Fortune Teller” by Marsha Norman.
Fay, the protagonist, is just that, a fortune teller who is not always looked upon kindly by her neighbours. Norman paints a clear picture of how Fay is made out to be a ‘freak’ by the locals.
The storyline is twofold…in the ‘main storyline’ Fay uses her psychic ability to help pinpoint the location of 27 children who have gone missing from the fairgrounds. I’m quite intrigued with her ability to simply study at a picture of one of the missing children, put her head down on the table and, using her mind’s eye, see everything that the abducted child can see in their surroundings.
In one chapter, she ‘mentally suggests’ to a three year old girl to walk closer to a gym bag on the floor in hopes that she can catch a glimpse of the name and address on the tag. The little girl does just as she suggests, and shortly thereafter, the police arrive at the house and happily reunite the little one with her distraught mother. Fay is credited with the child’s safe return, and the townsfolk are thrilled and suddenly very accepting of her abilities.
In the second storyline, which flows parallel to the missing children saga, Fay is struggling with to accept her own abilities. Fay’s daughter, Lizzie, is nearing adulthood and is ‘leaving the nest’ as the expression goes. Lizzie doesn’t do anything that a normal 17 year old wouldn’t do - the trouble lies first of all in her mother’s lack of acceptance. Fay simply can’t bear to watch Lizzie grow up because she knows that means that one day Lizzie will leave and she’ll be alone. Through all of the issues in their small town, the one constant, the one normal thing that Fay clung to, was her daughter Lizzie. Unfortunately for Fay, childhood is not everlasting.
Although Fay isn’t willing to accept that one day her daughter might just pack her bags and move out of their home above the fortune telling studio – the fact that Fay can ‘channel in’ to what is going on in her daughter’s life doesn’t help the situation at all. Fay sees snippets of Lizzie’s evening cruise with a dark-haired young man that Fay refers to as “The Devil”. Fay observes Lizzie’s wedding day procession down the aisle of a fancy church, and can see that the brides side of the church is totally vacant.
I’m only half way through the novel, and right now Fay is still trying to help locate the abductees, while trying to keep focused on what is going on with her daughter. I’m very intrigued. The locating of the children makes me think that a psychic ability is definitely a blessing……but watching Fay’s daughter ‘grow away’ – well, that’s the flip side obviously.
I wonder, if I had a similar ability, would I be able to see what I feel like I’ve forgotten….or would I not have forgotten it in the first place because my thoughts would always be ahead of what is going on in the here and now?
“I can always remember anything I don’t forget,
But sometimes I forget to remember.”
~Uncle George
I have scoured my calendar, it’s not my mother’s birthday, it’s not anybody’s anniversary. Today I didn’t have any appointments scheduled at all. My office calendar is clear too. All of my bills are paid in full, and there is still money in the bank for the next round.
Yet, I have this feeling in the bottom of my stomach that at any minute someone will pounce on me, leaping out of the shadows waving a calendar or an invoice and shouting “You forgot! How dare you?”
"Well, the Ides of March are come. Ay, they are come, but they are not gone."Maybe I’m still ensconced in the story that I’ve been reading. “The Fortune Teller” by Marsha Norman.
Fay, the protagonist, is just that, a fortune teller who is not always looked upon kindly by her neighbours. Norman paints a clear picture of how Fay is made out to be a ‘freak’ by the locals.
The storyline is twofold…in the ‘main storyline’ Fay uses her psychic ability to help pinpoint the location of 27 children who have gone missing from the fairgrounds. I’m quite intrigued with her ability to simply study at a picture of one of the missing children, put her head down on the table and, using her mind’s eye, see everything that the abducted child can see in their surroundings.
In one chapter, she ‘mentally suggests’ to a three year old girl to walk closer to a gym bag on the floor in hopes that she can catch a glimpse of the name and address on the tag. The little girl does just as she suggests, and shortly thereafter, the police arrive at the house and happily reunite the little one with her distraught mother. Fay is credited with the child’s safe return, and the townsfolk are thrilled and suddenly very accepting of her abilities.
In the second storyline, which flows parallel to the missing children saga, Fay is struggling with to accept her own abilities. Fay’s daughter, Lizzie, is nearing adulthood and is ‘leaving the nest’ as the expression goes. Lizzie doesn’t do anything that a normal 17 year old wouldn’t do - the trouble lies first of all in her mother’s lack of acceptance. Fay simply can’t bear to watch Lizzie grow up because she knows that means that one day Lizzie will leave and she’ll be alone. Through all of the issues in their small town, the one constant, the one normal thing that Fay clung to, was her daughter Lizzie. Unfortunately for Fay, childhood is not everlasting.
Although Fay isn’t willing to accept that one day her daughter might just pack her bags and move out of their home above the fortune telling studio – the fact that Fay can ‘channel in’ to what is going on in her daughter’s life doesn’t help the situation at all. Fay sees snippets of Lizzie’s evening cruise with a dark-haired young man that Fay refers to as “The Devil”. Fay observes Lizzie’s wedding day procession down the aisle of a fancy church, and can see that the brides side of the church is totally vacant.
I’m only half way through the novel, and right now Fay is still trying to help locate the abductees, while trying to keep focused on what is going on with her daughter. I’m very intrigued. The locating of the children makes me think that a psychic ability is definitely a blessing……but watching Fay’s daughter ‘grow away’ – well, that’s the flip side obviously.
I wonder, if I had a similar ability, would I be able to see what I feel like I’ve forgotten….or would I not have forgotten it in the first place because my thoughts would always be ahead of what is going on in the here and now?
“I can always remember anything I don’t forget,
But sometimes I forget to remember.”
~Uncle George
Sunday, March 11, 2007
The Finished Masterpiece
I'm quite pleased with the finished results. It took a lot of finicky final touches, but here it is!
Running with the Herd
A friend suggested that I post my answers to the following questions on my blog. Why? I don't know exactly, but apparently everbody's doing it.
It's Sunday morning and I'm all mixed up with the time change - so I thought I might as well, while I wait for the rest of the world to wake up. Here we go:
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was your first thought?
I have no idea what time it is!
2. Do you read while you're in the bathroom?
Of course! Unless I'm brushing my teeth, I'm not that coordinated.
3. What rhymes with fit?
Knit!
4. Favourite planet?
The sun - life would be pretty dismal without it, now wouldn't it?
5. Who is the fourth person on your missed call list?
I don't have caller id.
6. What is your favourite ring on your phone?
We have one that plays the Star Spangled Banner, which is neat - right now it's set to Beethoven's 9th (Ode to Joy).
7. What shirt are you wearing?
A pink one!
8. What were you doing 20 minutes ago?
Pouring a second cup of coffee.
9. Name the brand of shoes you are currently wearing.
Fuzzy purple slippers.
10. Bright or dark rooms?
Bright! I don't like 'muddy colours' or dark ones for the walls.
11. What do you think of the person who posted this survey?
Well, that would be me - I think I'm alright.
12. If you're in a room with two beds which one do you sleep in?
The empty one.
13. What were you doing at exactly midnight last night?
Sleeping.
14. What was the last text message you received on your cell phone?
Telus - reminding me that I was almost out of airtime.
15. How do you like your eggs?
Poached, with Hollandaise sauce.
16. What's a word/phrase you say a lot?
I'm not sure - I will have to pay close attention to myself today and see what word appears most frequently.
17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My Mom. She's the best!
18. Last furry thing you touched?
Besides the slippers? I guess the last furry thing I touched was Muffy.
19. How many drugs have you done in the past three days?
Uhhh... I took an Advil one day this week for a headache.
20. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?
Film? I have a digital camera, and don't use film.
21. Favourite age you've been so far?
Twenty-four was the year I had my son, that was a pretty good year for me.
22. Worst enemy?
I don't have an enemy.
24. What's the last thing you said to someone?
This is a silly question. I said "Bye, Chris!" when he went out.
25. If you had to choose between a million dollars and being able to fly?
Show me the money!
26. Do you like someone?
Is this a teeny-bopper question? I like lots of somebodies!
27. If you could punch one person in the face, who would it be?
Right now, nobody.
28. What's the closest object to your left foot?
My left slipper, of course.
29. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I'd likeskin that never wrinkles, hair that never grays, and vision and hearing that never fails. to look back proudly on my life some day and realize that the white hair I earned didn't come from simply walking through a snowstorm. White hair is like stretch marks - battle scars that one should be proud of!
30. If one thing about you could always remain the same, what would it be?
My ability to talk. Without that, I'm afraid I'd be nothing at all!
It's Sunday morning and I'm all mixed up with the time change - so I thought I might as well, while I wait for the rest of the world to wake up. Here we go:
1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was your first thought?
I have no idea what time it is!
2. Do you read while you're in the bathroom?
Of course! Unless I'm brushing my teeth, I'm not that coordinated.
3. What rhymes with fit?
Knit!
4. Favourite planet?
The sun - life would be pretty dismal without it, now wouldn't it?
5. Who is the fourth person on your missed call list?
I don't have caller id.
6. What is your favourite ring on your phone?
We have one that plays the Star Spangled Banner, which is neat - right now it's set to Beethoven's 9th (Ode to Joy).
7. What shirt are you wearing?
A pink one!
8. What were you doing 20 minutes ago?
Pouring a second cup of coffee.
9. Name the brand of shoes you are currently wearing.
Fuzzy purple slippers.
10. Bright or dark rooms?
Bright! I don't like 'muddy colours' or dark ones for the walls.
11. What do you think of the person who posted this survey?
Well, that would be me - I think I'm alright.
12. If you're in a room with two beds which one do you sleep in?
The empty one.
13. What were you doing at exactly midnight last night?
Sleeping.
14. What was the last text message you received on your cell phone?
Telus - reminding me that I was almost out of airtime.
15. How do you like your eggs?
Poached, with Hollandaise sauce.
16. What's a word/phrase you say a lot?
I'm not sure - I will have to pay close attention to myself today and see what word appears most frequently.
17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My Mom. She's the best!
18. Last furry thing you touched?
Besides the slippers? I guess the last furry thing I touched was Muffy.
19. How many drugs have you done in the past three days?
Uhhh... I took an Advil one day this week for a headache.
20. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?
Film? I have a digital camera, and don't use film.
21. Favourite age you've been so far?
Twenty-four was the year I had my son, that was a pretty good year for me.
22. Worst enemy?
I don't have an enemy.
24. What's the last thing you said to someone?
This is a silly question. I said "Bye, Chris!" when he went out.
25. If you had to choose between a million dollars and being able to fly?
Show me the money!
26. Do you like someone?
Is this a teeny-bopper question? I like lots of somebodies!
27. If you could punch one person in the face, who would it be?
Right now, nobody.
28. What's the closest object to your left foot?
My left slipper, of course.
29. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I'd like
30. If one thing about you could always remain the same, what would it be?
My ability to talk. Without that, I'm afraid I'd be nothing at all!
Thursday, March 8, 2007
That Was Then, and This is ....Almost Finished
Here is the 'before' photo. The original is about 3 inches tall and 2 inches wide. Notice the wear mark where the little boy's forehead used to be. Poor kid!
And here is my progress so far. I've fixed his forehead, and have started to add some colour: Adding colour to the shrub rose in the background is going to be quite a challenge, as I'll have to do them one at a time.
I had a hard time selecting colours that appeared 'washed out enough' to be natural looking in a photo this age. Little Harry's blue socks are still a bit too dark, but I will fade them out as I continue.
And here is my progress so far. I've fixed his forehead, and have started to add some colour: Adding colour to the shrub rose in the background is going to be quite a challenge, as I'll have to do them one at a time.
I had a hard time selecting colours that appeared 'washed out enough' to be natural looking in a photo this age. Little Harry's blue socks are still a bit too dark, but I will fade them out as I continue.I'm really enjoying the learning process that goes along with a project like this. I now have a great appreciation for why so many photo restoration places charge an arm and a leg for this service!
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
A Work in Progress
Here is another old photo that I'm working on adjusting. The original was wrinkled with age, and there was a gaping hole where the little boy's forehead should have been:
I've filled in the hole as best I can, and am now working on recolouring the image just slightly. We'll see how it goes. I will post a complete before and after once the picture is finalized.
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
A Blast from the Past - and Some Photo Editing
According to the writing on the back of this photo, it was taken September 6, 1941 when my Grandad Morton was home on leave during WWII. Grandad isn't in the picture, so I can only assume he was the photographer.
Back row, left to right, Clarence, Iva (Grandma) and Norris
Front row, left to right, Blanche and Gwen.
The picture above looks pretty straightforward, but I put a lot of time into making it look that way. The copy I had looked to be a proof, it was approximately 2.5" square, including a white border around the outside.
I scanned the photo into my computer at 1200 dots per inch using the software that came with the scanner. Then I switched to my new favourite program, Paint.Net. I blew the picture up to the point where I could clearly see the facial features of each of the people, and began to edit.
I removed some blotchy areas, cut out the top of the window, added the smoky border, and typed the date at the bottom. The copy I have now is nearly 4" wide and 6" high and it's much easier to look at. I'm very satisfied with my efforts.
This picture was taken a few years before my mother was born. I intend to find one that includes the whole family, and see how I can improve it to share with my family.
Monday, March 5, 2007
"I've Been to London to Visit the Queen"
Well, I didn't venture as far as London, but I did go to the local theatre to see Helen Mirren starring in "The Queen", on Friday night. I go to the movies no more than twice a year, so I have to really want to see one before I'll shell out the $10+ that it costs for a theatre ticket. The movie was only mediocre. On second thought, mediocre may be not quite positive enough, but "relatively good' is too strong of a rating. I read several reviews of the movie before going to see this film, and the reviews made the movie sound like a groundbreaking film that everyone should see - a film with fantastic acting, wonderful dialogue, and all the glamour that Hollywood and Royalty combined should exude.
That may have been partly why I was disappointed. The last review that I came across gave the movie 7.9 out of 10, so I expected to see a really good show.
Helen Mirren won an Oscar for her acting in the movie. There were a few scenes where she portrayed a teary-eyed Queen, and there were a few scenes where she snuck in a quick smile or a sneer, but the role didn't seem to be one requiring fantastically honed acting skills.
The scene that struck me as the best acted was the one where the Queen was attempting to cross the river narrows and bottomed-out the truck on a rock. The truck's axle was broken, and the Queen stomped around, and peered under the vehicle with a puzzled look on her face, before using her cellphone to summon some help. I can relate to that frustration.
I'm not an actress, but I still can't see that the role of HRH called for a lot of 'emotion' or characterization. Maybe Helen Mirren is bubbly and vivacious in real life, so changing herself into someone who appeared mostly calm and collected WAS in fact an act. I don't know.
I left the movie wanting to hear the next part of the storyline...what happened in the relationship between the Queen and Tony Blair? And why didn't Mr. Blair and his wife either do their dishes or clean the toys up from the kitchen floor - or hire someone to do that?
Why did the Queen spend so much time saying "I must be with the boys", and "My grandsons need me", yet they were never all seen in the same room at all during the film? That was not very believable.
The only thing that I really found truthful, based on my recollections of the news reports at the time, was the public's outpouring of sorrow when the People's Princess was killed. The Queen was portrayed to be unemotional for the most part, and relatively aloof about the whole ordeal.
I think I'll stick to reading the movie reviews for entertainment now.
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