Sunlight on Water

August 21, 2016 at 8:50 am (Fun) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Reflection

  • A perfect summer Saturday,
  • Sunlight on water,
  • Enough of a breeze,
  • Few mosquitoes,
  • Family.
  • Home early enough to recharge before bed,
  • And to chase the cat around the house;
  • She thinks I’m a toy!

 

  • An Introvert’s perfect getaway,
  • Love me and let me be me!

PSA: like to list! Join Li.st.

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Viking Fun

August 15, 2016 at 1:28 pm (Fun) (, , , , , , , )

image

One of the fun souvenirs I got at homecoming were these viking ducks. The viking is our town’s mascot because many of our founder’s ancestors were Norwegian.

It would appear that the pirate viking (he has an eye-patch) is an artist – notice the paint brush he is holding. I bought him because I liked his orangery red hair.

We got one duck free with our homecoming bag. I think that was the blond on the left with the axe. The white haired viking, on the right, with braids and a spoon may be female. Who can tell with rubber duckies! The other ducks cost me a dollar each. Cheap fun at that price!

My eldest sister is not a fan of our viking mascot. Mostly because every image of a viking that the town uses is male. I agree we need a female viking representing our female athletes.

Someone like Lagertha perhaps.

Aren’t Rubber Duckies fun!

 

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Sports Bragging

August 7, 2016 at 8:15 am (Meme) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

I squealed when I saw this week’s travel theme! Yes, yes, yes! I’m in the mood for some bragging.

I play very few sports so this bragging is not about me. It’s about my friend. She’s heavily involved in the Quidditch community. Yes, I said Quidditch as in the sport that Harry Potter plays on flying brooms.

She recently attended the Quidditch World Cup in which Australia came first. Way to go Australia! The Quidditch Canada National Team placed 4th out of 21 teams at the IQA Quidditch World Cup. Pretty good if you ask me!

What to see how Quidditch is played; follow this link to YouTube videos of Quidditch World Cup 2016.

My friend not only plays Quidditch, she also coaches and refs. She was at the World Cup mostly as a ref, I do believe.

I’m in awe. She brings imaginary sports to life. I’m more of a non-athlete. Sometimes I’ll watch ice skating on CBC. Occasionally, I will go and watch a sports game if nieces or nephews (or grand-nieces/nephews) are playing.

I never really got encouraged into any sports. I played a bit in elementary school but by the time I started grade eight I was relegated to the sidelines (like scoring in baseball – I can still fill in and read baseball score cards)!

Sports are harder to pick up as you get older. I do like walking. I do a lot of solitary walking but sometimes I wish I had my friend’s bravery to try something new and spectacular like Quidditch.

Quidditch Refs

Photo credit: Alix Marie d’Avigneau

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This is not my picture. I cribbed it from my friend’s FaceBook page. (I may have to remove it but I hope she’ll be okay with me using it).

Congratulations to all the Quidditch athletes world-wide.

Keep on being innovative!

“Although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.” ~J.K. Rowling

“I’m sitting in the bleachers, watching longingly as all the boys and umbumped girls in my Personal Health and Fitness class play Muggle Quidditch. I don’t even like the game very much, I think it’s silly, but I so miss physical activity that I’d be thrilled if I could run around the gymnasium with a broom between my legs, chasing after the human snitch wearing a gold pinny.” ~Megan McCafferty

 

 

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Book Quotes: Shiny

July 31, 2016 at 8:15 am (Book Commentary) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more. (Author’s note)

Shiny

…she was the one artists would want to draw…She was the one who would someday know a dozen ways to wear a silk scarf, how to read the sky for rain and coax feral animals near, how to purr throaty love songs in Portuguese and Basque, how to lay a vampire to rest, how to light a cigar, how to light a man’s imagination on fire. (p. 24)

It wasn’t a Gothic cemetery; there were no mossy angels weeping miraculous tears of blood, no crypts or curses or crumble. No poets or courtesans were buried here; no vampires slumbered belowground. … Even the dead loitering here spoke of dull things, like the one who worried she’d left the stove burning when she died. (p. 45)

(Goblin Fruit pp. 1 – 55)

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Lips Touch: Three Times
by Laini Taylor
Toronto: Scholastic, 2009 Lips Touch

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Travel Theme: Pairs

July 24, 2016 at 8:15 am (Meme) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

These are pictures that I took when I was experimenting with capturing ground coverings, garden design and other such details. I thought they would work well with this week’s travel theme.

Bears

This is a pair of neighbourhood bears. This picture is from last year. The display has been added to since. I must get a new picture. I love the white tree on the left and the happy bears always make me smile.

Frogs

This is a pair of grey frogs surrounded by grey ignoring each other. I wanted to see how much of the detail I could capture in a grey on grey on grey picture without resorting to black and white. I like the way the picture turned out. Next time I might manipulate the frogs some but I didn’t feel comfortable doing so then as this wasn’t my garden. However, it does belong to my mother’s cousin so she probably would let me play with it.

Bugs

Here we have a bug couple (a couple of bugs). Look at the tiny detail on her shoes and what is he holding? Is it a flask? I see a green flask and a yellow love note. Again this Bug couple makes me smile. I love to take pictures of objects that make me smile.🙂

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“…the springtime of life isn’t a chain; it’s a pair of wings.”

~Sok-kyong Kang, “A Room in the Woods,” in Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton, trans., Words of Farewell: Stories by Korean Women Writers (1989)

“When a pair of magpies fly together / They do not envy the pair of phoenixes.”

~Lady Ho, “A Song of Magpies” (c. 300 B.C.), in Kenneth Rexroth and Ling Chung, trans., eds., The Orchid Boat: Women Poets of China (1972)

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Details

July 17, 2016 at 8:15 am (Blogging) (, , , , , , , )

Early Fall Frost

Photo Challenge: Details.

“Great Caesar, Wanda, eliminate. Eliminate detail and use the spaces produced to carry out design.”  — Wanda Gág, Growing Pains: Diaries And Drawings From The Years 1908-17 (1940)

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“Details make perfection, and perfection is not a detail.”  ― Leonardo da Vinci

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The Ten Dollar Quilt

July 10, 2016 at 8:15 am (Fun, Life) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

10 Dollar Quilt

This is my ten dollar quilt. I bought it for ten dollars when I lived In Weyburn, SK over ten years ago. It is starting to fall apart. There is wear and tear and holes I can’t mend.

It appears that it is an easy machine quilting pattern (see second picture).

10 Dollar Quilt - Center

The center is a plain flower with a white center and two types of petals. The borders are long rectangles sewn together. It is backed in spring grass green.

Borders

I bought it because I loved the black and white cow pattern border. I bought it because it was inexpensive and compact. It fits a child’s or twin bed.

I love it because it is light. I can use it in the summer or winter.

I love it because Lulu (my cat) loves it. She will only sit on my lap if I am covered with this blanket. As far as she is concerned, this is her blanket. It stays folded, when not in use, on a shelf in the tv cabinet and she will get all cozy in there for her naps.

I love it because it is full of stories. There is Lulu’s story. There is my story. There is the quilter’s story. There is the story of who the quilt was made for. There is the story of how and why the ten dollar quilt ended up at a second hand store.

There is always story.

Water & Rock

I am not here today. I am off chasing stories.

There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies that did not tell stories. —Ursula K. LeGuin

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity —Gilda Radner

 

 

 

 

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Coming Home

July 1, 2016 at 8:15 am (Memoir) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

It’s a busy Canada Day weekend here.

My hometown is celebrating it’s 95th birthday and is hosting homecoming.

The last homecoming I was home for was in 2005 when our province, Saskatchewan, turned 100 and New Orleans was flooding. In between homecoming events my sister & I discussed the effects of Katrina and wondered at the race differences that were so apparent in deciding who tells your story.

An old neighbour had a hand that year in telling Saskatchewan’s story.

Naicam Mural

And now it is Homecoming again. I am writing this post a week early because next weekend I will be busy hosting family and attending a historical homecoming.

The town I grew up in is small. The 2006 census gives the population as 690 persons. The town is about 6 blocks long and four wide. It sits in the middle of an expanse of prairie farmland.

I wonder how they survived it? My ancestors who came with nothing, worked extremely hard clearing bush and planting crops, raising children without the distractions of television and internet, and surviving when your nearest neighbour could be miles and hours away.

Why did they do it?

One side came from Scotland in the early years of the twentieth century. He was a grocer’s son. The other side came from Poland ten or so years before the second World War. His father had land.

Why did they do it?

How did they end up in such a desolate and wild country? I hope they came in summer and saw the beauty of a warm summer’s eve before they had to endure one of our winters.

I do love this place. I’m glad I grew up where I did. I just wonder a lot. I wander a lot. From here to there and back to here.

This Homecoming weekend, and whenever they will sit and listen, tell your children stories.

Wonder and Wander and come back home again.

Desolution 2012

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My Favourite Door

June 26, 2016 at 8:15 am (Life) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Stirling Castle_Gate

This is a picture of my favourite door. I took it at Stirling Castle in Scotland in May 2010. Though, technically, it’s more of a gate than a door.

Doors open and close. They invite in and lock out. The doors of my house enclose my cave. I wish I had less windows and doors in my house. I like the closeness of a cave. One entry in and out. This way you always know who is coming. Are they Friend or Foe?

Perhaps that is why I like this gate door because I can see through it. If you look closely, you can see there is someone there. I didn’t notice the someone when I took the picture. I only noticed later when I was able to blow the picture up. I was focused on the door. On the stillness of the door. On the aloneness of the door.

This is me: still, alone, hiding behind doors.

In memory of my Scotland trip here is a Scottish poem about doors.

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.

. . .

Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.

Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.

For the rest of the poem, go over to the Scottish Poetry Library.

Don’t be afraid to open the door.

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Everything Old Is New Again

June 19, 2016 at 8:15 am (Memoir) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Dinosaur

My father was a digital man in an analog world. He weren’t no dinosaur.

He was an electrician and tv repairman. He started his career working on army airplanes and ended it fiddling with computers. He loved taking pictures and capturing movement with film. He had his own dark room once.

Sometimes I wish he were still around. Sometimes I wish I had been braver when he was alive. There are so many questions I couldn’t ask. So many skills never passed on.

I didn’t grow up with my father in the same house as me. Out of the nine children he had I always knew I was not one of the favoured. He did what he could with the resources he had and as a father, he did it badly.

And every father’s day, I try to forgive him his shortcomings and remember the man he was.

 

Record Player

My father was a digital man in an analog world. He weren’t no dinosaur.

I am a late bloomer and a late adapter. I am cautious. I take my time. I hold my heart in. If I’m not a dinosaur than I’m a sloth. Slow, quiet, and protective of my vulnerable areas.

Gradually I step out of my comfort zone. Gradually I try something new.

In my house, right now, alongside the smart tv, DVD/VCR player, computers and Apple box is an old fashioned record player that I’m not sure how to hook up. My dad would know and if he didn’t he would get right in there and experiment.

I long for a good old fashioned stereo cabinet like my grandparents had.

I have a small collection of LPs and 45s that I hardly ever play. I have cassettes that I play on trips because I only have a portable cassette player. The only music storage device I’ve never had is 8-tracks but they were mainly used in cars and I’ve never owned a car.

All I’ve done is expand my world. I am both analog and digital. I’ve gone from books to ebooks, 45s to MP3s, VHS to DVD to iMovies. Where will it stop?

What will I do on that day when I receive the heart attack inducing words “file cannot be found?”

Thankfully, I’ll have analog files to access.

Record Player 00

My father was a digital man in an analog world. He weren’t no dinosaur but me, I’m happy to identify as such.

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