Thursday, 15 December 2016

About those 2016 resolutions.


About those RESOLUTIONS...

If thinking about them counts, then yes, a modicum of effort was made to achieve them.

With Donald Trump 35 days away from taking his seat in the Whitehouse and America in turmoil, does any of it matter? No.
Merry Christmas.
Humbug!

Wednesday, 9 November 2016

Wednesday, 19 October 2016

Wednesday, 12 October 2016

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Friday, 4 March 2016

Adieu, February.


Adieu, February. In no particular order.

 
 

Taking this and all future birthdays as a vacation day—this is the best decision, so far
 
Indulging in an enormous Cake & Loaf hazelnut ├ęclair and having no guilt about it

A stranger speaks in an urban coffee-shop

Family Day spent with family

The Anger in Ernest and Ernestine at Soulpepper Theatre

Embracing winter tomatoes

A gift of Dillon’s gin

Revisiting Bleu—the French windows

Amateur mixologists

Sighting of one neighbour-the rest remain in hibernation

A Winter’s Tale at Coal Mine Theatre~conversing with strangers in a cramped lobby

The stamina to sit through a trial and listen to how your husband was probably shot at close range; his bone fragments vacuumed up out of the incinerator for you

15-degree temperatures

Karl Nordstrom

News of AbFab reaches us

Salvaged meatballs at the bottom of the soup pot—an enormous coup

Bulbous whales

Susan Coyne’s Kingfisher Days

Aberdeen Tavern luncheon

Tequila in the afternoon

Barns in winter light

Oysters

Cemeteries in winter light

…rotting plush of the rose bush...  BP Kelly

Harald Sohlberg

Worn granite

Festoon

“Are you recording this conversation?”

Brock’s blanket

Plant therapy

Cuttlefish

Red

Mr. Turner--what of the house-keeper?

Michael Winter’s Minister Without Porfolio~rooting for a fictional orange horse—willing it to bust out of that horse trailer

 

Spiced-chocolate pots & fresh cream

Crack of good chocolate

Molly Johnson with Mr. Botos at the piano

Spicy yellow-beet soup

Tank glassworks

Re-Reading bookstore

The farce that is the Primaries