Into the Hinterland

Shauna will be visiting her friends back in Sarnia for her summer hols, so she has decided to take some maple products as a hostess gift. It makes sense because our county styles itself as the Maple Syrup Capital of the province. The closest sugar camp, Fultons, is only about 20 minutes north of us. Sha does work for a living, and Fultons is only open for a few hours twice a week, so she asked us to run the errand for her.

Once we leave town we are soon into rural Ontario. There being an interesting sky, Sue wanted to stop for a photo, and I took one too, just for you folk. Look at the rough road, which caused a bit of a rattling ride for our car with non-viable shock absorbers.

Fortunately, the road soon became less bumpy although it remained gravelly.

Then, we saw a young deer just off the side of the road. We stopped at some distance for a photo, but after awhile, when it didn't bound off, we inched closer, so I got a pretty good photo.

We inched forward even more, and it remained in place.

We were actually the ones to move on, and soon, we came to Fultons.

A most pleasant lady greeted us.

We looked around and selected what we needed, mostly maple bbq sauce, before taking a somewhat less bumpy route home.

Orphan Photos 3

These orphan photos have been lingering for a little longer than I had thought: not terribly long, but I was surprised to see them still in my blogger queue.

You might recall my recent photos of the rainbow lights on the bridge. This nearby house caught the corner of my eye, so I strayed over for a better look. I love the lighting and the curving path. While I would have liked to get the whole doorway in the photo, I was already trespassing, so I didn't venture any farther.

On a walk with Sue by the abandoned factory, I photographed the window along with the alarm. It's an interesting juxtaposition, and I also like the vegetation emerging from the window.

A photo of failed expectations: no shifting this lot in that car.

While others were fishing for free without a license on Father's Day weekend, this lad found a quiet spot to check his phone. He was well-framed and in good light.

Someone asked to see the flowers on the silk lilac tree-bush that I recently posted about. When I walked back there for this photo, the fragrance was almost intoxicating. They are definitely not like regular lilacs, but they are just as fragrant or maybe even more if that is indeed possible.

I could go on, but I that is enough for now. I will likely return with more orphan photos in the near future. I do accrue photos at quite a rate after all.

Three Selfies and Three Hats

Wednesday, was a day for selfies and also for one cute photo of a marvellous ice cream vendor, Doesn't she look marvellously joyful?

We took that on our coffee walk, our third of the season, where we sip our coffee by the kids' play structure at the end of the walk. Ice Cream Lady had just served, a group of high school kids whom I think had just completed their final exam.  She told that she was off to a birthday party. Good for her. She's delightful, and she has created a pleasing business for herself.

While there, we took a selfie. Hey, it's been awhile, so we're allowed. Really.

A little later, I picked up Danica to drive her to work. Since we hadn't taken a photo at our Father's Day visit, we took one in the car.

Believe it or not, I also had to get JJ to work that afternoon, and since I had also missed an FD photo with him . . . 

I have realized that I wore three different hats that day, but the shirt was a constant.

PS: I stumbled onto Michelle’s Ice Cream Carnival Facebook page by accident later. 

Back and Front

Early-ish yesterday morning, I poked my nose into the easement, which desperately needs mowing. But there are flowers — erigeron aka fleabane — along part of the fence.

They are such pretty little things, and I can't bear to mow them down just yet. It's not that anyone really sees them back there, but I am still reluctant. On the other hand no one really sees the current mess either, so there's really no hurry.

Meanwhile, out front, the daisies are beginning to open. I am so pleased to have daisies again after a longish absence. I don't know why they failed previously, but I hope this plant flourishes for many a year.

There are only three flowers open now, but there are lots of buds.

Last Gasp for My Father’s Day Weekend

Danica had yet to pay her Father's Day respects. Yesterday, she asked me to drive her to an appointment, but first she wanted to visit with the old fella. She had me stop at Tims for coffee and muffins for the three us, and then we headed over here to consume the goodies and catch up.

After some talk, I opened her gift. She gave me a little composite photo of our past times together that she put together on Pinterest. The other gift was a very nice solar lantern.

Of course, the main gift was her thoughtfulness and presence. I wish we had taken a picture of her and,  particularly, of her with me, but we didn't. We're slipping, but at least she did think to take those two of me.

We hung the lantern and once darkness fell, I took photos of the it shining in the dark.

What Has it Gots in its Pocketses

When I first posted the Father's Day photo of me and dad, one poster noted the hands in pockets. Not only did both Dad and I have our hands in our pockets, but so did the much later picture of me.

One day in church back in that early-ish 1960s, a pastor chided me for standing around, after the service I suppose, with my hands in my pockets. He seemed to see it as a sign of indolence or disrespect.

I had never thought that and certainly didn't see myself as portraying anything but a causal disposition. I was puzzled but quickly removed hands from pockets.

So all of these years later, we can get quick answers about such concerns. To wit:

Whether having your hands in your pockets is considered disrespectful depends heavily on the context, the environment, and cultural expectations. While it is often just a casual or comfortable habit, it can be perceived as rude, unengaged, or overly relaxed in certain situations.

It can be see as disrespectful in Formal and Professional Settings, in Historical/Military Context, and also when Conversing with Superiors or Elders.

In many cultures, keeping hands hidden is strongly frowned upon. For example, in Japanese and many African cultures, it is considered deeply disrespectful and arrogant.

If I recall correctly, this pastor was of Irish descent. Other than that incident, I have never come across a hands-in-pockets difficulty.

When I am walking with Sue, more often than not I will hold my cane in my left hand and place my right hand in a jacket or pants pocket. I seems natural to me.

From Whence and Where

After my Father's Day post showing dad and me, more than one commenter wondered where my height came from. It's a jolly good question, Take a look at this photo.

That's me with all of my living family on my wedding day in 1969. Before we left for the church, I had a friend take a family picture: my uncle (left), mother and father. My dad was the tallest of the three at 5'4". Rounded up, my mother was 5'1" but her brother, my uncle didn't quite make 5'.

And there I am, looming in the background, an aberration at almost 6'2".

From where and whence came I?

My paternal grandfather was also diminutive, somewhat stocky but not tall. Granny may have been taller but it is hard to tell because she had a dowager's hump from polio. My maternal grandmother was certainly not tall. However, my maternal grandfather was somewhat tall, probably 5'10" or maybe even 11". That's my best guess anyway since I haven’t seen him since I was ten years old. 

My kids aren't short, but they are not giants, child 2 probably being 5'10". I should ask them. 

That has made me recall a recent dream about child 2 where they were definitely taller than I. Well, I have shrunk by 3" so we might actually be seeing eye to eye, as it were. I should ask them now, and then we should stand together for a photo when we next meet. They live on the other side on the country, so I don't know when such a get-together might occur. They had a visit planned just a month or so ago, but back problems threw a wrench into the works — their back issue and not mine on that particular occasion.