Crosschecking

I might have something more to post about Sue's birthday, but for today, I will post our latest sign photos. You all know the drill. A resident changes her sign several times a year, and Sue comes up with a way of using them in a photo op.

The current theme is hockey, for the town entered a cross-Canada competition called Hockeyville. We borrowed some of JJ's team sweaters, and posed.

We were forced to use a unique angle that hid some very bright reflections off the poster. I think it makes the composition more interesting, or at least a change.

In this ↓ photo, we assume the crosschecking position, which can result in a two-minute penalty if consumated on the back of an opponent.

You can see old, dirty snow in both photos. More snow fell yesterday, but it won't stick for long. Indeed, it was melting almost as fast as it fell. Almost: not quite though.

Milady

Milady is 76 years young today. She survived another year with me, and can still smile. To acknowledge the occasion, we went to a restaurant in Ottawa. The meal was free because we used a gift card from Christmas 2019. You may recall something about a little pandemic. Well we hibernated for quite a long stretch. We finally got around to using it yesterday, just a little more than 3 years later. Anyway, that's where I took the photo.

Snowdrops

I saw them posted by someone in town, but at the time, I didn't stop to see who the poster was or in which group. When I went back to find the pictures, I couldn't. FB can be like that.

Some 30 years ago, my dad had a couple of snowdrop flowers in a tiny garden space just outside his front door. I don't recall ever seeing snowdrops before or since. I see them in photos here and there but never in person.

But that person, whomever they might be, posted a photo from here in town. All I could see in the photo was a wall and a few flowers. But from another photo that they posted, I could see that they had been downtown just north of the bridge.

I dragged Sue down there on an overcast and slightly unpleasant day. I didn't have much hope of finding that little wall, but after a short while, I thought that I might have spotted something just a little way down a side street.

Sure enough.

It was in front of one of those old homes, the type without much of a front garden, but there was maybe a yard's width of garden between the house and the sidewalk.

Me being an elder, and neither the day nor the spot being appealing, I opted not to get down to ground level. I did have my telephoto lens, however, so from more or less a standing position, I squeezed off a few shots. Zoomed in as I was, some were on the fuzzy side, but two were not bad, especially the second one, below.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll get back there with my macro lens and this time lie on the sidewalk and try again. But they won't last long and were already on the wane, so probably not.

In the meantime, I have seen snowdrops once again and have the pictures to prove it.

morning stream of semi consciousness

Tuesday 6AM (to be posted Wednesday)

My third cup of coffee is brewing already. I normally consume only two cups, but when life pries me out of bed at 3 o'clock, I permit myself a third cup. I note in passing that these are closer to actual cups than mugs.

Life is a mystery to me. After two nights with 7 hours of sleep, one of them very close to the magical 8 hours, last night was a beast of a different colour. I couldn't seem to get to sleep for hours, and then I awoke at 3. So, here I am with seemingly only two hours of sleep although I suspect that there was some drowsing during the wakeful earlier hours.

The Belgian Chocolate coffee has brewed. Please excuse me whilst I doctor it with plenty of cream, which is my wont (ie: one's customary behavior in a particular situation).

I am tempted to make myself an egg muffin this morning, but I think we are out of English muffins. Nuking one egg for 45 seconds yields pretty good results. I scramble the egg in a wee bowl and add a little butter and shredded cheese first, before nuking.

. . . time passes . . . 

I did go downstairs, thinking of making the egg that I described with a crumpet. There were no crumpets, but Sue had found a new pack of English muffins. Just before grabbing the eggs from the fridge, I recalled that these are farm eggs. As such, they need to be washed before using. While I figure that I have the capability of washing an egg, maybe there is a protocol that I am not familiar with. Besides, who really wants to wash eggs when one is stumbling about groggily in the semi dark? As a result, I am consuming an English muffin with peanut butter. 

This is our first batch of farm eggs in quite some time. A fox rampaged our supplier's hen house, and it has taken her months to get new hens back to laying. I assume that the hen house has been well fortified in the meantime.

I usually don't have breakfast until after 9, even when I wake up early, such as at 5 o'clock, and I usually have healthy cereal, be it hot or cold. However, I throw all rules out the window when it is a 3 o'clock morning.

Being a thoughtful sort and Sue being sensitive to light, I don't put the hall light on when I rummage about in the morning. When I head downstairs, I use a portable light. Sometimes, it is the watch; sometimes, it is the phone. This morning I used my little flashlight — a penlight I think you call it. Something like this. →

Believe it or not, I don't think it throws as much light as the phone, but it's close. Who woulda thought, eh? It's definitely better than the watch, but the watch does throw enough light for the purpose of navigating the stairs. I would have used the watch this morning, but it was still in the bedroom on the recharging stand, and I didn't want to go back in there and possibly disturb Sue's slumber.

Maybe I'll cease this stream of consciousness, or rather semi consciousness drivel now and think about how to navigate the rest of the day. I guess my sleep deprivation doesn't really matter since really not much navigating will be required of me on this day..

That Was the First Day of Spring

As you all know, and as many of you have been posting, the sun reached the equator on its way north yesterday. Although we haven't enjoyed any of those wonderful, almost preternatural, warm early days yet, the temperatures have been rising somewhat. And . . . the light is brighter and lasts longer.

As a result, our snow pile out front s beginning to decrease. Earlier last week, we could only see the top of the 6 on our snow removal sign. Look at it now; despite the lack of noticeably warm days, we can see the full 613 area code.

That ↑ marker is on the north side of the snow bank, but look at the difference on the opposite side of our shared driveway – the side that faces south. Southern exposure makes a difference. 

We went for a pleasant stroll downtown. From the parking lot, I took a photo of the Moore House with a little bit of townhall behind.

The Moore House is an original log house that was once the home of one of the leading, early families. It was located elsewhere in town but moved to this spot more than a decade ago. It is now the office and salesroom of the Chamber of Commerce.

The first, official day of spring, was a good day, but I now hope that we also get one of those preternatural, very early warm days. It doesn’t occur every year of course, but I live with hope in my heart.

The Flag Question

Back in the summer of 2019, along with two photo friends, I climbed up the steep, rickety, wooden stairs inside the clock tower in town hall. We made it to an outside landing to about where the red arrows point.

There was a rooftop platform of sorts up there: unfenced and not completely horizontal. We had made that arduous ascension to take a photo similar to this ↓ one. We weren't there in winter but the viewpoint would be similar.

It was the town's 200th anniversary, and we three amigos were charged with taking photos comparing historical pictures to the present.

However, I experience a bit of vertigo. In addition to that, my somewhat lame foot causes me to feel a bit unbalanced. So I exited the rooftop tout de suite.

My two steeplejack friends stayed up there. Later, I composited one of their photos with the original for the town's memorial calendar.

So, why am I posting this four years later?

Well, it is because one of you recently asked how they change the flag way up there above the steeple.

I had never thought about it.

But then I did think about it.

If you squint on the right image of the first photo of this post, you can see a rope (or something) that comes all of the way down from the flag to the rooftop landing that I briefly accessed that day.

And that must be how someone would raise or lower the flag.

I just hope the rope is made to last for a very long time because swapping that out would not be for the faint of heart.

That certainly wasn't my favourite photo from the calendar. I like the following ones better.

Looking downriver

Bridge Street (ie Main Street) From the Queen's hotel

Looking upriver from the trail bridge toward town hall

It was a fun project in 2019. In the present, it helped me to answer how they change the flag. 

Quirky Siri Chimes In

A funny thing happened after Sue and I watched The Voice, a day late at Tuesday noon. No, it wasn't watching it a day late that was funny.

After the show, for some reason I started singing a funny song to Lacey, or about Lacey anyway: I sang "laceree lacerah" to the tune of The Happy Wanderer (play the video ↓ if you don't know the original).

The point was that I was just clowning around and belting it out.

Suddenly, Siri interjected from my Apple phone and started talking to me. And then she began to play music. I don't know how she got from my Laceree Lacerah (Happy Wanderer) to a song called Wine by a someone called Suran, but away it went, including some of that hip hop rappy type of stuff. To repeat: very weird.

It was just one of the quirks of life. Quirks make life interesting, but this was just one more bizarre thing to perplex my already addled brain.

Just after writing the above I happened to check FB and this ↓ popped up 

Yup, I think I must have invoked ghosts, even though I am a boomer and not a millennial.