A Very Weak Sun

After a terrific walk on Sunday that I posted about yesterday, Monday's perambulation was of the more miserable sort. Although the thermostat read warmer, the biting wind sure made it feel colder. Fair to say that the sun was weak.

Indeed, the day was dull.

Looking south from the trail bridge

Looking north from the trail bridge

As a bonus, I present another icicle photo from the much nicer previous day.

Blue Monday

Welcome to Blue Monday. No, I don't mean any ole blue Monday, I mean The Blue Monday. 

. . .  the folklore of calling the day Blue Monday came from a travel company, which encouraged people to take a holiday vacation during a normally quiet travel period. (Blue Monday 2026)

The third Monday of January has been referred to as Blue Monday, the bluest day of the year, by some since it was used as a marketing ploy by a travel company back in 2005. While there is no clinical evidence that this is the case, it does make some sense. To wit: the lights and festivities are long over while so many continue experience darkness and cold without much of a break from routine looming on the horizon, the single MLK day in the USA today notwithstanding. 

Yesterday's walk was anything but blue unless we are speaking of the very nice, blue sky. It was another cold and bright January day, but not as cold as my previous posting with temperatures not falling too very far below freezing.

We were passed by a number of snowmobiles on the Bridge Trail, but they came and went so fast that I couldn't extricate my phone in time to snap any pictures. I'd get the phone out too late and stuff it back in my pocket, but then another group would by, and I would miss again. Finally, I caught one when we off the trail but approaching it from underneath. I had no time to zoom, but at least I captured something, right where I wanted the snowmobile too — in the centre of the bridge.

A local FB group has been asking for ice photos. I found a few icicles on old buildings near downtown.

It was a good day, with no singing of the blues.

Après la Tempête

It wasn't the greatest storm ever, but it was great enough. So, what comes after the storm, après la tempête. Actually, it was all very normal out there. The roads were clear enough. Secondary roads like ours were snow-packed but drivable. Major throughfares were largely down to pavement.

I was slightly early to meet the photo boys for coffee, so I detoured up to the neighbourhood park. Unfortunately, not much snow was sticking to the trees, but there was a bit on some branches.

The same was true at Riverside Park, but there was some on the very distant trees by the boat house across the river. So, I stood on the road by the park, zoomed mightily, and got this.

I met with the lads for two hours, and then Sue and I went for a walk to our park after I returned to the fold.

Some good-hearted local denizen has blown a path though the drifts.
I don't know why the town won't do this for us, but
praise be for good-hearted neighbours

The temperature was hovering around -18C/0F. We just call it the Old Zero from being brought up in ancient, fahrenheit times. It's hard to explain to non-Canucks, but those are delightful walking conditions when it is bright and calm and when the snow is freshly fallen.

When we arrived back home, I took my first photo of the rising snow field on our front lawn. Many will recall that last year, the pile extended well beyond my 6' height. I don't have a reference marker, other than the stakes for the blower people, but it will do for now.

I haven't measured the two markers for the snow contractors,
but I think they are about 4' tall, and the snow in the
middle of the yard is approaching that height.

All Clear

Sue though she heard the snow guys just after one o'clock. I headed to the garage, hoping to clear the patch just in front before the blower got there. Alas, I was late.

He got pretty close to the door, so there wasn't much for me to clear.

Luckily, I did get my yearly shot of the blower in action. They more often than not come in the middle of the night or when I am not aware. The process is so quick that unless I happen to there with camera at the ready, they will be done and gone before I can react, even if I suddenly realize that they are there.

They took a little longer to get to the kids place, so we did a little messaging with them assuring them that the plow would be there soon. I often just speak my messages on the phone rather than type, especially if I am sitting down to watch tv. Note the spelling of plough/plow.

yes, the plough will come

That surprised me. While I use the British our and er endings, and while I dutifully double the consonants, I am a plow dude and not a plough guy. When I tried to explain this to the kids . . .  well you'll see.

I just noticed that when I dictated plow, I got the proper CANADIAN British version not the American version. But this time when telling you that I got the American version.

Poor spellcheck. Poor me. Poor little Canadians are we. 

I go out periodically to push the snow away from the garage and off the walk. I push it a little way down the driveway, for the plough/plow to blow off the driveway and onto the lawn. I took some night pictures that show the pile near the garage. I know it doesn't seem like that much, but recall that the driveway had already been cleared once already.

I did one final pushing at 11. Snow was no longer falling, and the driveway is clear this morning. They will return one more time if the town plows us in, but the plan to meet the boys for coffee this morning should come to fruition. I see that JJ gets another day off, and Danica doesn’t have classes on Fridays this semester. Shauna will still have her drive, but she'll be fine. 

When Johnny Met Susie

I had reason to delve into some old photos yesterday. This is from the day that Johnny first met Susie, or close enough although we sort of knew each other previously, but we travelled in different circles.

How odd that I am wearing sunglasses but that she is not although she does seem to be squinting. As you have witnessed, she usually wears sunglasses outside. Somewhere along our line of days, she became even more sensitive to light.

Update: Sue just informed me that when she was growing up, she always had to be sat with her back to the window during family dinners.

Fifty-nine years later, my sweet lady is yelling at me.

You see, it was time to dry out my hearing aids overnight, so I am having to recharge them this morning. Therefore, Sue must raise her voice considerably to be heard, and unless I am careful, I will raise my level too, just to hear myself. 

In other news, we are expecting a big snowfall today. Danica has opted to skip classes by not driving into the city. Shauna still drove the other way to work, but that is more or less along less-travelled rural roads, and she is also a more experienced driver and in a better car. We were to get our RSV shots this morning, but Sue has just called to cancel. Meanwhile, JJ will enjoy his day off as school buses have been cancelled.

This is what it looks like now, but it has just begun: front and back.

Spill the Tea

We live on the outskirts, if they can be called that, of our town, but we have now two cafés within walking distance of home. We are not connected to them the whole way by sidewalks, but we find out way to walk over there through the winter conditions from to time.

You are familiar with Dark & Deadly, at least you are if you have stopped your bus here at all in the past few years. It's the café with monsters that has now been open for a few years. While I haven't bothered shooting the monsters lately, I did bother to shoot Sue during our visit last week.

 Most of my photos of Sue seem to be across
the table in restaurants.

I rather like shooting Sue, which is fair enough because she frequently expresses a desire to shoot me, particularly when I spill or drop things in my ultra clumsy fashion.

A new café, Spill the Tea, has just opened in the Health Centre, which has also just opened recently. We trudged there yesterday through gale force winds, as revealed by the blowing flag. It was a bit of a tough walk, but we were drawn by the promise of yummy looking bagels, which aren't of offer at Dark & Deadly although yummy breakfast sandwiches are. We ended up ordering sundried tomato bagels. They were pretty darn good, and so was the coffee.

The sign in the hall and the view inside, which other than us was empty at the time. 

No monsters here. 

So here we are with a selfie and a Sue shot. It seems like 90% of my Sue photos are taken in restaurants. This is about as exciting as life gets on a dull, windy in the middle of January. 

By the way, did you know about the phrase, spill the tea? Milady informs me that it is now a euphemism for gossiping. Seems like a good name for a café and tea house.

Canadian, Eh

I wasn't going to bother posting today, but I thought this was a cute image.

This, about Canadian English, is truer than you might think, and for online spellchecks we usually have to choose between British and American. I tend to choose American, but then I have to verify when it tells me a spieling is wrong. Such spelling usually involves the doubling of consonants, as before an ing ending for example.

Photo Ops are sparse these days. This is a recent one, taken from the trail bridge before it traverses over the water. It is a colour photo btw; it has NOT been processed into b&w. Our Unmighty Mississippi River flows in the background.

Bearded Wonder

Norm was at the checkout just behind us. Quite frankly, he had a marvellous beard. Sue was so entranced that I thought that I would have to intervene before she invited him home for dinner. I feared that she would ask what night I might be out. ;)

While I think my beard is acceptable, by no means do random strangers stop me to express their approbation. Mind you, Sue's approval of my first beard when I was a tender 19-year-old was certainly positive reinforcement for continued porting of same.

At coffee with the boys this week.

That ↑ is about as long as I can grow my beard before it goes all gnarly. I did try to grow it more during COVID, employing special shampoo and  conditioner and ointment or whatever, but it just wouldn't work.

But Norm's beard is special. He can grow it without it beginning to run rampant.

Caturday 87: Ongoing Pawprints

After a light overnight snow, I stopped to take this photo before exiting the garage to head over to the kids on Christmas Morning.

Note the direct registering where the back foot
 lands in the same spot as the front foot

We are into our third decade in this place, and cats have been taking this same route for the duration as far as I can determine. They walk past the garage, up our little walk, and across the front of our house. I can clearly see this pattern on winter days like this, and I have been out on our enclosed porch in warmer weather while they have crossed by. I greet them, often startling the poor things.

While I say "cats," I presume it is only one cat at a time, but in over 20 years, it has had to be multiple cats in some sort of succession. The pawprints remain the same while the cats go marching on into the mists of time, and I find this satisfying in some way.

Scrounging for Photos

I have always posted plenteous photos on this silly, little channel. In autumn it is easy because colour is everywhere. But winter ain't so easy. While there are bright days and/or fresh snowy days, there are a many other days when the skies are grey and the snow is not exactly as "deep and crisp and even" as they were for Good King Wenceslas. But we do our best, and sometimes we can cobble together a post after a few days.

When we begin to cross the trail bridge over the river, we pass some vegetation while we are still over land. One day, I spotted some pretty, frosted leaves by the railing.

On another dull day, I took a couple of minimalist photos in the neighbourhood park.

This ↓ is the main bridge on main street with town hall just behind me.

And then there is Sue and her daily challenges that sometimes supply me with blog fodder. Yesterday, she was prompted to photograph something red through a window. As you know, I wear a red winter coat, and I have a red chapeau as well, so I became the subject. She shot through the front door wreath of me holding a shovel. Out of several attempts, I chose this one to post although she settled on a different variation here for her post.

We went downtown to look for other photo ops. There were several attempts here and there through various windows of various stores, but this one from town hall was the best of the lot although the wreathe photo did win the day.

I looked tiny in the ↑ photo, so I played with embiggening myself. The process replaced the balustrade (is that the word?) behind me as well, but I had to try.

I don't know what other photos I will have to share in the next little while, for we seem to be entering a typical, dull January Thaw period.

Have You Ever Played These Games?

Have You Ever Played Crokinole? Google must not have played because it doesn't recognize the name in spellcheck and won't even search for it directly. However, opening a search window separately did take me to this page, so it is not completely unknown

I have played the game; in fact, I have a photo of Sue and Shauna on the floor by the crokinole board one Christmas at my parents' house  —  in 1974, I think.

I don't know what happened to that board, but I wish we still had it. They are not inexpensive, but it would be a fun game at family get-togethers, or at least I think it would.

I would have last played it in the late 70s or early 80s. A couple from the church had a number of couples over for a crokinole evening. Each man played a game with each woman for a partner although I am not sure if we played with our own spouses.

At evening's end, it was calculated that I had the worst results amongst the men. I remember saying, "I couldn't find a good partner, and I played with all of them."

So that was it. I last played crokinole more than 40 years ago, but I remember it being a fun game and have been thinking about quite a lot as a possible family activity. It would be great to have a board again, but the price is an obstacle, and it wouldn't get much use.

Have you played? Do you still have a board?

We were, quite surprisingly, able to play another ancient game on Christmas Eve: Tiddly Winks.

Tiddlywinks is a fun game played on a soft felt mat where players use small, flat discs called "winks" and aim to flick them into a target called a "pot". The objective is to get your winks into the pot to score points. It is a Victorian children's game that involves launching these disks from a flat surface into the pot, similar to beer pong.

According to the quote, above, it is an old game, more of my dad's generation than mine. I believe it because I never played it much, but when I did play with my dad, he was clearly more skilled than I.

We couldn’t find the game, or at least not inexpensively, in town, but, of course, Amazon had it for a reasonable price. I ordered it but then saw that it would not arrive until January. However, there it was in or mailbox about a week later, all of the way from Germany if you please. 

I will now thrill you with a very brief Tiddly Winks clip from Christmas Eve. 

Not So Glory-ous

I step into the shower and hear Hark the Herald Angels Sing.

While puttering in the kitchen, O Come All Ye Faithful is playing.

I sit at the computer, as I am now doing, and I listen to It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.

I have recently heard Gloria in Excelsis Deo and one or two other carols that I cannot remember at this moment. Oh wait! One was Once in Royal David’s City. The non-carol, Onward Christian Soldiers, occasionally sounds its trumpets, as it were.

Sometimes I report the music to Sue, but she can't hear it, for these are my earworms, and they are playing constantly — incessantly. This doubtless indicates that my grip on sanity is slipping, and if that is not the case, it soon will be because the music is beginning to drive me crazy.

But wait! There's more!

This music is playing over top of or in harmony with my normal tinnitus. I have experienced tinnitus for a long time: something like a motor running constantly in the background. I cannot control this regular, typical tinnitus, but at least I don't always notice it.

But now with the overlaying earworm(s), it is harder to ignore.

The music drones on in the same frequency range as the normal tinnitus. Unfortunately, whatever the tune of the moment, it is more or less the same few bars that seem to repeat over and over and over again, ad nauseum.

Sometimes, however, the song changes. Last evening I informed Sue from time to time of my current song. At that point, they seemed to be shuffling fairly frequently. Usually, however, the same bits keep on repeating themselves. 

To some extent, if I concentrate, I can change the tune. I am doing it right now: from Hark to Faithful. Unfortunately, I cannot stop the music entirely. If I concentrate hard enough, I can stop it for seconds and just hear the raging tinnitus. Of course, I can't cease the usual tinnitus — ever!

Having said that, I just noticed that the tune has just now transposed from O Come All Ye Faithful to Once in Royal David's City. Don't ask me how or why.

First thing in the morning, I may enjoy some respite from the music and just hear the normal tinnitus sound. It's a welcome but temporary relief, for the music soon recommences its incessant droning.

When I go to bed, I am having to play a podcast in my almost deaf ears to try to override the music or at least take what passes for my mind away from it.

This is my life. When Christmas is finally over, it is my hope that this will abate, but I fear that is faint hope indeed.

One thing I should make clear is that if my mind becomes fully engaged in something or other, I don't hear either the music or the normal tinnitus. I assume that it is still playing but that my mind is being shifted to tv or just an absorbing task. Even now, writing this, when I become totally involved in thoughts and crafting words, I tend not to hear it, but the second that my mind is less engaged with the task at hand, the sounds resume noticeably. Then, it becomes like the tree in the forest question: If a tree falls in the forest but no one hears it, does it make a noise?

=========================

It is now Wednesday, January 07. What I wrote about ear worms, above, more than a week ago, remains the case — constantly, Oddly enough, once Christmas passed, my brain didn’t play the carols so much anymore. This morning, I am Standing on the Promises, over and over and over again. Apparently, this will be my life from now until the end — an atheist constantly playing church hymns.

==========================

For a lighter touch, just after finishing, I just came across this in FB. The caption read: Gloria …. in Excel Sheets.

The Snow Queen on Display

On September 23, I posted about Sue’s latest crochet project: a Snow Queen afghan  Three months later, on December 23, she was done, just in time for both winter and Christmas. 

Soon, she shall embark on a new throw: Tulips & Blossoms. The wool has been ordered although it hasn't arrived yet.

The link to the previous Snow Queen afghan post also shows previous projects if this interests you.

Lighthearted Monday

Except for gender this ⬇️ about daywear and nightwear is pretty much me: track pants and tee for both. For daytime, I add underwear and almost always a sweater or hoodie, at least in winter – well, underwear in all seasons.

The rest require no further comment. Enjoy your day, assuming that I am not actually ruining it for you with my attempt at humour. I know that my funnybone is not necessarily on everyone’s wavelength.  😇😎😉

I got an email the other day telling me how to read maps backwards Turns out it was just spam