The Pile and the Power Station

After some warm weather but also, and more importantly, a prodigious rainfall, the snow pile out front, the one that has greatly concerned me, has diminished significantly in just one week. In twenty years, I have not seen such a drastic change in such a short time. 

One week ago, March 10: the huge pile had already dropped a foot, or perhaps two. It had been huge.

Now, a week later on March 17: many feet of snow disappeared over one week, probably more due to copious quantities of rain more than warm temperatures, although we did have those as well.

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When I posted this photo just yesterday, I mentioned that there was a power plant just off the photo that took advantage of the waterfall and produced hydro electricity.

I forgot that I had also taken this ↓ photo of said power station from the other side. I hadn't ever seen the excavator up close and was mildly surprised to see that it is affixed to a very short rail track.

Excavator behind the power station

Of course, the excavator must be there to dredge the channel (left) to keep the water flowing in volume through the power station to produce the maximum amount of electricity. 

There is also a second power station off to the right and down at the bottom of the drop. We once had an impromptu tour of it with the grandkids. I am fairly sure that I once posted of that tour, but my keyword search came up empty.

Going to Almonte

Oops, before we move onto the blather of the day, I feel it necessary to correct some impressions about the Canadian pizza from yesterday's post. Although we call a bacon + peperoni + mushroom pizza the Canadian, it does not have Canadian bacon, just regular bacon. In point of fact, we do not call that kind of bacon Canadian; up here, we call it peameal bacon. And I don't know about the rest of the Canucks out there, but we never have peameal/Canadian bacon.

None of this matters, of course, but I thought it was worth mentioning in passing.

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Onto the topic du jour.

The bathroom sink wasn't holding water, so I referred the problem to Madame Sue because she had already demonstrated that she was familiar with how the stopper pluggy thingie worked. When she pulled it out, there seemed to be the scanty remnants of a washer. Long story short, we drove to Almonte (silent e) where she found washers at Home Hardware.

She got the washer in place and used her pliers as a prop  in one of last weeks' purple themes: two birds with one stone, as it were  

While in Almonte, I took some photos of the waterfalls. They aren't my first or last photos of the falls, and probably not my best, but it was nice to pick up the camera again while also walking in a different place. We've been pretty restricted in town lately with the trails, apart from the bridge route, being very rutty with difficult footing.

I also did a b&w conversion of the first falls photo, which I think that I prefer over the original version in this case — think, not sure. Opinions?

Photoshop can now remove distracting powerlines on command. I tried it with good result but thought that they deserved to be in this photo, since there is a hydroelectric power plant just off the left of the photo. There are actually two power plants associated with these waterfalls. 

I should return sometime with my telephoto lens and focus on little bits of the scene. Meanwhile, Sue had already done that with her new, super duper telephoto-enabled iPhone, although this one is more ice than water.

Same but Different

The more things change the more they stay the same.

T-shirts from long ago, from daughter’s trip to Southeast Asia.
She claimed that “Same same but different” was a common expression there. \

What "stayed the same" on Thursday evening was that we ordered pizza from the same place, and it was the same order as usual:  large pizza, regular crust, Canadian (Canadian being bacon, peperoni and mushrooms, which I doubt extremely that other countries call Canadian). 

It had been several months, perhaps more than three since we last ordered. We have tended to order once per month or so as a little treat, but we've been behaving ourselves with food consumption. However, two slices of pizza are not terrible, so we I relented capitulated to my cravings on Thursday.

Dinner and an episode of Shakespeare & Hathaway

So far it was all the same: same place, same website, same order. But, there were changes too. The website had a different look and did not immediately recognize me or give me the opportunity to duplicate my previous order which is how I've done it for ever so long. The necessary free pop was no longer on offer. (I am not sure if this is good or bad, for, previously, we were obliged to take a soft drink, whether we wanted one or not.)

When the pizza came, it was also different. The regular crust was thinner than before, more like the previous thin crust but crispier. The bacon was not as well done as it had been. I worry about bacon after having had one bad experience, but it turned out that it was cooked well enough. In point of fact, I rather like bacon that way. So, this new version of the pizza was very good — good but different.

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

(Picking Margaret's brain, I think this is the en francais equivalent phrase
to my introduction at the top of the post.)

Caturday 80: Brat Cat

She had been sitting in the hall in the late afternoon with beautiful rim light from the westering sun coming in through the bedroom window behind her.

I saw her from my den, but my phone was in that bedroom, so I went across to get it.

Of course, she turned around to follow my progress, so no rim light, but she was now well lit, frontally.

I took a picture. but there was a lot of background.

I moved closer to focus closer on Lacey, but she moved Lacey away, so the one photo will have to do. Bad cat! Brat cat!

That was Wednesday

There was beeping on our watches. When we got home, there was this image and message.

Watch out!! He’s got his G1!

Watch out, indeed. The boy is now permitted to get behind the wheel, under supervision, of course.

There was a second beep.

It was also a big day for me. I’m officially back to being Shauna Rayner.

After more than twenty years, Shauna reclaimed her original name. It is only a name, but for some reason it pleases me. I am not sure if most women still adopt their husband's names, but Shauna originally did it to have the same name as her kids when they were growing up and in school. Danica is in her last semester and JJ will be a senior, so Sha decided it was time to change it back.

She also announced in on FB.

Sue and I had been out for our daily hobble. She had hoped to use the new telephoto capabilities on her phone to take pictures of the trumpeter swans, which we discovered are still hanging about. We did find a small group but could only see them through branches and at a distance, and they were just sleeping. Better luck next time.

Not the very best sightlines

From just about the same spot, I took a photo of a lonely bench with the river in the background. The snow around the bench has melted, but there is still plenty of ice and snow out on the river.

Another nice and unexpected happening was that of coming across the geese. They have arrived in numbers. We must have passed hundreds at the eastern end of the park, but there was another, smaller gaggle at this western edge. I took a very short video, just to capture their honking.

So, whilst we had been shuffling along prosaically on a dull day, changes were occurring. JJ got his beginner's permit; Shauna got a name change; and. the geese arrived in honking numbers. That is almost not to mention that the snow by that bench had melted away, but that is also a pretty good thing.

Ancient Baby Pictures

While I disappoint myself with my general ennui with regards to my own photography, or lack thereof, after recently posting of Sue's work, at least I am continuing to scan old slides. It is a bit time-consuming because they are not great quality images. However, they are precious, and so I nudge them here and there in edit in an effort to show them at their best, or as well as possible at least. Sometimes, editing results in me turning a horribly coloured image to b&w.

Here are a few of our baby daughters.

Shauna, the oldest, was born in 1972, almost at year end. I shot slides back then because printing was pretty expensive  

Allyson came along six years later in 1978 on the day of my 31st birthday. A guy doesn't often get a present like that.

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She older in this picture, but I loved coming across it and seeing how thrilled she was with her new Hot Wheels?

Mentalcaps

Do any of you have handicaps, or perhaps I should  write mentalcaps? Is there something that your brain doesn't process as well as most brains? I might have many mentalcaps, but I am thinking of one in particular this morning.

I seem to have a perceptual handicap in that I lack the ability to picture things that are not physically there in front of me. It’s not that images don’t float through my brain, say when I am reading or daydreaming, but I can’t fix on them.

I often try to have a short nap in the afternoon. It sometimes works, but they are always brief, about ten minutes if at all. It is in the stage where I am beginning to nod off that my brain sometimes presents me with a very clear image. I tend to see strangers, people whom, as far as I can tell, I've never known or even seen. They are suddenly and inexplicably present in my head.

On a recent day, I clearly saw an elderly woman, like no one whom I could  recognize, It took her a few seconds to resolve clearly, and then I could see her in detail. But as I began to say to myself, “Oh let me have a good look at this woman whom I can see clearly,” she began to dissolve. As soon as my conscious minds interfered, the picture started to fade around the edges, and she was soon all gone, and I could not bring her back.

On another day, my vision was that of a different lady. She was mature, pleasant and more middle-aged. She soon faded too.

In both cases, I could tell you more than I have about what I saw, but even as the image remnants pass through my mind, the details fade. The older lady was gray-haired, the younger blondish. The first was sitting, the second standing. The first was pale (I might have even seen her in black and white) while second was rosy-cheeked, wore glasses, and was standing.

As you can see, the visions are powerful enough to leave impressions even though I can't recount too many details for you. Once again, the harder I try, the more difficult it is to visualize them again. Otherwise, they might temporarily float by in a certain amount of detail. It's hard to explain, and I am doing it poorly.

I guess it makes sense that I am a more of a visual learner, but even when the parts are there for me to see, I may not see clearly how those parts fit together. This makes me a poor handyman. Once I realized this about myself, I pretty well gave up and left it to others. Sue can put things together much better, and we can hire out for other jobs. And don't ask me to draw something without a picture in front of me, not that I can draw well in any case, but I don't stand a snowball's chance without a reference.

Somehow, I have managed life despite this limitation, and I suppose that most of us are limited in some way. For example: I have probably known three guys in my life who could simply not carry a tune in  bucket. That must be frustrating, and I am glad that I can at least do that — not well and not in a way that anyone would want to listen, but I can more or less at least land near the notes, or I could at one time before my voice became a little less reliable.

Do you have a limitation that limit you to some degree? Can you sing? Draw? Do arithmetic? Spell? Organize? I imagine that you can read and write well enough if you're here, but some struggle mightily.