Pointless photographic philosophy. Yeah, I know.

I've been less than inspired on the blog lately, and I know it. Unfortunately, I don't predict a change in the general trend today. Maybe we should all just put our faith in July.

Tomorrow's Calendar Flipping Day, after all.

And no, I'm not going to explain the significance for those new to the program.

----------

Today's pointless photo features the rocks that surround my father's pond. Oh, and there's a spider in there somewhere as well. A Thin-legged Wolf Spider of some sort or other. She's carrying an egg sac, if you're wondering about the odd-looking abdomen.

You were, you know. I could just tell.

I like spiders (I bet you couldn't tell). I think they're great, and they make for good pointless photography. Erm... if there is such a thing as good pointless photography.

You've probably noticed that I like to take photos of flowers and plants in general, but I like the photos even better if they include spiders or, failing a convenient spider, insects. It's added interest, as far as I can tell. I mean, a person can take countless pictures of neat-looking flowers or leaves (and Whomever knows that I certainly do) and admire the shapes or patterns (that's what you're meant to be doing, by the way), but if you take a shot of the same flower or leaf with a spider on it you've got yourself a story.

Well, you do. Don't you?

An animal on a plant (and, incidentally, one of my pet peeves is when otherwise intelligent people say "animals and insects" as though an insect isn't an animal. It's not a warm, fuzzy animal, true, but it's still an animal. If you mean mammal when you say animal, then fergodsake SAY mammal) is on that plant for a reason. It might be hunting, it might be looking for shelter, it might just be sitting there for a moment... but it's there doing something. Seeing an animal on a plant reminds you (ok, reminds me. I honestly can't say what it does for you) that there are more things going on in the world than we often realise. There are systems. Dependence. Activities that we're altogether too good at ignoring.

Plus, it looks nice.

There's a very attractive functionality in your average spider or insect sitting on your average plant. You can tell things about how the animal works just by looking at its body part shapes (hooray for comparative anatomy!), and if the plant's a wild plant you can tell what it's looking for in a pollinator by looking at the shapes and colours in the flower.

In the case of a cultivated plant, you can see how much we humans can eff things up for our own amusement through selective breeding. Not quite the same ecological message there, but it's still entertaining.

Ok, so I realise that not everyone's going to look at one of my pointless photos and see all of that. I call the things pointless for a reason, after all. And really, the photos don't always have that much going on in them anyway. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and sometimes a pointless photo is truly pointless. There's a pretty high percentage of gee, that looks kind of cool in what I post here. Every once in a while, though, I sneak in something that I think has a little bit more than that.

The trick is in finding that little bit more.

And it's not like I give hints or anything.






Hey, I'm allowed to have some fun, aren't I?

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As is boring normal for me, I (and my farmer tan from yesterday. I generally get a pretty good farmer tan from work, but yesterday's excursion has made it a real doozy) won't be anywhere near a computer for the stat (that'd be tomorrow, for those not of the Canadian persuasion). Try not to miss me too much.

Poke the Toronto office with a stick if you're desperate for new reading material.

Just don't tell her that I was the one who said you could do it...

Cranky

Woke up too early.

I have a headache.

It's going to be hot today, and I have to be outside.

Would you like me to elaborate on any of that pointless whinge? Yeah, I didn't think so. Even if the too early wasn't terribly early or the headache is just a small one that would go away if I'd get around to taking some acetaminophen or... well, the hot part is still going to be hot.

Hot makes me cranky.

So does cold.

So do most things, come to think of it.

So does this song on the internet radio. 'Scuse me a second.




Actually, why not 'scuse me for the rest of the day since I obviously don't have anything non-cranky to say? Sounds like a good idea to me. See you tomorrow.

Pointless pictorial essay of the day:

The Toronto office kindly made it unnecessary for me to blather today, so I won't. I will, however, introduce you to my father's rose bush.

Actually, you've already met my father's rose bush. It's the subject of a fair amount of pointless photography in this yard. You might not know why, though, so let's go into that a bit.

The rose bush is an old-style, no-idea-what-species transplant from my grandmother's yard. It's the type of thing that makes me wonder why people bother with fiddly hybrid tea roses. It grows like a weed, is very hardy, and has incredibly fragrant flowers.

It's also pretty much an ecosystem unto itself. The invertebrate life (read: insects and spiders) that calls the thing home is pretty diverse and, to a nerd like Yours Blatheringly, endlessly fascinating. As a result, between the creepy crawlies, the complex flowers, and the wonderfully textured leaves I spend a lot of time pointing the camera at this particular rose.

Here, then, is a look at some of what I found today. Today being a hot, sunny day so the photos aren't great... but they should at least give the idea. Click on the pictures to enlarge them.

That's assuming anyone wants to enlarge them, of course.

If you don't want to enlarge them, don't click on the photos.

I't's just that easy...

Elongate Long-jawed Orb Weaver camouflaged on young leaves

Bumblebee

Some spider or other on a leaf. Aren't those great leaves?

Harvestman. This one's fuzzy (the photo, not the harvestman) but it was the only shot I had.

Find of the day. That's a Goldenrod Spider finishing off a hover fly. And... erm... that's my father's hand helping me get the photo.

Another angle for those who wanted it. Hey, I can pretend that someone wanted another angle, all right? Shut up.

That's it from sunny Alberta. Stay tuned for tomorrow's post, when I probably won't have anything worth looking at. That's the usual pattern, anyway.

How very alliterative of me

The photo, yes.

Note that it was taken under certain weather conditions and that it was taken with the flash purposely tucked away. Oh m'gosh, we can be artistic when giving things half a thought ... or, you know, by happenstance; hence the disclaimer.

I didn't think you'd believe it was intentional but it was, darn it.

Just another quick observation for today: there comes a time in one's life, apparently, and I'm not quite sure when this corner was turned, when others decide to discuss intensely personal issues. I've lately learned of a husband's symptoms as he's beginning his journey through Alzheimers, heard about a financial set-back - in great detail mind - along with a few other things from various people.

I would prefer to be placed at the kid's table with no concerns, please, as these are neighbours who until recently have discussed only important issues like what I use to make the garden so full and bright; these are not people like the Alberta office with whom I happily discuss the deep meanings of Life - or, you know, what I use in the garden ....


Oh and a wee note to Mother Nature: a clap of thunder over the house at 5:45 a.m. that would compete with any sonic boom, can make a person ... cranky. I had my alarm set, you know.

That is all.

What do you want from me? Pointlessness?

Well, ok then. I can do that.

Pointless item one: Why would anyone take a photo of the back of a begonia flower? I'll tell you why. I thought it looked neat.

Pointless item two: This is far too addicting. You've been warned.

Pointless item three: Arctostaphylos uva-ursi is one of my favourite scientific names. Should I tell you why, or leave it for you to figure out? Erm... maybe I'll leave it for you. It'd do you some good to work your googling skills. I'll give a hint, though. It doesn't have much to do with the plant itself. It's the words that I like.

Pointless item four: I'd just like to let the Toronto office know that there are other things to eat at a sushi restaurant besides raw fish. The raw fish is good too, though.

Pointless item five: There is no reason for this link to be here. It is anyway.

Pointless item six: There is noooo... rule six.





Yeah, I'm out of stuff. I'll try to be less pointless tomorrow.

Of course, if I do that the blog will turn into a pumpkin.




The thought makes it almost worthwhile, really.

I was such a dweeb

I was on my way - where else - to the park with the dogs the other day and spotted a critter much like the one to the left on the paved easement between the streets. Rather than have him trampled, I picked him up and moved him off to a grassy happyland.

Then kicked my butt for not taking a photo first because he was completely extended and the shell was squarely in the centre. Ah, yes, a great nature shot ... if you like slugs.

Anyyyyyway, this little dude lives in our backyard I guess, as I found him climbing on the wheelbarrow. It will be interesting to see what sort of work he intends doing with that.

I guess it will take quite a long time to see the results.

Of course, the joke about the critter back on the easement: geez, lady, it took me 18 days to get this far.

And yes, it was obvious someone was going to say it and since it's too humid to blather on about anything else - oh wait, I just talked about the weather! - you get the photo, the post and the punchline delivered all in one tidy package.

Pointless photo and that's all from me of the day:

Pointless spider photo of the day:

There have been far too many "pointless" entries for June, as I see when I look at the sidebar list.

Ah well. June is almost over, so we won't have to look at the list for much longer.

I'm completely not in blather mood at the moment, so I don't think I'll bother. I will, however, tell you that today's spider is a small Jewelled Araneus or Jewel Spider, and it's having lunch. It'll get much bigger.

The spider, that is. Not the lunch. I think the lunch was pretty much beyond getting bigger by the time I took the photo.






Yeah. Just as well I don't continue the blather, really, if that's as good as it gets today.

Completely not pointless links of the day:

And some pointless beetle porn just because. Gotta love an orgy.

I was going to make this post approximately seven carefully chosen words long, but since I get the feeling that every second blogger in cyberspace will be doing that exact thing let's do it this way instead:

Watch this.
And this.
And this.
And, of course, this.

And if you're still not getting it, watch this.

I'm not going to eulogise George Carlin. There are plenty of people doing that already. All I really want to say about him is that he was very much the first... let's say adult comedian that I was aware of, and one of the few who make (make, present tense, yes. The nice thing about living in the video age is that his routines aren't going to die even if he has) me think as well as laugh.

I'm not going to say that his death was a shock, but not being a shock doesn't make it suck any less.

And if anyone wishes I was ending on a more upbeat note, just do me a favour and go back and watch more of the man himself. It's better than anything I could come up with.




Oh, one more thing just to say I did:

Motherfucker.







That is all.

Sh...

You'll disturb the spider.

Or the pointless spider photo, maybe.




Ok, seriously, the title has nothing to do with the photo. You do, however, have to be careful when attempting to photograph jumping spiders with an autofocus camera. The spiders have decent eyesight, you see, and they try to follow your movements. Makes it hard to get enough time for the camera to actually focus.

And yes, I do realise that none of you really care about any of this.

----------

Now, about speech impediments. That's what the title's really about, you know. Speech impediments, or more specifically my speech impediment. I have one... or did have, when I was younger. It still shows up when I'm tired or distracted, but it's not a regular part of my life anymore.

It never was an especially important part of my life anyway, but I'm kind of lacking in blog fodder at the moment so this is what we're stuck with.

When I was a kid I had trouble with sh. Not so much when it was the initial sound, but if it came in the middle or at the end of a word I was hopeless. Fish to me was fiss. And if a word had both an s-sound and an sh-sound in it, I pretty much gave up. Or at least didn't bother giving it one of each sound.

The reason this comes up, incidentally, is that the internet radio just played a Josh Rouse song and it occurred to me that I'd probably trip over that name a little bit even now.

Does it bother me?

No, not really. I'm not entirely sure why I even brought it up, to be honest.

Do you suppose it affected who I am at all, though? Where I'm going with this (and since I only just now decided where I'm going with this I may not get too far) is that I realise that people with serious speech impediments can, and often do, suffer other effects like severe shyness or equally severe frustration. Which can lead to other things... I don't know, maybe you should google it for yourself instead of listening to me blathering on about something that I don't know too much about.

Anyway.

Can a minor thing like an sh problem have other effects, then? Did it change me in ways that I might not be aware of? When I say it never really bothered me, I'm speaking (or typing) the truth. I don't remember being teased about it or having any kind of speech therapy (although I might have. Not remembering doesn't prove that it didn't happen). I do remember my parents gently encouraging me to say things like dish instead of diss, but I honestly don't recall it ever being made a big deal.

Maybe they were told I'd grow out of it.

After all, I did. Mostly. All that's left are the remnants, and it's not exactly the end of the world to me if I accidentally turn an sh word into more of a tongue twister than it needs to be every once in a while.

It's no different than having to think heel, toe when I walk.

Erm... I do that too. Long story, and no doubt you'll hear that one another time when I'm whinging about my ankle. Notice the when as opposed to if. It'll happen. It always does.

But does any of this stuff that I consider minor childhood annoyances have an effect on who I turned out to be, do you think?

Obviously I don't know, or I wouldn't be asking the question.




And on that unresolved chord, I think I'll stop blathering now. You can add a cadence yourself if you're so inclined. That's why there's a comment link, after all.

Literally pointless iris photo of the day:

Well, I don't think there are any points in the photo. Maybe I'm wrong, but I needed the word literally in there somewhere and that's the way I chose to do it.

Incidentally, I think that this might be the last iris photo for a while. I have others, but even I'm starting to feel the monotony at this point. Or pointless, as it were.

----------

Now, about literally. The other day I was informed by the newsreader on that Canadian show that airs in the morning (what's it called, again?) that a river in the US was literally bursting at the seams.

"Wow", my morning brain and I thought. "I didn't know that the Americans sew their rivers up. Must be quite the needle to manage that trick. Up here in Canada we just let our rivers wander around naked. No dresses for them, no. I imagine that they feel a bit underprivileged compared to their cousins in the south."

Ok, so I'm not trying to make light of the very serious flooding going on in the American midwest. I'm just wondering how many news producers it takes to look up the meaning of the word literally. It didn't help, of course, that the same script was used for each newsbreak so I was treated to literally the same literally mistake three different times before I left to go to work.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for language usage evolving. I've said before that part of the reason I'm fascinated by language is that it does evolve to fit evolving conditions. Language has to change; if it doesn't, it dies. And as interesting as dead languages may be to the specialists (or the mental magpies like Yours Blatheringly), they aren't terribly useful.

However, accepting that language usage changes doesn't mean I can't cringe when I hear an otherwise intelligent person tell me that she literally couldn't put a book down (glued to your hands, was it?). Want to make it even better? Tell me that she literally couldn't put the book down because it was the most unique thing she'd ever read.

I'd probably rupture an aneurysm.

Meanings change, yes. Meanings even completely reverse... or nearly. Remember absence makes the heart grow fonder? Fond used to mean foolish. Personally, I think that knowing that fact means the proverb makes more sense, but then I'm nothing if not jaded.

Erm, anyway. Yes, I accept that language usage changes. And I grudgingly accept that literally is becoming a general intensifier and that unique doesn't really mean a bloody thing nowadays. I accept it, but acceptance doesn't mean that I have to like it.

After all, I accept that it costs me twice as much to fill my car's tank as it did ten years ago. I don't exactly rejoice about it, though.

Ah well.

I was going to say more, but I'm having a pretty bad day for typing accurately. I'd expect that I'll be editing this a few dozen times as it is. For now, though, if you're looking for more (should I say literally looking for more?) you could try this or this.

As for me, I need to put the next load in the washing machine.




Well, not literally need...

Pointless iris photo of the day:

I hope the different colour wasn't too much of a shock for anyone.

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I really don't know what to do with the blather today. I had thoughts yesterday, but today I decided to have a headache instead. One of those annoying headaches that start juuust after you're nicely awake, so you're teased with a few minutes of feeling all right when you first get up and then whammed with the reality of the situation when you actually try to do anything.

Things like that tend to make me cranky, you know.

And if the Toronto office starts making vaguely Greek-wedding-sounding noises in the background, ignore her. It did NOT get that far, no matter what she might tell you.

Anyway.

The acetaminophen kicked in about halfway through the morning, thank goodness, but I'm still feeling off my game.

Whatever my game is.

I'm thinking that at the moment my game should probably be to get back to work...




Yeah, the type until something resembling a topic approach to blogging doesn't seem to be doing much, so I think we've probably hit the you say tomato, I say tomahto point of this pointless post.

And yes, I do know that I've misquoted the song. I just don't care.

Much.






Oh, go and watch the clip already.

Pointless iris photo of the day:

I don't have time for anything else today.

I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not really.



This lack of post was brought to you by Truth in Blogging. It's a rare bird, but it's spotted occasionally.

And sometimes... it's striped.

Oh, come on. You had to see that one coming.

Pointless iris photo of the day:

This'll probably be short and whiny.

Kind of like me.

It's been a day. An unexpected program in the morning (which, to be fair, went well. Still, unexpected is unexpected by definition), and a helluva program in the afternoon. I've been rained on, I've spent far too much time yelling at far too many kids, and I'm tired.

Incidentally, I don't normally yell at the kids. Ok, so I yell to the kids sometimes because volume is my specialty, but I don't normally yell at them. I feel kind of badly about yelling at them, but the teacher didn't seem to feel badly about it at all.

Therein lies the problem, and I don't think I'll elaborate.

It's only Wednesday, right?




Damn.

Anyway, the sky is making enough noise out there that I should probably just post this whinge now rather than going all blathery and ending up losing part of the blather because I've had to shut things down quickly.

Believe me, you likely wouldn't want the hear what I have to say at this point anyway.

I'm not sure I'd want to either.

Pointless iris photo of the day:

I told the Toronto office she'd have to blog because we were without internet for the morning, but it's back now so here I am.

Here I go, as well.

Now that the internet is back I have many other things to get to, so the post will be largely blatherless.

Which means, I suppose, that if the Toronto office had anything to blather about there's plenty of leftover space in today's blather allotment.

Or whatever.

I'm going now.

Pointless iris photo of the day:

As promised.

That'll be it, as well. I'm having a totally non-functioning brain day, to the point where I'm planning to go home after this and be non-functioning there instead of taking up space in the office.

Gotta love uselessness.

A purple flower

I see the Toronto office has beaten me to the punch this morning with some upside-down goldfinches. Ordinarily I'd say well, that's one less thing I have to bother with and go merrily on my way, but since I did have a bit of something to say for a change I thought I may as well start off Iris Week anyway.

And why Iris Week?

I was going to blame the upside-down finch lady, but the fact is that my father's irises are blooming right now and I'm ever so slightly fascinated with the shapes you can find in irises. So this week it's all irises all the time.

Unless there are more upside-down finches. That's ok too.

And before anyone wonders why I'm starting Iris Week with such a lame photo, all I can say is that I like the backlighting so there nyah.

Why yes, I am five years old.

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I read a book this weekend. Now, the time was that it would be more than unusual for me to say that I didn't read a book this weekend, but for a number of reasons the book reading has tailed off in the past couple of years. There are only so many interests one person can take care of at a time, I suppose, and since books are a fair bit less ephemeral than some of the other things that occupy my brain they got put on the shelf for a while.

Er, so to speak.

I'm a little sad about that, to be honest. I've been a book reader for as long as I've been able to read, and I was reminded EVERY SINGLE BIRTHDAY for the larger part of my life that I always wanted to be a reader.

Should I explain that last part?

Well, it was a favourite tease of my mother to recall me at four and a half coming home from the first day of kindergarten, standing there with my hands on my hips, and refusing to ever go back again because all we did at kindergarten was play and what good was going to school if they didn't teach you to read?

I personally don't remember any of this, but I've had it recreated for me often enough that I choose to believe it.

Anyway.

I still read a lot, but over the years my reading has moved from the pure entertainment of fiction (I was a huge science fiction fan back in the day) to slightly more brain-stretching classic books and poetry to a pretty steady diet of non-fiction. Work-related, mostly, although I'll look up books on almost any subject if there's a flicker of interest somewhere in the intellect.

What can I say? I'm a magpie. I like to pick up bright shiny ideas and admire them for a little while before putting them down and looking for something else to play with.

Oh, and if anyone's feeling sorry for me about the work-related reading, don't. Work-related reading in my field is actually -- or at least usually -- interesting.

To me, at least.

The result of all of this, by the way, is that if anyone asked me to name the last recently written (meaning within the last... oh, let's say fifteen years. Although with my normal reading patterns you'd be safe to say one hundred years) work of fiction I'd read it would really be a head-scratcher for me. Yeah. In fact, I can name only two in the past five years. One that my brother gave me (and, considering that it was by an author that I never would have thought to read at all, I found surprisingly enjoyable), and one that the Toronto office recommended as being suited to my sense of humour. She was right, but even at that it took me months to remember to go out and look for it.

Not so much for the modern fiction, Yours Blatheringly.

Which is why it was unexpected that the book I added on a whim to my latest order from the Internet Book Company Which Does Not Need Free Advertising From Me was opened before the DVDs that were the real reason for giving them more money (what can I say? I only got the book to get the most from my free shipping...). Not only was the book opened before the DVDs; it's also already finished. It lasted less than thirty-six hours, in fact, and that's without making an absolute marathon of the read.

Now, granted, it was a not-terribly-taxing and an entertaining book. Not exactly a huge feat for me to have finished it so quickly. That sort of thing just hasn't happened for a long time, that's all.

Maybe it should more often.

Used book store, anyone? I think that it may be time for me to start making them a regular part of my existence again.

Before I go, another iris. A yellow iris.

Because I can.

Nyah.

Upside-down to whom

Yes, it really does work. You'd think there are people out there, manufacturers even, who know more than I do about these things. Well, okay, there are a triple-gazillion people out there who, etc.

And if you question the different slant on things, you can indeed see the silver cap at the top of the page which indicates the hungry bird is indeed on his head to feed.

I'd say within ten minutes of putting this one up, I had two finches begin the feast. What has always intrigued me - and yes I really mean that - is how do they KNOW it's fresh meat, as it were.


The same thing happens when I fill my birdbath. They ... just ... know.



Rather than have you roll your eyes in anticipation of seeing nothing but bird feeders in the coming days, I'll post the second one now. You're welcome.

Oh c'mon. It was nice of him to turn and give us an up-close-and-personal viewing of his being. I know I'd never do that.




Oh and we can all see the obvious, can't we and we won't rag on the writer for it either, that the birds I seek to attract are, yep, yellow.

I did see a pair of purple finches the other day which of course aren't really all that purple.

Oh, look. I'm blathering. My job here, then, is done.

Do I need to clarify that the feeder is photographed with the maple behind? Nah, the delineation of the clear plastic on the right side should be good enough. So I won't type this in then.

Purple flowers

Erm... so there?

Don't you just hate how she's trying to ruin a perfectly good snit, and even before I have the chance to get properly worked up?

Yeah.

I'm off to take photos of more purple flowers now. They'll all be fuzzy because it's fairly windy outside today. Maybe next week's theme will be pointless abstract photos of fuzzy purple flowers or something, I don't know.




Yeah.

Don't you love purple flowers?

I know I do. In fact, I don't think there are enough types, species ... whatever ... of purple flowers.

As you can see from the title of this photograph, though, the bearded iris is on the way out. So shoot me for putting up a half-dead specimen. I liked the composition once I actually saw the photo on the screen.

Let this be a lesson to all; take the picture even if you're questioning why. You sometimes don't know whatcha got 'til it's up there in living colour. Or semi-living colour in this case.

And with that, I shall take my leave; reason one being I'm sure Big Yellow Taxi is now stuck in Alberta's head you're welcome Alberta! and, two, there's yet another electrical storm on its way into the area so the computer gets its third rest in two days.

If you build it, they will come

Well okay I didn't exactly build the feeder. I did get in the car, drive to the store, etc etc....

And here you see what I am actively seeking to have hang around in my yards this summer; and here you see one (actually two but one is on the other side of the feedbag) of the only critters that's caught on to that fact. The bird I mean, yes. I don't just mean to have the feeders hang around.

Now, I've since bought - yes I am just that wealthy - an "upside down finch feeder". Once you get by the question of whether the feeder is upside down or the birds in question are just odd, it's a nifty idea.

Finches - and I'm told nuthatches - stand on their heads to fill their stomachs. So, though knowing this is going to cause quite a stir and have you all in a dither, I have photos of that as well.

But you'll just have to wait for those. We start out small at times, you see.

hmWha?

It's not purple or yellow, ok? Geez.

----------

Ok, here's the deal. I'm really tired. I'm certainly not going to bother being coherent. And I think I deserve some kind of prize for doing twelve astronomy programs in one week.

Well, it will be twelve after tomorrow morning. After that I'm going to try really hard to not think about stars for a while.

The thing about planetarium programming is that it's more physical than you might think. Hauling the equipment. Setting up the equipment. Contorting yourself into weird positions so you can point out the stars without blocking anyone's view. Taking down the equipment. Catching your foot on the equipment and falling down in a heap while your coworker is unsure whether to laugh or get the first aid kit...

Um, yeah. Yesterday didn't work out so well. The toe's not broken, though. Just a pretty colour.

PURPLE.

I'd post a picture, but apparently there's too much purple on the blog...

Don't worry, the Toronto office knows I'm only snitting out of fun. Or at least she should know. If she doesn't, maybe I'll just work this up into a snit for real. I haven't had a good snit in a while.

Speaking of purple, it's amazing how many bruises one body can develop over the course of a few days. Little bruises, for the most part, and acting more like decoration than injury. I don't even know where half of them came from.

I guess maybe my job is getting a bit abusive.




My brain, on the other hand, is trying to fall asleep. Time to end the blather and get up from the desk for a minute or two. I don't really want to spend the night here, and that may just happen if the eyes start closing.

Just a quick thought...

I can't believe that the Toronto office missed the chance to inform the world that it is, in fact, Hugh Laurie's birthday today.

That's all.

Go back and read the other post now.

It's still mostly white

The object of the shot really is growing exactly as you see it here but makes for a very interesting hmmmm moment regardless of angle.

Go on. I can wait 'til you snag it and play with it on that programme for awhile.

No, really. Go on.



All right, then. You're back? Boy do you need a hobby.


The pups and I have this moment returned from the park where we watched all the busy workmen who are sinking materials which will turn into a natural gas pipeline (see, I could've said they were sinking pipe but you'd already be ahead of my original train of thought... um, like now, I suspect). I swear the dogs were like three-year-old little boys watching the big trucks.

And, sadly, the workmen cannot be bribed to loan me even one piece of machinery which would allow me to dig right through each and every soccer field, cricket pitch and the practice cages that make me apoplectic during the summer months because of the morons who leave food, glass bottles and the glint of plastic as far as the eye can see come the dawn of the next day.

The amount of cash I offered impressed even me. Clearly it's a private company and not a city-owned organization.

Not purple, not yellow

Not a lot of things, really. Not a toaster, either; nor a bar of soap.

As you can see my eye has caught the hues of the flowers along the way in the blog and yes, I am that rebellious to post something white. Of course at my age and stage, this is about as rebellious as it gets.

Do you know when I was younger, though, I'd have positively set you on your ear. Why, there was the time when ... oh, drat. The nuker just beeped at me to come get my very late dinner.

Another time, then.

Oh and yes the rebelliousness also leads to things with grey or purple stems and leaves as opposed to the every-day green things. My gosh, I am wild, aren't I.

Pointless photo of the day:

Yeah, that's it.

I warned you that there wouldn't be much time for blather this week.

And once again, the blather gets short shrift

I was going to say that the blog gets short shrift, but really it hasn't. I've been playing around with things in the background (and posting on the other blog) for a little while, and now I'm not in blather mode.

Just as well. I seem to be having one of those typing days where every second letter disappears into the ether. Or wherever letters that you could swear you contacted but never show up on screen go, that is.

So, one of the background things I was playing around with was to change my blog list to Blogger's new blog roll format. You'll see it over on the sidebar. If it's too annoying to see the latest post titles, let me know. I can change it.

As well, if you are one of my two fans, actually read this blog, and would like me to add you blog to the list, tell me. I don't mind giving extra publicity if I know you want it.

Anyway. I really don't have anything, so I don't think I'll force it today. Check the old blog if you want to see my lame doodle for Drawing Day (which was yesterday. A day late and a dollar short as usual), and remember that my appearances here in the next week might be a bit... non-appearance-y.

And notice how I didn't give any snotty hints to the Toronto office today. I'm good that way.

If I choose to be.

Pointless photos of the day:

Pretty, isn't it? It's a spider. On a piece of lath that's actually part of a trellis.

You probably got the spider part, but I thought I should explain the background.

I'm not sure what kind of spider this is. I usually have a bit of a guess, but I don't feel like poking around for clues today. It's Saturday, the music's playing, and I managed to catch up on some sleep last night (yay me) so for a change I don't feel like part of me (the brain part) is existing on a completely different planet. All of this means that I'm not going to go to the work of researching spiders today. It's a spider, and it's pretty. That's all we really need to know for the purposes of the blog.

Speaking of the purposes of the blog, it's sort of been lacking purpose at all lately, hasn't it? Sorry about that. I've had other things to do and a cold besides. I'd say I'll try to make up for it in the next while, but I'm afraid that next week isn't looking too good for that kind of promise. I'll be spending a fair amount of time out of the office in the days ahead, so blogging is likely to be pretty patchy.

Blogging from me, anyway. Blogging from the Toronto office can happen WHENEVER SHE WANTS IT TO (was that too subtle?), but as for Yours Blatheringly, I'll fit it in as I can.

No promises.

Ah well, to make up for the neglect, the photo department has decided to offer a pointless two-fer:

Pretty, isn't it? It's a poppy. An Iceland Poppy. I have somewhat of a thing for Iceland Poppies, weedy as they are. It's one of the first things I can remember my mother letting me plant, and I think it's great how they can be so colourful long before other things get going around here.

I wrote a rather sappy poem about them once. Let's see if I have it up on the other blog... Of course I do. One sappy poppy poem, coming up.

Well, I did warn you.

Gotta give me credit for the thought, at least.




Hey, this almost managed to turn into a post. Hurrah for me. I've got to go change laundry loads now, though, so I think I'll stop the blather right... here.

It's done, you know.



You can stop reading.







Really. Go away.

Pointless photo of the day:

I'm tired, it's been a long day, and I'm not especially in blather mode.

I'm in tired mode.

Did I mention the part where I'm tired?

Yeah.

Done now.

Pointless link of the day:

Here. No reason.

No reason for the pointless photo either, except that it's one of those. Apparently that's what we call them now.

And yes, I liked the diagonals. Again.

----------

My cold and I (I am starting to feel better, thanks for asking. Still a bit draggy, though) are planning to take the afternoon off. I have some built-up overtime that's pretty much burning a hole in my pocket, so I figure I may as well use it while I have the chance. Seems like a good excuse for pyjamas and silly British comedy on DVD, don't you think?

That's the idea, anyway.

I'd invite you over, but it'd sort of defeat the purpose. Oh, I should translate that. For me, pyjamas is more or less code for not going out and not going to be around other human beings. Pyjamas = antisocial afternoon = a good thing if you live in my brain.

And if you live in my brain... well, it would explain the voices. I'm afraid I'm going to have to start charging you rent, though. I don't really want a bunch of squatters in my head.

Er, yeah. I see things are headed down the road to Weirdness (yet again), so maybe I should just stop typing. See you tomorrow.

Pointless photo of the day:

I... don't really have anything today. I was feeling somewhat better until my morning group sapped what little energy I brought with me, but now I'm back to feeling stuffy and cranky.

It doesn't help that I did something stupid this morning that I'm currently beating myself up for. It also doesn't help that apparently Wheat's also (partly) to blame for the problem I caused.

Normally that would help (blaming Wheat, I mean), so I guess it's obvious that I'm not feeling all that great yet.

Ah well.

Since I have nothing (but whinge), I suppose I'll actually talk about the pointless photo for a change. It's a picture of Sticky Purple Geranium, also known as Cranesbill, and it's a wildflower even though it happens to be growing in my father's yard. This is sort of a weird little photo since the flash went off, but I decided I liked the shapes so you're getting it anyway.

The shapes are also why it's cropped in a square. I like diagonals within squares.

No reason.

Compositionally speaking they just make me happy, that's all.





Makes a person wonder why I'm not exactly happy now, come to think of it. Maybe I should go back and stare at the photo for a while.

You can too, if you like.

Pointless photo of the day:

For a fun game, see if you can guess why I took the photo.

For an even more fun game, don't look at the title of the photo.

If you're wondering about my definition of fun... well, just remember that I'm sick and I'm pretty much at the end of my brain for the day.

Yeah that.




I'm going away now.

Um, yeah

I suppose I should have mentioned that I'd be away from the computer for a couple of days?

Well, I'm back. Sort of. I'm dealing with a cold (thought I might have escaped the usual spring working-with-school-kids cold this year, but no such luck) and I've just spent far too long uploading and playing with the photos that have been building up on the camera.

Many of which you won't see unless you know where to find the work blog, by the way. And no guarantees that you'll see them even then. Just depends on my mood on Tuesday when I'm back at the office.

Anyway, I don't have a lot to say so I thought I'd give you a short pointless pictorial essay instead. Our first pointless photo features Max showing off his new trick of drinking out of the bird bath. And why has he decided to drink out of the bird bath? Well, that's what you have to do when your owner won't tie you up closer to the fish pond that you usually like to drink out of (I know, I know. But he likes the taste of fish water).

And why won't my father let Max near the fish pond? Not so much because of the fish, but because it gives him too much access to this:

Yep, the tree swallows are back in their favourite house this spring after a couple of years of involuntary hiatus. One year the chickadees decided to use the house instead (although to be fair they didn't really take over. I think the tree swallows just went elsewhere that year), and last year some persistent house sparrows made it impossible for the swallows to nest.

No such problem this time around. So far so good, apparently. In fact, we're already getting the next sure sign that the swallows are planning to hang around. And yes, I do have a picture.

Come on, you had to know that I'd have a picture. It'd hardly be a pictorial essay if I didn't have a picture, now, would it? Ok, so here's the picture we've all been talking about. Or at least I've been talking about.

By now no one even wants to see the picture, I'd imagine.

Well, too bad. Here it is:

Erm... that would be swallow porn, yes. I have another shot, but it looks a bit too much like a bizarre mutant three-winged bird.

Use your own imagination there, I guess.

And hey, it makes a change from the ladybird porn you usually get on this blog.




I... wonder if maybe I shouldn't rethink the direction that the pointless photography occasionally takes here?

Nah. It's all good clean fun.







Ah, leave me alone. I'm sick, remember? And you can take that as literally as you choose to.